What The Giver Gave Me

     Tonight, I saw The Giver. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I have never read the book, but lately people have been talking about the book and movie constantly, so I decided to go see it with a friend. It turned out to be one of the most intriguing, thought-provoking, best movies I have ever seen. When I expressed this to my mom, she replied, “It’s about controlling people’s emotions, right?” In short, yes, but it is about so much more. That statement only scratches the surface of the complex and rich story, and I think there are many valuable life lessons to be gleaned from this movie.

     My lesson-learning actually started earlier today, way before I even started thinking of going to the movie tonight. At some point today, I realized I was just in a really really good mood. I didn’t know why. Nothing particularly earth-shattering had happened, but I was happy, joyful even. I saw a side of myself that I haven’t seen in a while. When I thought about why I was so happy, I realized the answer was quite simple. For the past several weeks, I have been feeling really crappy. I’ve had my happy moments, but for the most part, I have felt down and heartbroken. When you feel this awful for a long period of time and then have a day where you feel even a little better, it feels marvelous. You appreciate your good mood more than usual. You may not actually feel happier than any normal day, but after a down-period, a happy day can make you feel like you’re having the best day of your life.

     This is one of the important things that The Giver helps us to remember. In the movie, society has erased the memories of every person except for one because they believe that this is a better way of living. The elders believe that not having emotions, colors, religion, or any type of differences will prevent conflict and everyone will be happy in this “utopian” society. However, what this movie brings to light is how awful a world like that would truly be…what a shame it would be. One boy, the receiver of memories, and his mentor, the giver of memories, make it their goal to return all of these memories to society because what they realized, and what I realized as I watched the movie, is that there is beauty in every single aspect of life. There is beauty in our differences. There is beauty in our emotions. There is even beauty in our pain.

     What this society had tried to keep its citizens from was the pains of life—of war, heartache, loss, brokenness. This meant that it also kept them from experiencing love, joy, and beauty. However, what the giver and receiver (and I) realized is that it is worth experiencing the pains in life in order to have the beauty. It is not possible to have the joys without the heartaches, but it is worth it. It is worth the pain to be able to experience the joy, the love, and the beauty. That is what I had started to realize earlier today. If I hadn’t had my heart broken, I wouldn’t have been able to experience the elation I felt today from simply feeling better. If we want to experience good in our lives, we must also accept the painful things because then we understand what true joy feels like. Life is meant to be experienced to the fullest, and in order to do that, we must take the good with the bad, the ugly with the beautiful, the pain with the joy. After all, that’s what life is all about, right? It’s not just about living but actually feeling and experiencing all that the world has to offer.

To Blame or Not to Blame

     I learned an important lesson today. Well, not really learned. Solidified, I guess. And this important lesson is that it’s not always my fault. Yes, I know this sounds like a simple one; everyone makes mistakes. Yet for me, accepting this past a mere mental knowledge is much easier said than done. You see, I like to internalize things. I normally take the fault in relationships and just assume that I did something incorrect. But I realized tonight that this is not a healthy way of living or maintaining relationships.

     I was texting a friend and having a hard time understanding why she was acting the way that she was. She had canceled on me twice in the past two days with what I considered to be lame excuses both times. I quickly asked my mother what the correct thing to do was when you wanted to fix something with someone but you had absolutely no idea what the problem was to which, of course, she replied, “You ask them.” So, I promptly texted my friend back and asked her what was the problem. She quickly cleared my confusion over one of the problems. It was merely a matter of miscommunication.
     But this made me think about other incidents we  had had in the past. We have never had any major fights, but there have been times when she has done things that have just baffled me. And somehow, when I make up my mind to be more confrontational and confront her about it, I always end up feeling like it’s my faut. I usually come up with excuses like, “Maybe I shouldn’t have made such a big deal about that...” or “Maybe I should have just let that one slide...” So I did what I normally do when confused about life and such: I consulted my mom. I told her my predicament and ended my ranting with the slightly melodramatic, “If I can’t even manage my friendships, how in the world am I ever supposed to manage a relationship?!”
     “It’s not a matter of ‘managing your friendships,’” she said. “It’s a matter of correctly communicating how you feel.” Of course. All adults contribute problems in any relationships to miscommunication. But the more she talked, the more I saw where she was coming from. “I don’t think she [your friend] knows how to communicate sometimes. If she would have simply told you why she didn’t want to hang out instead of making excuses, you may have not gotten your feelings hurt.”
     I stopped to think about what she said for a minute. When I think back to the other times we’ve had these tiffs, it seems like it was always a problem of miscommunication. No, not always on her part—sometimes on mine, too. But examining the current situation, I don’t think the miscommunication was on my part this time—it was on hers. Which actually made me feel better. I cannot possibly believe that all problems are my fault and always feel like I’m the one who needs to apologize. It’s foolish to never admit when you’re wrong, but it’s also foolish to believe that you’re always the one at fault.
     Especially as I reach adulthood and the point where I will hopefully soon (probably not, though...) begin looking for a husband, I realize how important it is to learn good communication skills (gasp, I said it!) I am an extremely nonconfrontational person who DOES NOT like to talk about her feelings, so it is very difficult for me even to say something simple like, “Hey, you hurt my feelings.” But alas, these are important lessons that I need to learn, and I think this is a good place to start. Because while being able to admit that you’re wrong is a sign of maturity, so is being able to free yourself of blame. And that, my friends, is a liberating feeling.