February 28, 2011
Duet, ME Newsletter, Vol. 4, Issue 9
A mildly famous fellow named Justin Currie posted a clip of the music box doll scene from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, with the following notation: “I love this part where the actor and actress sang a duet in front of their unlikely audience. It's romantic in the sense that both are deeply in love with each other but somehow faintly deny their feelings.”
That couldn’t be and farther from my long-held interpretation. Growing up, I repeatedly found it to be one of the most stressful parts of the movie. I could all too well feel the stress of having to play a charade in front of people who despise that which you love – in this case, the children, of course. To be in the throes of a mission, just to find time must be wasted playing out the charade-istic method used to position themselves as saviors was breathtakingly horrifying to me.
The impending danger to the rescuers made me unbearably tense. Throughout the years, I completely missed the real duet, the way the words counteracted each other, how each felt restricted in their own way, yet one chose to give an account of their restriction and one chose to give an account of their longing. The problems are the same, but the focus, the way each approached the issue – was at odds. So, in the melody of the moment, the common goal close at hand, the characters find a way to let each other know: “I think there’s something more to this.”
I think there’s something more to this:
Our perspective controls our output. Our mindset controls our wellbeing. Our receptivity controls the informational flow. If we’re feeling uninformed, perhaps it’s because we refuse to take in what is not clearly in our forward sight. We miss those alongside us, the parallel riders whose visions are shifted based on the rut they occupy. Even on the same road perspectives differ slightly, dependent on the fraction of space between us. It is physically and mathematically impossible for two people to see an exact visionary duplicate. Similarities are what we must learn to identify with.
Just because we’re talking over each other, doesn’t mean we are not in accord.
Sometimes we are saying the same thing, just in a different way.
And, not so surprisingly, that’s exactly what it takes to make beautiful music.
Posted by jaselin at February 28, 2011 08:03 PM