Alice in Wonderland

Recently I had a conversation with a high school student about the movie Alice in Wonderland. We shared a moment discussing the merits of the casting and the plot and how we both highly recommend the film to others. I suggested he might be interested in reading a blog post I wrote after seeing the movie.

Here’s where the conversation got interesting. For me, at least.

He said, “Oh, so you’re a writer?!”

“Ummm. Yeah, I guess you could say that.” I responded with some obvious hesitation.

I froze. How to respond? A writer? Me? Aren’t writers people like Orson Scott Card or Debra Monroe? But me? Not so much. I only write because I have to get these thoughts inside my head outside or all the words and thoughts and ideas tripping and bumping into each other in their frenzy to get to the page keep me awake when I know – I know I should really be asleep.

I decided to reread my own blog post. The very one I recommended to him. In it, I challenged myself to explore my muchness – my personal reservoir of unlimited potential. It occurs to me that I wasn’t following my own advice. In my very hesitation I limited an opportunity to grow myself because of my denial to accept I can be whatever I choose.

Do not let the things that matter most be at the mercy of the things that matter least. Do not squander your time.

While this thought is not an Arminda original – it is one of my life mottos because each of us only has so much time to be and to create the story we want to live.

Yes. I am a writer. And I’m writing my own story because I can.

I couldn’t help but notice all the eyes staring out at me from the big screen last night while watching Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland. I’m sure the costumes were spectacular and the set designs impressive, but those eyes. They directed the action, the dialogue, the mannerisms, the message.

Leonardo da Vinci said “The eye sees a thing more clearly in dreams than the imagination awake.” What is the purpose of our eyes if not to see the world around us? Or the purpose of a dream if not to clarify in sleep what our imaginations so clumsily paint while awake?

During this second visit to Wonderland, Alice sincerely believes she is dreaming and so keeps pinching herself to wake up – only to discover that not only is she not dreaming, but she also hasn’t been seeing things for what they really are, most of all – herself.

Johnny Depp’s magnificent Mad Hatter frankly tells Alice, “You used to be much more…’muchier.’ You’ve lost your muchness.” Ultimately, Alice – like each of us – must choose to either embrace the muchness others see in her (and that is difficult at times to see in ourselves), or to walk away satisfied with the status quo.

Alice Kingsley: This is impossible.
The Mad Hatter: Only if you believe it is.

Alice Kingsley: Sometimes I believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast.
The Mad Hatter: That is an excellent practice.

To Alice’s credit – she looks for her muchness and in the process sees herself in ways most of us never even imagine, let alone dream. And then with eyes wide open, but looking inward, she chooses: much.

How often do we limit personal growth because we fail to open our eyes and see the endless possibilities available to us?

I wonder. . . how much muchier can I become? I think I need a good night’s sleep to elucidate my potential.

Story

Muchness