Okay, are you sure?
Is what the universe seems to ask me anytime I make a decision. It usually goes something like this: an opportunity arises to do something. I get the familiar rush of recognition that this is the thing to do. Over the years, I’ve come to rely on my ability to recognize that feeling when it comes; it’s like suddenly catching a whiff of fresh air after being indoors for a long time, or like flying a plane through clouds, unable to see anything but gray until a sliver of blue sky appears. Suddenly, I have a direction, a way forward.
Okay I think, challenge accepted.
Okay the universe seems to reply, as it immediately throws an obstacle in my way. Are you sure?
An example. This past weekend, I was visiting two dear friends of mine in Denver, and after a long day, we were looking for a movie to watch as we unwound for the evening. I saw that the first Dune movie, the new one, was available on Netflix, and to my surprise found out neither my friend Henry nor his girlfriend Rachel had seen it. I insisted, quite truthfully, that I wouldn’t mind watching it again, so we put it on.
To make it short, they loved it. They loved it just as much as I do, which means they really loved it. (Dune is on a very short list of films I consider a masterpiece.) During an intermission, we mentioned how excited we were to see the sequel as soon as it came out. It won’t be out for a while, I said. This fall, I think. Rachel looked it up on her phone. Guys. She said, looking up at us, stunned. It comes out tomorrow.
It was a synchronicity among synchronicities. Of all the movies we could have picked, on all the nights, we chose Dune unwittingly the night before the sequel came out. None of us had a clue. Given our newly shared passion for the first one, our plans for the next day suddenly became clear: we were going to see the new Dune movie. It was a no-brainer, for we all agreed such a coincidence could not be taken lightly. So we looked up showtimes. Turns out, it was only being shown at one theater, and only on IMAX. The theater was far away. There were only a handful of tickets left, and they were on the first two rows, tucked away in the corner.
Now this was a pickle. If you haven’t been to an IMAX theater before, it’s basically the opposite of any other kind of show in that the first two rows are absolutely the worst seats in the house. You’re so close you physically can’t focus on the whole screen at once and the neck cramps are the stuff of legend. Such inopportune seats threw a real question mark on our quest.
So there we were. A movie we were all desperately excited to see. An opportunity to see it. The only catch was that the seats would be, frankly, garbage. It was a moment of reckoning. The seats were going fast, they were not cheap, and in a few minutes even the second row would be gone. We all looked at each other and asked, how bad do we want to see this?
The thing is, to me, when you receive a signal that is so clear and loud that you can’t ignore it, it’s your duty to see it through. And that’s exactly what I told Henry and Rachel: we can’t simply walk away from this opportunity. We have nothing better planned for tomorrow. We all know we want to see this movie. Yes, the tickets are not perfect, but nothing ever is.
And that’s how it goes. You go to reach for that low-hanging fruit, and it moves a little higher. Are you going to jump for it, or give up? That’s what the universe wants to know.
So what did we do? We pushed aside our doubt, got those tickets and 24 hours later we enjoyed the sh*t out of that movie from those crummy 2nd row seats. I don’t know if these little last-minute tests happen for everyone, it might be just me. I think my view of the universe is probably more, shall we say, interactive than most. I think it gives us these little tests to teach us that nothing worth having comes easily. That’s what I believe, but here’s what I know: that movie was everything we wanted it to be. We made the right choice. In the end, the pain in our necks was worth the satisfaction in our hearts. It always is.