last night we watched '127 hours' about the true story of rock climber/canyoneer aron ralston who amputates his own arm when it becomes pinned by a boulder against a canyon wall in an accident. although there were a few scenes that were excruciating to watch, the overall theme of the film was about survival and aron's will to survive. thoughts of his family and delirious premonitions about playing with his future son pulled him through his ordeal.
after the movie, i couldn't help thinking about how far i'd go to survive. would i be able to drink my own.. fluids (to put it nicely)? make my own tourniquet? stab myself with a dull knife? break my own bones? cut off my entire arm, through skin and nerves and muscle? and then rappel down a wall and look for help, still 8 miles from my car?
it's hard to say. i say this because it seems that when we're faced with life or death situations, the fight in us is exposed in its most raw form, gritty and material. it reminds us of what matters most and how we should have done things differently, like a broken record of regrets played right in front of our eyes. the if onlys are numerous. only then, in the deepest and darkest of shadows, do we cling to hope and light.. light from those we care about most, like rays of sunshine that touch us and hold us and somehow, guide us through.
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