No matter what the tale, almost every great movie has that moment of retribution at the end of the film. It’s always my favorite part of the story; the hard-working succeed, the oppressed rise up, the beaten-down get revenge. But what I was reminded of on our trip down to Memphis, is that while I deeply crave those stories of inhuman strength of will, for every one of those tales there are millions of captured lives. People, tortured, abused, and killed without ever having an inkling of reckoning against their offenders.
There are times when I sit as a victim of my own story. I see certain situations and difficult relationships as out of my control. I seem to completely forget that I actually have freedom. Freedom that countless others don’t have. Very often, the only thing stopping me from being set free from the things and people that have a hold over me is my own fear.
Do I have the courage to exercise my freedom?
I’ve watched so many final scenes when the villain gets dramatically conquered. I don’t think it occurred to me that, in my own life (my real life), I don’t have to abolish anyone. For the longest time I believed that if I didn’t have the strength to fully overthrow someone, I might as well not even try to stand up to them. But now I understand that I don’t have to conquer the bullies in my life, I only need enough strength to make certain the bullies don’t conquer me.