Life on the Island

I watched just a little of King Kong today before church, the new one with Naomi Watts. It was funny how the surprises themselves became predictable--I knew that once a character thought he was safe, an even bigger menace was on its way into the frame behind him. As far as I could tell, the premise was that everything on the island was huge and dangerous. The displaced humans had to find a way back to safety. Simple enough.

I thought about how life sometimes seems like that island, with everything giant and threatening, a new monster everywhere you turn. It feels like there's no safety, no escape. I had a recent spate of badly timed bad luck and bad news that was like that (see the entry, "A Sledgehammer and a Sidewalk")--I'd get over one wretched thing, and another would arrive. I even started expecting it. Eventually I gave up in a sense, decided none of it was my fault and I was ready for something else awful to happen. In the movie, after a big fight with a growing number of Tyrannosauri, Kong walks away, but Naomi Watts calls to him. He picks her up, as if to hurt her, but then he puts her on his shoulder and keeps walking. That's what it felt like--being slapped around, passed from T-Rex to giant gorilla, and then lifted to safety by a gentle hand once I stopped fighting.