Listen to the article instead of reading. If you dare.
This past Monday I woke up with a full day planned.
I had a Pathless Path writing hour at 10, a Cansisfis Foote feedback gym at 12, a Foster cohort course at 1, some business development for my coach at 245, a financial meeting with Frum Finance at 4, and another Foster meeting at 430.
As soon as my feet hit the ground next to my bed, I knew I couldn’t go through with my day. Sometimes I feel like that. Days where I plan on being ultra-productive somehow end up being days I sleep in (no one has to know that I sleep in every day anyway).
I thought I would be a proud member of society, but really I’m the same stoner I was in Bushwick without the smoking bowl and Indian takeout.
That Monday morning I drove to my office, chain-smoking American Spirits, eating an almond butter-and-egg-rice-cake-sandwich, and trying to place what the feeling was going on. But I couldn’t shake it. I pulled into a parking spot, sandwiched between two huge Life Ride Ambulances, and continued smoking while listening to music. I hopped on LinkedIn, doom-scrolled for a bit, and sent a few messages. I couldn’t get out of my car.
I was 50 feet from my office but couldn’t bring myself in.
As I shivered in the cold with my car door open, a giant movie screen unfurled in my mind.
I hadn’t been to a movie theater in 8 years. I’m the same guy who has a film reel tattoo winding around my bicep, and yet, I haven’t seen anything on silver celluloid in 8 years. My spiritual mentor, a rabbi who lives across the street, and my wife have told me it’s better not to give in to my temptation.
Theaters are dark remnants of the terrible horrors that come from watching movies. They are dark recesses of a place that can’t offer anything holy, good, or worthwhile.
But they are also where I first learned how far my imagination could go.
The movie theater is a place that has sticky floors and high prices. It’s a weird cave that makes me giddy when I settle in the bucket chairs. Most people don’t give a damn about theaters. According to all the news about movie theaters closing down, most people don’t care about the experience anymore.
With a flick of the butt and the thought of living on the edge, I slammed my car door. AMC, here I come.
When I made the decision to go, it didn’t feel like a bad decision. It didn’t feel like I was making the wrong decision.
Sometimes, I like making a decision because I can. Because I’m a grown man.
I can make a decision to do something, anything, and as long as I’m not hurting anyone, back on off me, man, I’m feelin’ tonight, ah, ah, ah, ah I’m stayin’ alive. And there’s nothing that can stop me. Not you. Not G-d.
So watch out.
I’ll skip over the details of the movie I saw (American Fiction, I’ll give it 7 stars), but the whole point is that I finally felt something I hadn’t felt in years. I felt that comfortable sense of familiarity settle into my stomach and heart when I sat in the chair.
By the way, these ain’t your classic movie theater seats anymore. This AMC had a recliner with a push of a button that had its legs come up and back go back. It was 1000x more comfortable than watching movies at home. (Shh..don’t tell anyone in my neighborhood, I have a reputation to uphold.)
After the credits rolled and I shielded my eyes from being in the darkness for 2 hours, I felt a sense of aliveness and of being true to myself. I had been thinking of going to the movies for the past 2,922 days. I grew up in the theater. The first time I was allowed to go anywhere without parental supervision was the movie theater. (Fun fact, when I was a kid I had to use a payphone to call my parents to pick me up. I swear I’m not that old.)
Were those 2,922 days of daydreaming worth it?
You can bet your buttered popcorn butt it was.
I finally scratched the itch that had been nestled between the shoulder blades of my subconscious. The thought of curling up in the dark with loud surround sound, movie trailers, and a 50-foot screen was worth every cent of the $11 it was for a matinee.
As I walked to my car though, a sliver of guilt slid its slimy head into my psyche.
Did I do the wrong thing?
What was my wife going to think?
Was G-d, or the Lubavitcher Rebbe, going to be disappointed in me?
Chassidus, or Jewish Mysticism, talks about how we have two souls inside of us. We have a Nefesh HaBehamis and a Nefesh HaElokis. The Nefesh HaBehamis is our animal soul. The Nefesh HaElokis is our G-dly soul.
Was my excitement just my animal soul feeling right at home? Like a dog who curls up in its flea-infested cage?
Or was it my G-dly soul feeling more connected to its source? It can’t be that G-d gave me such a connection to film and theaters that’s all bad.
I can’t tell the difference though.
If I ask my mentor, he’ll probably say I shouldn’t have gone.
I don’t think I’ll ask him.
What will my wife think? She’s a little more straight-edge than me, so I’m sure she’ll be a little disappointed.
Will I keep this secret from her? Another fun fact, I can’t keep any secrets from her. I’ve tried and I literally scream them out as soon as I see her. Don’t tell me anything you don’t want her to know too.
Now that the itch had been itched, my animal soul reared his head to ask the obvious question. “Will I go again?”
Will I continue on the path of self-destruction of attaching myself to idols who pretend to be real people pretending to be fake people in a movie about making movies?
Will I join Alamo Drafthouse and start going weekly to special midnight screenings of Gremlins or The Rocky Horror Picture Show?*
Will I give in to my other temptations? The ones that are a little bit more risque than just going to the movie theater?
I guess you’ll have to wait until Summer 2024 when all the blockbusters come out.
I wouldn’t want to spoil the ending.
Cover Photo by Josh Eckstein on Unsplash
The Pathless Path community is where I hang out with other people who are interested in living a life more fulfilled. Thanks to
for making it. Check it out.Foster is a place for writers to dedicate themselves to their writing. There are so many great people there who want to help you succeed. Check it out.
, , and, can point you in the right direction.- is a wild wookie on the loose. He runs a great feedback gym that you can join. His writing is also reminiscent of Hunter S. Thompson on LSD.
Frum.Finance is a place for Jewish people to learn about finances. If that’s you, give them a shout to help you budget and learn some financial literacy.
I use Descript for editing my audio.
I use The Yeti Blue mic to record my voiceover. (There’s probably a newer one you can buy. Plus, that actual blue one looks really cool.)
...oh brother i felt this one...as a movie nerd who was practically born in a theater it would pain me to never go again (though I only went a handful of times last year)...was daydreaming the other day about what a content free existence might feel like...no input, only output...seemed odd though to be a maker of things for others and not let anyone make anything for me...i wonder what summer blockbuster you will or willnot see...
Dude! Very courageous of you to share this. Many of us are in this delicate balancing act, and hope you can continue to honor the ways in which you remain true to yourself on your path. Shkoyech!