This post is about the movie Avatar: The Way of Water. Directed by James Cameron. Starring Sam Worthington and Zoe Saldaña. You can watch the film here on Amazon Prime Video.
Nothing is Lost
It’s like a dream, the simplest things in living. In its midst you are left wondering the fortune you have been given, and at a moment’s notice, why it has been taken away. Like stones in your heart, you must live to fight another day; a protection for your people, a protection for your family. The settling for a sanctuary, in passage, comes to feel like the life you have always known. What you ran from runs back to you, and there is a pain to be known amid the midtide of trial and travail, treading and becoming. In the embrace of the aftermath, you take heart in discovering…
This is your home. This is where you make your stand.
Prefer to listen? Hear my reading of the reflection aloud.
Happiness is Simple
There is a solemn reverie in falling for the beauty you long to touch, one that dares the heart to follow. An opening to life, in which you create and receive, and they, too, get to play and believe. What you show them is what they know, and you long to capture forever what must always grow. Moments of your own you cherish; dreams you hold with open eyes.
In seeing you breakaway, a new star in the night, and heartbeats skip as nightmare falls from the sky. What had been sent away, comes fast returning. A coming of destruction, a nature burning. A grieving to be had, for the life that once was. A mourning to be had, for what you must give.
I Thought We Lost Them
Vengeance brings death, as much as it fights to live. You do what you know, raising an insurgence against it, to preserve what they seek for their own horrid gain. In the distance they should call, that fails to stand place. You race to their side, bruises and scratches, you’ll take. Without thinking is how they think, not knowing what it means to hurt. In the bleeding there is a teaching, and you are there to make sure, that’s how far it goes.
How much of our parents do you long to be? How much of our parents do we dare not to be? There is much of that you can help, as you venture paths away from home. As you see what lingers near, and you approach by ways of your own. A daring pursuit, in search of answers, and often what you find, is a sight unthinkable.
In a heartbeat it comes, running back to you. Darkness passes over, the rain makes due. A calling they know, then the calling card they see. Shots taken, then far more too close in retreat. A thanks to be had but at the loss for some. They took him. They took him. He’s going to be okay. He thinks he’s one of them, in that, you are going to be okay.
Your New Home
It’s about your family, your home. More than anything, the little ones. A question to not be asked, but a decision that must be made. Hunted you have been made to be, a target you have become. Children at the knife’s edge, a people who will die, a promise you swore to protect — what more is there to understand? No plan, but there lives the one thing you know to do. It pains you, it aches, but you must go on, and in so, grieving, of what must be done. A dying to self, a good for the people. One life ends, another begins. A fortress to be had in family.
A world unto itself, they know not why you are here. You see them, they see you. You seek a sanctuary, a living among strangers. It has been asked. You are done with what you’ve known. This you are given, their ways you must learn; you bring the best of you. You make a home of it, you have to; hold your breath, sea the beauty. To your awe, waters you could have known to be. Make of it what you can, there is amusement in trying. Dive head first, with hands laid bare, and in this you learn to breath.
He’s My Friend
What has no beginning and no end? What has always surrounded us and remains within? From before our birth to after our death, to which our heart beat wombs in eternity. For he knows of the shadows of the deep, and the breath that brings all living things. A giving and a taking. A connection to all — death to life, darkness to light. A telling of makings far greater than the depths of the sea.
To be lost and amazed in what they do not understand. Unbothered yet heartedly burdensome. Although a gift to be had, it is a call that feels alone. How long must you aim to express the makings of you? All they make you do is question who you are. Call it a miracle, or more of a faith, you are not alone. Be changed and transformed, he sees all of you.
See it not as they do. Hear it not as they do. A sensing you know so close, like a word about to be spoken. So much there is to mourn, but an ache as this one brings the greatest cry of. They may not know in full but they sense as you do, share of it what you know. Many know not what you understand, but there is an understanding we all know to be true. The world can not make sense, of what is not of its own kind.
I Know What I Know
The venture of the wicked, an unyielding force can it be; greed, desire, and hatred, the pairings that make well to undo goodness. Breeding of oppression and collapse, threats and objections, a burning to good things. What they are doing here is wrong — what is to be done to this demon?
Do we subject ourselves to the forces of evil, when doing what it takes to defeat what came first? One can come to believe that one evil, when matched, no matter how justified, only brings more evil. A way forbidden. What is to be said of those left with no choice and know no better? The ones who bare a single marker of grave wrong, by the ways of many, must they pay for it the rest of their life?
To know what is wrong and never want to do it again is an earnest start, although, is it enough? In many ways we know no order at all. A seeing unclear according to delusions of our own. There are those that do see, and see clearly they do.
More Emotional. More Spiritual.
Man holds fast to the satisfaction of his aims and greed, to do what lies beyond his own control. A display of death where power drifts. With a rallying cry against it, there comes a call to silence, a plea to save lives — even those cast aside. Rope the risk. All forces go. For the children adrift. Up from the water, straight to the crews, to their own falter, restoring a peace long overdue.
As the battle wanes toward its end, the final shots fall — tragic and true. The loud cry and mourning seem not to end, but a listening must be had to something new. A strong heart, a strong heart, for ones whose beat must carry on. A giving of exactly what they came here for. Blasted, on fire, a terror awaits. Strike after strike, a wary of fates. A coming together for all you have done. A cut for a cut. A son for a son.
In the end, do you make it? In the end, where is it that you belong? The not knowing of the two is our greatest weakness, and our greatest strength. To every song there is a last beat. To its progression, what gives it meaning? From the earth we came, and to the earth we return. And if we too hold them in our hearts, are they really lost? From it, you are something more now. As there resides the blissful stillness in what was, ever more is the assured awakening in knowing, where you now stand.
To The Believer
“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me…”
Psalm 139:7-10
Credit: Script and select images used in this post are from Avatar Way of Water (© 20th Century Studios). Included for reflective commentary and thematic analysis.
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This post was all about the movie Avatar Way Of Water.
