Perspective. It’s all about perspective. How often have you found yourself in the woods wandering around in circles looking for a cache you know shouldn’t really be this hard to find? Technically, you know its right in front of you—all the data says so. Practically, you just can’t find it. It’s not there. You walk back and forth, up and down. You approach from one angle, and then another, and another. You search high and low and come up with—nothing. It’s time, and experiences like this that remind me I need to change my perspective—which is usually when I start finding what’s been right under my nose the whole time.

 

It’s December—a good time of year to examine one’s perspective. 2009 has brought us all a year filled with unexpected blessings as well as unexpected losses. This year my perspective came from the unexpected source of a delightful G-rated movie called Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium. Along with a strong recommendation for everyone young and old alike to watch this movie, here are a few perspective-inducing nuggets from the movie for my fellow geocachers. It is my gift to you with best wishes for a Merry Christmas and, as always, the perspective to enjoy your journey.

 

Eric Applebaum, the Hat Collector: My hat's stuck.
Molly Mahoney: Ha... looks like you're gonna need a ladder.
Eric Applebaum, the Hat Collector: Naah. I just need to jump higher.
Molly Mahoney: Eric... that's seven feet, at least.
Eric Applebaum, the Hat Collector: Seven feet? Really?
Molly Mahoney: At least.
Eric Applebaum, the Hat Collector: You think I should get a running start?

 

Eric Applebaum, the Hat Collector: What Mahoney needed was the opportunity to prove to herself that she was something more than she believed.

 

Mr. Edward Magorium: When King Lear dies in Act V, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He's written "He dies." That's all, nothing more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is "He dies." It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with "He dies." And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know it's only natural to be sad, but not because of the words "He dies." but because of the life we saw prior to the words….I've lived all five of my acts, Mahoney, and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go. I'm only asking that you turn the page, continue reading... and let the next story begin. And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest "He died."…Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.

Originally Published December, 2009.