I certainly wasn't born loving the movie. My father and brothers had talked about it for a long time, but I refused to watch it; my dad had already told me about how Braveheart died, yelling, "FREEEEEEEDOMMMMM!" I was like, okay. That's nice.
But one particularly boring day, I was flipping through channels, and something caught my eye. It was a scene from the beginning of Braveheart, and I quickly changed the channel. And flipped back. And changed.
And then back--and by the end of the movie, my pillow was positively soggy with tears (my younger brother was chuckling in the corner at my weepy response, but no matter).
I was hooked.
Maybe you've seen it, and maybe you haven't.
This may sound unbelievably cheesy, but I am incredibly moved, every time, by the fight and courage shown in the film. Many times have I looked at myself, or at a situation in my life, and said, just give up. Nobody cares. It doesn't matter anymore.
Belief in beauty, hope in life-- it takes courage. It takes strength to hold onto faith, especially when people try to discourage you, and tell you that you're wrong. I believe that cynicism is often the cover for cowardice, and a façade for those who have given up fighting.
I don't ever want to be like that.
I don't ever want to give up, lose faith, give in to disappointment and cynicism and anger and broken dreams. I want to fight. Even if it hurts, even if it costs me dearly. And when I'm tempted to give up on the values and truths I hold most dear, I think about the courage shown by those who have come before me, who faced much more difficult situations in life. People who held on, despite all costs, and who triumphed through courage and hope. That's how I want to be. That's how I choose to live.
This is the inspirational moment of the day, live from the Cambridge Cheesiness Corner.
But I mean every word.
Alba gu bra (Scotland forever), and
Cheerio.
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