365 Reasons I Love Costa Rica
Reason #298: Sometimes There Just Aren’t Enough Rocks
Was flipping through channels yesterday and there on number 347, or something, was Forrest Gump, one of my favorite movies of all time. I have probably seen it a dozen times, but each time there are certain scenes that really “get me.” I guess I identify with Forrest in some ways, feeling like a sort of “detached observer” at times, but nevertheless finding myself unwittingly in the middle of awkward and difficult situations. Gump handled those with an amazing degree of dexterity despite his surface level deficiency in the smarts department. I would say that he handled life with a startling degree of what one might call, “Gump”-tion. He was also able to come up with some pretty good one-liners, usually attributed to “momma.” I guess mommas are the source of a lot of our inherited wisdom. I really like the scene where his beloved Jenny has returned, after many years of destructive wandering, to Greenbow, Alabama and has reunited with her best friend. They are walking along a dirt road when they stumble upon Jenny’s childhood home, a home of some pretty bad memories for her. Jenny begins to throw rocks at the abandoned and broken-down old house. When she exhausts the supply readily available she collapses and is consoled by Forrest, who in his movie narrator dual role states that “sometimes, I guess, there just aren’t enough rocks.” That quote always seemed to convey profound meaning and I would find myself shaking my head in agreement, muttering in my mind, “you know, Forrest, you are right, sometimes there really aren’t enough rocks.” But if you asked me point-blank what exactly Forrest meant by the statement, I would likely be hard-pressed to give a concise and cogent answer. So in this post, I thought I would try, at least from the standpoint of attempting to understand why that particular Gump zinger was so meaningful to me. I think it is because we all (or most of us) harbor memories in life that aren’t so great. These can turn into resentments. If you hold those inside, as Jenny had apparently done, there really may not be enough “rocks” to throw in the attempt to release those inner feelings of rage. I know. I have a few myself. Sometimes the thought of all that coming to the surface scares the hell out of me. Green-tinted visions of “Hulk”-ish rage come to mind. So best just to keep them buried down deep inside. But is that really healthy? I believe for Jenny her road to destruction ended there with those rocks. She’d been throwing rocks, in one way or another, all her adult life and I guess they just ran out. So the throwing ended with the realization that living her life in reaction to the past, subconsciously or consciously, is a dead-end street. How about you? Still searching for rocks to throw? Getting near the bottom of the pile? Take a clue from Forrest Gump, drop those two there in your hand you might be thinking of hurling just now, make peace with your past and move on.
Here’s the Clip from the Immortal Forrest Gump
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I’m so glad I stumbled on this blogsite… Thank you for explaining your perspective on the meaning of this line, as I have often pondered over the depth of it myself. It’s one of my favorite lines in the movie, and one I can relate to myself. I’ve watched Forrest Gump many times, and like you, there’s always something new I pick up that I didn’t notice before. There are multi-levels of dynamics that make you cry one minute and laugh your head off the next, but very deep at the same time! =)