It's a Wonderful Life

listening for the bells

from It’s a Wondeful Life

Years ago, watching Schindler's List, I, like most, was devastated watching the horrific story unfold. I knew a great deal about the Holocaust, so much of that story was not new to me. But something distinctive I did take away from the movie that I consider often was the main character Oskar’s grief over the fact that even though he helped save many lives, he passed up opportunities to save more people.

That message has never left me. I think of it often when I understand that I could have done better with some events in my life. Who hasn't felt that disappointment in themselves? 

It's the human condition, not something to beat ourselves up over, but just a reminder to strive to do more, to do better, to make a difference. 

On that note, I'm ending this year with one of my favorite holiday traditions, watching It's a Wonderful Life starring Jimmy Stewart, which came out in 1946.

There are not many of Jimmy Stewart's movies I haven't enjoyed. I'm a big fan. Many of them I've watched year in and year out with the enthusiasm of a first-time viewer. 

Among my front-runners are The Shop around the Corner 1940, The Philadelphia Story 1940, and The Glenn Miller Story 1954. And being a huge Alfred Hitchcock fan, I loved Vertigo 1958, The Man Who Knew Too Much 1956, and my fave Rear Window 1954. Grace Kelly and James Stewart, what a love affair the camera had with those two in a movie about a camera.

But by far, my number one Jimmy Stewart film is It's a Wonderful Life. The movie has become part of my Christmas tradition. Without fail, I set time aside in the few weeks before Christmas Day to enjoy this thought-provoking film.

In the story's premise, we can change the world with our acts of kindness. To my way of thinking, it's a reality.

Unlike George Bailey, who benefits from his assigned angel Clarence's assistance, we cannot measure our influence in the world. We must rely on faith to believe we make a difference.

If we had an angel constantly ringing a bell to confirm that our efforts are essential and life-changing, we'd likely make it our life's goal to do as many kind deeds as possible. 

But here's a thought I've been playing with, the universe/God/whatever your belief always sends us messages. We often move too quickly to notice or we write it off as a coincidence. 

What if we make the effort, slow enough to take in the subtle messages guiding us to continue making a difference? What if instead of New Year's resolutions about losing weight or being more productive, etc., we make it our goal to touch as many people as possible in kind ways that we might typically avoid? What if we become vulnerable enough to interact with strangers in kindness? 

Our efforts don't need to be monumental. They can be a nod, a hand on a shoulder, joking with a stranger, listening when we meet someone who needs to talk, a hug if appropriate, providing encouragement, offering assistance, paying attention … the possibilities are endless. 

What if we practiced this idea a few minutes each day and worked on quieting ourselves long enough to receive the messages that will inevitably make their way to us, encouraging our efforts. They likely won't be bells, but who knows.

It could become addicting. It could spread to our family, friends, and colleagues just as quickly as Covid did. It could change the world for the better.

After realizing the magnitude of our efforts, we could one day find ourselves lamenting just as Oskar did that we didn't start sooner. Wouldn't that be something?

It's going to be one of my goals for 2023. Wanna join me?