December 4, 2003 -- Stew speaks about A Beautiful Mind
My experiences with A Beautiful Mind
When I first heard about the movie “A Beautiful Mind” I dismissed it as some type of quasi-chick flick “feel good” movie that I had no interest in watching. Biographies in general don’t much interest me, biographies of old teachers really don’t interest me.
It wasn’t until the movie came out on video that I really started paying attention to it. Somebody told me that it was about a guy with schizophrenia. Interesting, I thought. I have elements of schizophrenia at times. And then my spiritual advisor, Rad Peterson, really encouraged me to watch it, so I rented it on VHS.
About an hour into it, I really couldn’t take it. I was disinterested, and the sound quality of the tape made it excruciating to watch. But I did feel a bit of kinship with John Nash. Again, Rad, encouraged me to watch it. I hemmed and hawed about it, but kept it in the back of my mind, until my parents watched it on DVD.
So I thought I’d try again, and this time rented the DVD version. This time I was able to get through about an hour and a half, and again I was overcome by how much I identified with Nash. I told Monique my troubles with watching it, and so she agreed she would watch it with me. So on my third attempt, I watched the movie all the way through in one setting.
It was about at the point where Nash had been released from the hospital and he’s sitting in his living room and he asks his wife, “What do people do?” that I lost it. I started with a massive sobbing attack, because that summed up a dilemma that I felt I had: What do I do with my life? How do I live? What if I do live to be 70, 80, or 90… who is going to be around to help take care of me?
This wasn’t the first time I identified with a character in a movie so deeply. One of the Star Trek movies, Nemesis, I think, had a deep effect on me. When Data died, I sobbed for about 20 minutes non-stop. I felt as if a brother, or a best friend, had died. So for me, identifying with John Nash wasn’t that unusual, it was just very deep and profound.
I don’t see people, like Nash did in the movie. At worst I see shadows at night, moving out of the periphery of my vision. Like when you see something out of the corner of your eye, but then you focus on it, and it disappears…I routinely have that kind of sensation at night, unfortunately it happens a lot when I’m driving. The other sensation I have is that of somebody just speaking my name – it usually comes from behind me and to my right – and usually when I’m in the store. At first I would spin around to see who was calling me, but after it happened enough times, I’ve learned that it’s not real, though it feels very real.
When I first heard about the movie “A Beautiful Mind” I dismissed it as some type of quasi-chick flick “feel good” movie that I had no interest in watching. Biographies in general don’t much interest me, biographies of old teachers really don’t interest me.
It wasn’t until the movie came out on video that I really started paying attention to it. Somebody told me that it was about a guy with schizophrenia. Interesting, I thought. I have elements of schizophrenia at times. And then my spiritual advisor, Rad Peterson, really encouraged me to watch it, so I rented it on VHS.
About an hour into it, I really couldn’t take it. I was disinterested, and the sound quality of the tape made it excruciating to watch. But I did feel a bit of kinship with John Nash. Again, Rad, encouraged me to watch it. I hemmed and hawed about it, but kept it in the back of my mind, until my parents watched it on DVD.
So I thought I’d try again, and this time rented the DVD version. This time I was able to get through about an hour and a half, and again I was overcome by how much I identified with Nash. I told Monique my troubles with watching it, and so she agreed she would watch it with me. So on my third attempt, I watched the movie all the way through in one setting.
It was about at the point where Nash had been released from the hospital and he’s sitting in his living room and he asks his wife, “What do people do?” that I lost it. I started with a massive sobbing attack, because that summed up a dilemma that I felt I had: What do I do with my life? How do I live? What if I do live to be 70, 80, or 90… who is going to be around to help take care of me?
This wasn’t the first time I identified with a character in a movie so deeply. One of the Star Trek movies, Nemesis, I think, had a deep effect on me. When Data died, I sobbed for about 20 minutes non-stop. I felt as if a brother, or a best friend, had died. So for me, identifying with John Nash wasn’t that unusual, it was just very deep and profound.
I don’t see people, like Nash did in the movie. At worst I see shadows at night, moving out of the periphery of my vision. Like when you see something out of the corner of your eye, but then you focus on it, and it disappears…I routinely have that kind of sensation at night, unfortunately it happens a lot when I’m driving. The other sensation I have is that of somebody just speaking my name – it usually comes from behind me and to my right – and usually when I’m in the store. At first I would spin around to see who was calling me, but after it happened enough times, I’ve learned that it’s not real, though it feels very real.
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