I just finished watching Pixar’s new movie: Soul. I had a beautiful and complicated reaction to the film that I don’t fully understand quite yet. But I loved it. Hey I can be verbose and dramatic about my feelings ok? It’s my blog.

Near the end of the movie I started tearing up. I was watching it on the living room couch with my wife, and like every other time I tear up–I tried desperately to blink it away and hide it. Let’s get some things straight:

• As mushy as my blog can get, I believe I truly don’t tear up often. When my uncle told me my father had cancer, he broke down and started weeping. And don’t get me wrong, I love my father and I was devastated. But I weirdly didn’t cry at all. Even I thought it was weird.
• The above doesn’t apply to sad dog stories. I will sob like a baby. Humans suck, but dogs deserve all the good things in this world.
• I also have nothing against people that cry. Crying is emotionally cathartic. It can be painful, but it can also be good for the soul. I will say that I have a hard time crying in front of other people. I don’t know if it’s societal masculinity written in to me, or if I just find the act a very personal thing. I’m a private person by nature.

Ok, thanks for reading that awful preface. Back to the movie.

My wife was asking me what I thought about Soul after we finished watching. I gave a pretty generic answer: “I liked it a lot!” But in my head I was thinking “holy shit, this movie touched me in some profound way that I can’t fully explain, and trying to talk through the thought process right now would cheapen the experience some how.”

No one wants to hear that. Your significant other will always want to be that partner who you can discuss the meaning of life with right? But to be honest, something gets lost in translation for me when I try to talk about life and meaning out loud. Did I say what I meant? Did I word it right? What did they think? Will they think I’m being pretentious? Will they even understand? Why should I even care what others think?

It’s just too much. Too much effort to explain. Too much thought wasted.

Is this post about the movie? Or about my jaded view on discussing the meanings of life with other people? One thing’s for sure, it’s quite the ramble.

Pixar’s “Soul” touches upon themes of meaning and purpose in life, inspiration and sparks of joy. It speaks on the beauty of art, music, good food, and family. But it also talks about the dangers of obsessing on one thing, getting lost in trying to find a higher meaning, and missing out on the simple joys of life.

An unborn soul, notorious for finding earthly pursuits boring, winds up in a borrowed body. However, soul #22 finds themselves strangely appreciating not the big and lively passions of life, but rather the mundane daily things like a lollipop from the barber, falling leaves during a walk, a musician in the subway.

Warning, more personal monologue incoming. When I was younger, I walked home from school in the rain one time. Now, I know the teenage years are filled with angst, hormones, and internal drama. But there was something beautiful and romantic about the dreary walk in the rain. Not romantic in the loving sense, but rather that indescribable feeling that wells up in you when you read a good book. Or that sense of wanderlust you get when you take a road-trip. In my older age, I get that feeling of romance a lot less often. Sometimes when I experience it these days, I even talk myself out of it. “Stop being pretentious.” “Oh you’re just rationalizing an expensive hobby.”

Why do I do this? If I’m sitting listening to a vinyl record, sipping a nice cup of coffee, and enjoying the moment, why is that a bad thing? So what if the experience is partially social media brainwashing, American consumerism marketing, materialistic and self-indulgent? I’m not hurting anyone, and I’m not burning my life-savings in some self-destructive hobby. So why am I so hard on myself?

I think the big takeaway here is appreciating the simple things in life. But “Soul” resonated with me in much deeper ways–something that spoke to the kid in me, that always chased meaning in life, but never got to achieve something that made my pursuits feel worth it. I love video games but I’ve never been good enough to go professional. I find piano so beautiful, but I never made a living out of it. I got hired to the company of my dreams, but I work in a back office function instead of touching the actual video games themselves. I’ve been trying to complete a novel for years.

In the same manner, the main character in “Soul” is an average Joe who has a strong passion for jazz but has always come up just short in life. He gets gigs but never makes the big time. He wants to teach jazz but winds up being a band teacher in middle school. He finally gets the gig of a lifetime, but falls in a manhole.

But it’s ok. In trying to help soul #22 find meaning in passion, 22 helps Joe find meaning in the simple things of life, in the “failed” pursuits, in the second places. And that hit me hard. It hit me in a way I couldn’t understand at the time I was hiding my tears. Not until I started writing this wordy, aimless, stream of thought did I realize what touched me so profoundly about the movie. It’s ok. Your life is ok. You’re worthy of this little spot you’ve carved out in this universe. You, yourself, have meaning regardless of the things you succeeded or failed to accomplish.

You. Are. Meaningful.

God, why is Pixar so good?