Unfortunately, I didn't get to see Avatar in 3 D. Honestly, I'm not sure I've ever seen any movie in 3-D, which is sad to say and I've probably horribly embarrassed my kids. So I didn't think much of it when we decided to go to a non-3-D showing about a month ago. I enjoyed the movie, and as great as the special effects were sans the glasses, I went away thinking, "I can see the difference that 3-D would have made in that flick. The flying scenes? (I heard someone got little queasy on those rides) And when he touches the plants in the jungle and they immediately fold up? Lots of places I thought the 3-D perspective probably would enhance my viewing of the film.
I thought about that today when I picked up John Ortberg's book "It All Goes Back in the Box." About how seeing things from a different perspective can give us a better understanding of what's really going on. Ortberg uses playing board games as his analogy, particularly playing Monopoly as a kid with his aging grandmother who had no pity on him just because he was a kid (sound familiar, Ann?) When he finally beats her, he wants to spend a lot of time relishing the victory, maybe bronzing the board to commemorate the act. But all his grandmother says is, "Okay, now it all goes back in the box."
Can you work this out? At the end of the game, does it really matter who wins or loses, because it all goes back in the box? At the end of the game, what's really important? If we could develop that perspective on the game of our existence--hey, at the end, it all goes back in the box, all the achievements, all the things, all the status, all the money, even all the losing, all the pain--if we could get that eternal perspective, the eternal 3-D so to speak, how would it change the way we look at what's important in our lives? I've got to believe that how we invest our time, heck how we invest our very selves, would change if we caught just a glimpse of that. What is it that I consider so important right now that one day is just going to go back in the box?
It's old, but it's poignant--no one ever says on their death bed, "I wish I could have spent more time at the office."
Anyone up to seeing Avatar in 3-D?
I thought about that today when I picked up John Ortberg's book "It All Goes Back in the Box." About how seeing things from a different perspective can give us a better understanding of what's really going on. Ortberg uses playing board games as his analogy, particularly playing Monopoly as a kid with his aging grandmother who had no pity on him just because he was a kid (sound familiar, Ann?) When he finally beats her, he wants to spend a lot of time relishing the victory, maybe bronzing the board to commemorate the act. But all his grandmother says is, "Okay, now it all goes back in the box."
Can you work this out? At the end of the game, does it really matter who wins or loses, because it all goes back in the box? At the end of the game, what's really important? If we could develop that perspective on the game of our existence--hey, at the end, it all goes back in the box, all the achievements, all the things, all the status, all the money, even all the losing, all the pain--if we could get that eternal perspective, the eternal 3-D so to speak, how would it change the way we look at what's important in our lives? I've got to believe that how we invest our time, heck how we invest our very selves, would change if we caught just a glimpse of that. What is it that I consider so important right now that one day is just going to go back in the box?
It's old, but it's poignant--no one ever says on their death bed, "I wish I could have spent more time at the office."
Anyone up to seeing Avatar in 3-D?
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