A Soft Place to Land
One of my favorite scenes of the movie, The Princess Bride, comes near the end. It is a lovely scene transcending the action sequence to become an allegory for change successfully managed. Since life is full of change, and navigating it is inherently stressful, holding onto that image is like keeping a charm in my pocket. With change, we have to take a leap of faith. We hope that we’ll find a soft place to land. While there is no guarantee, we still hold onto the possibility as a spark of optimism.
In The Princess Bride scene, the heroes have overcome the villains and are making their escape from the castle. One by one, the three of them jump through the window and fall down, down, down. The fourth hero, the giant, is on the ground below. He catches the princess, the love interest, and the comrade, breaking their falls gently. Motion slows down, attenuated through the magic of film, while retaining the sense of falling through the characters’ motions, hair flying, expressions determined and just a wee bit concerned about the possible outcome.
The sequence is pivotal, bridging the part where, “The End”, usually flashes across the screen and what might happen next. The motivations driving the characters from the start of the movie have been resolved. The princess and the love interest have overcome near-impossible odds (including death) to come together; the comrade got his sweet revenge on the man who killed his beloved father. The giant (another comrade) on the ground below proved his worthiness to be a member of the band by procuring the get-away vehicles, which in this case are four white horses. The main characters ride off into the wide-open world, and the audience understands they have places to go and things to see and do. Just because the adventure ended didn’t mean the characters were finished — which echoes a curious aspect of real life in a way that film rarely considers!
That sensation of seeking a soft place to land is fairly common. In one form or another, it shows up at times as a wistful wish. This is especially pertinent after we’ve hit stony ground more than once in past go-rounds. We catch ourselves wondering what might break our falls and leave us unbruised to mount our metaphoric white horses, riding away to new adventures. The idea feels like magic exists on our side, like the amazing, sweet luck of winning a mini-lottery.
A soft place to land can be many different things. It can be an actual place, like coming home. It can be a thing, like money to follow a dream. Often, a soft place to land is with another person.
Humans are truly wired for connection, and connection with others of our species tends to be the gold standard for relationships (although some pet guardians may disagree!). Relationships between people seem to be formed in cycles. However much we have in common, disagreement or separation erupts inevitably at some point. How we handle the disruptions sets the stage for the next level.
We hope that we will handle the disruptions with a bit of grace, maybe even kindness and understanding. More importantly, we hope that the partner in our relationship will reciprocate. We want to trust that the other person — like the giant in The Princess Bride — is there to catch us when we fall. We want to believe that we matter enough for the effort to be made, a volitional act of gentleness in a world where struggle is the norm, and can we feel like we’re tiny pinballs careening off obstacles that have no investment in our paltry selves. Those obstacles have no responsibility for the pain caused by the collisions.
There may be times when we find those soft places to land. It feels really good. Other times, we are left to our own devices and nothing breaks the fall. The landing is hard. We have to pick ourselves up off the ground and hobble off to the next adventure. There is no white horse to ride.
In those cases, we truly master our maturity. By this I mean, we have to develop the internal resources to heal ourselves and steer the way forward. This is rarely easy and certainly not the preferred alternative. Yet when we do, we at least have the potential of a new adventure waiting in store for our very own selves. That’s the promised land, and we can seek the safety of its shore. Having the option to go there allows us a fresh start.
We may also be called upon by others to be the one who breaks their fall. Many reasons exist for how and why we might fail — from not noticing a catch is needed, to not being able to do the actual catching. However, when we can break another’s fall, we are like the giant in The Princess Bride. We show that we belong to the team. We get to be one of the heroes, and that shines in our lives as a glorious moment.
Life is difficult enough. A soft place to land from time to time surely is a goal that is realistically aspirational. It ought to be attainable and of course, it is desired. Connection with our fellow beings is a major key to success, and the concept of easy landings serves as an antidote for the harshness of the reality we sometimes see. When we can be there for each other . . . well, a little bit of magic goes a long way.
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