Ford vs. Ferrari

Been sick with the flu for nearly two weeks now.  The high fevers are gone yet physical exertion still forces a lung to my cheek in a  coughing fit. Talking does too.  I am left to be quiet so my lungs may slither back into my chest.   

So, I’ve watched the Oscar nominated movies systematically - research y’ know. 

Yesterday I watched Ford vs. Ferrari.  It was formulaic and predicable, I know.  Yet, its fast machines, like the ones I grew up with, and its good actors made me forget story structure.  I clapped, cheered, and even shed a few tears.  The film had me in the first few minutes with Matt Damon’s voice over.  He spoke about hitting the rpm-sweet-spot which is to be interpreted as metaphorical peace.  It happens when the “machine becomes weightless” and “all that’s left, [is] a body moving through space and time.”   He says it’s at 7000 rpm “…where you meet it.  That’s where it waits for you…”  A question waits: “Who are you?” 

The proposition from the question suddenly struck me,  It drew my first tear because I have felt that place, twice at least, when all that once defined me was gone, being left with only myself floating through space and time.

The question of identity coming from being stripped of all moorings rises to help us know, and perhaps reimagine, what our lives are built on.  Self-made people are in trouble at once when this happens because what they created for identity masquerades who they are.  The movie suggests that at the correct rpm successes, failures, and opinions fly away. Not all can handle that scary place of vulnerability as we later see when Damon takes Mr. Ford for a high-speed ride. We know in that moment why Ford must always win, no matter at the cost.

As I was thinking about the brilliance of that scene to communicate in a visceral way Mr. Ford’s inner motivations and complete lack of peace, I remembered once learning the word peace comes from the idea of a mended bone, which ironically becomes stronger at the point of the break.  I wondered if it were possible to have the peace that Mr. Ford was lacking without the benefits of brokenness and without answering the question in that disquieting moment of weightlessness, when all we thought mattered for identity suddenly cannot help us. That moment is suddenly critical for how we survive the rest of our lives or perhaps even more critical, how other people survive us.   

The danger of lacking peace tempts us to extract it from life and from others.  Being around someone lacking peace isn’t hard to figure out.  The demands are felt in the air.  The machinery is not weightless.  The striving is heavy.  But, the opposite is also felt.  When someone is in that “sweet-spot” there is light air for everyone to breathe.  There is sense that the question has been answered and is open to all for the daring.