"This isn't flying. It's falling, with style."

Toy Story is one of my favorite movies.  Made for kids yet, bringing out the child in all of us, the movie makes us laugh, worry, and root for the characters as if we were there.  We can't help but relate to the talking toys, fully bringing us into our childhood years when "playing pretend" could take us anywhere.  From Woody to Mr. Potatohead, from Rex to Bo-peep, these unrealistic characters seem more easy to relate to than most people we meet on the streets.  Each individual presents us with a distinct personality, a blatant flaw, and an obstacle that needs to be over come.

The best example of this (and my favorite character in the movie) is Buzz Lightyear.  Strong, resilient, and dedicated to stopping intergalactic crime, Buzz is confronted with the bleak reality that his entire perspective on life is tragically flawed.  The valiant unstoppable hero is cut to the fiber of his being when he is told his true identity: that of a child's toy.  Unwilling to accept this as truth, Lightyear decides to show the world his identity through his ability to fly.  He stands on the top of an open stairwell, activates his wings, and jumps.  Moving forward through the air, his confident expression shows us he has never doubted himself.  Never once, until now.

Tragedy strikes.  Lightyear's flight quickly turns into a free fall as the hero plummets into the ravine of the stairwell.  The hero hits the ground, smashing not only his plastic exterior but, his hopes and his dreams.

In life, we all find ourselves in Buzz's position: confronted with monumental obstacles, overwhelmed, and disheartened.  Although they're not the dragons, monsters, and armies of stories books, the our challenges can be equally as fiery, scary, and daunting.

Buzz moved toward his challenge with complete confidence.  At no point did he expect to be dethroned as hero of the universe.  In many ways, we can all relate to Buzz in our failures.  Luckily for us, the story does not end there.

Lightyear comes to accept that he is a toy.  A simply toy at that, with wings that cannot make him fly, a laser that cannot kill enemies, and a helmet that cannot protect him.  The hope comes in his character development.  He will not live a life void of purpose.  Buzz can still do good, helping people, and be the friend the others need.

Often times when people create blogs like this, they act like they have some large contribution to offer.  Some thought, idea, or concept that other people haven't thought of before.  When coming up with a name for this blog, I considered tons of possibilities.  Stoic, epic names that couldn't possibly convey everything I was going to potentially post.  Pretty soon, I was questioning why I was blogging in the first place...  I don't have anything new to share that someone hasn't already said.  Everything's been said before.  Like Lightyear, I realized there was no ultimate cosmic significance to my blog.  And yet, here we are.

At the end of the movie, Woody is in disbelief.  Buzz is flying through the air and carrying him toward Andy's moving truck.  He yells, "Buzz!  You're flying!".   Buzz, knowingly smiles.  He's been here before.  Will he arrogantly accept his role as hero of the universe?  Not a chance.  He's living his life with what he has, doesn't have all the answers, and is taking life day by day.  I hope this blog will reflect the final words of Buzz Lightyear:

 "This isn't flying.  It's falling, with style."