In Other Words
Karen Restivo
Imagine walking into a multiplex theatre on a Saturday afternoon with one thing in mind - the new film everyone’s been talking about.
Once payment is rendered, mapping your destination comes down to navigating the halls of the multiplex as you maneuver your way past the video arcade, snack bar, life size movie posters, and voluntarily enter the darkened space of the film maker’s three-hour Odessey. But somewhere between the lobby and the hallway, something shifts. A poster caught your eye.
The smell of popcorn pulls you left and in line behind eight moviegoers.
To make up for lost time from your purchases, you snag the shortcut near the digital display flashing future movie trailers.
Breathing a sigh of relief, you finally settle into your seat - wait, it’s not Theater 7’s large accommodations; instead, it’s about half the size and you’re not entirely sure how you got here.
And the movie playing? It’s fine. It’s just not the one you came to see.
If this scenario feels awkwardly familiar, it’s because it mirrors the chaos in your everyday life.
We wake up with a destination in mind.
A Goal. A task. A conversation we need to have, a project we need to finish, a decision we need to make.
We set the GPS to our destination, but the world is designed like a very intriguing multiplex - full of appealing detours, flashing lights, and systems quietly calculating which screening room you’re most likely to wander into based on everywhere you’ve wandered before.
The multiplex doesn’t mean you harm.
It simply has no stake in whether you see the movie you came for.
It only knows your patterns, and it follows them faithfully.
Welcome to the quiet tension of modern life: the gap between intention and arrival.
Between knowing where you mean to go and getting there.
The antidote is simple - but simple is not the same as easy.
It means writing it down, saying it out loud, or telling someone else, so that when the lobby dazzles you, you have something to return to.
It means noticing the moment you’ve been redirected and asking yourself: did I choose this, or did something choose it for me?
Purpose isn’t loud. Distraction is. Purpose doesn’t flash or autoplay or send you notifications. It just waits - in Theatre 7 - for you to show up.
The films playing in the other theaters aren’t necessarily bad.
Sometimes a wonderful accident happens in the wrong hallway.
But a life built entirely on detours is a life measured in “almost” and “I meant to.” In other words, stick with your intention, the ticket’s been purchased, so go see your movie. Get the picture?
Karenrestivo57@gmail.com