Being There

Published in the Idaho State Journal and Blackfoot Morning News week starting May 23, 2010

I recently saw the film Being There, starring Peter Sellers as Chance the gardener. Chance lives a sheltered life in the home of an elderly man where he tends to the gardens and sees the world only through television. One day, he elderly man dies. Chance is expelled into the mean streets of Washington DC, where it is assumed he is a man of means with his finely tailored suits and gentle demeanor.

Chance, by chance, is struck by the limousine of Eve Rand, whose husband Ben is a wealthy, elderly, and dying businessman. Chance is whisked to their estate for medical care and on the way Chance the gardener is misidentified as Chauncey Gardiner. In what seems to be a ‘70’s version of Forrest Gump, he is ushered into a world where he rubs elbows with the US President, business executives, and foreign dignitaries.

Chance has no self-awareness. He simply “is.” We don’t learn why, but he has been sequestered his entire life and his world-view doesn’t extend past his gardens or TV shows. But by simply “being there,” he offers those around him comfort, wisdom, love, and answers. His flaws and secrets are eventually revealed—he isn’t Chauncey Gardiner, man-of-means, breeding, and business success—but the effect he has on the people around him are ultimately what defines who he is.

What effect do we have on the lives of others by simply being there? Chance was thrown into a world that was way over his head as we often are, and it was as simple as dressing the part, and otherwise being himself that allowed others to pick up on his natural strengths.

Chance didn’t know to be nervous, insecure, or intimidated. He only knew to be agreeable and pleasant in uncertain surroundings, to be a reflective listener, and to offer insight from his limited well of experience with a smile. With his social simplicity, he offers us an opportunity to explore how we socially over-complicate things in our own lives.

There isn’t any reason to think, as long as we aren’t being physically off-putting (sweatpants at fancy parties, cigarette perfume in close quarters), that we aren’t being received well by others. Chance’s over-the-top naïveté and intellectual limitations didn’t stop the people around him from appreciating what he had to offer, and didn’t stop him from fully being who he was.

Unfortunately, most of us aren’t blessed with this lack of self-consciousness. We’re nervous, we’re insecure, and we’re easily intimidated. We shy away from situations that might expose what we don’t know; we keep ourselves on the sidelines because of the faulty assumption that others see us as nothing but a blob of flaws. Instead, wouldn’t it be great if we assumed people will identify the best in us, that we assumed we are interesting individuals with unique perspectives and insights that others will appreciate? Imagine being there, anywhere, with that frame of mind.

In the strange final scene, Chance, literally, walks on water. Why? Roger Ebert, film critic, says “Th(is) movie presents us with an image, and while you may discuss the meaning of the image, it is not permitted to devise explanations for it.” Which means, any theory goes! I love that rule. So, maybe Chance is Jesus. Or maybe, if we decide to Chance it and cast off the weight of our own negative self-image, we are light and free enough to do pretty much anything. Maybe that’s worth a try. Onward!

Nancy Goodman is a licensed counselor with an emphasis on life and career coaching. For questions or to schedule a free consultation, please contact Nancy at 208-478-1414 or goodnanc@yahoo.com. http://vocatusidaho.blogspot.com.