What lie do you want to live?

I watched Sabrina the other night. It’s was the 1995 version with Harrison Ford. The old one with Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn is much better, but sometimes you deliberately do things that might seem out of character (like watching a remake when you know the original is way better) just to see what happens.

The movie is so unremarkable that it was hard finding a picture that captured the essence of the plot.So I settled for this because of the bikes. I love bikes.

I’ve been watching a lot of romantic films lately. I don’t know what that tells you about me. I think maybe I’m looking for answers. What the question is I’m not quite sure though. I think I’m searching for that too.

Even though this version of Sabrina is pretty forgettable, one part of it stuck with me.

It was when Linus Larrabee (played by Harrison Ford) confesses his true love for Sabrina (played by Julia Ormond). He explains that his love for her started as a lie, which grew into a dream, and now he was standing there hoping against hope for the dream to turn into reality.

I remember when I was a kid and people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I would tell them all sorts of things. I tried to be consistent, but to be honest I had no clue what I wanted to be.

I quickly learned that wasn’t an appropriate answer.

So I started to get creative.

I told them I wanted to become an archaeologist (after having watched Indiana Jones). I told them I wanted to become a writer (I love books). I told them I wanted to become a journalist (the more respectable version of a writer). I told them I wanted to become a lawyer (I blame Ally McBeal).

Now at the time I didn’t think of these stories as lies. But looking back I see that they were.

As we get older we’re told to be reasonable. To only take calculated risks. To not live with our heads in the clouds anymore. And I guess we’re told these things with the best of intentions. But why aren’t we allowed to be dreamers anymore?

It happened gradually, but the result was not to be mistaken: Playing pretend – or lying – became something you weren’t supposed to do anymore.

As an adult it’s expected that you have it all figured out – or at least pretend that you do. Somehow that lie is still accepted.

I don’t know what I want my life to become. I don’t know what I want to achieve. But maybe I can start with just telling myself a few lies. Just to see how they match the color of my eyes. And maybe one of these lies will stand out. I’ll think about it more than the others, imagining it in more and more details. Until it’s no longer a lie, but a dream – a goal.

Sometimes it’s necessary to deliberately tell yourself something that you know is not true, just to see how it fits. How else do you grow?

I don’t know if that’s how you’re supposed to do it.

I don’t even know who the lie is for – the one you’re telling it to? Or yourself? I suspect the latter.

So ok.

For the next week I will live a lie. Why not?

It shouldn’t feel too different from what I’m doing now.

If you could play pretend and live a lie - what would your lie be?