Synchronicity — Serendipity — A dance between the universe and our human experience.
A few months back, I wandered past a movie called “The History of Future Folk”. I didn’t think twice about it, but my husband suggested I might like it. I stopped scrolling and decided to give it a try. Thank goodness he pointed it out. With minimal background information, I watched 3/4 of the movie and was floored.
It was magical. Medicinal. Cathartic. Comfortable. Warm. I fell into the story, the music, and the genuine compassion woven throughout. I wanted to rewatch with my husband, so about 20 minutes from the end I turned it off.
Several weeks later, I went back to watch and couldn’t find “The History of Future Folk” anywhere. Not streaming, not for sale, not at the used book/CD shops. Nowhere. I was really surprised that it had disappeared so thoroughly, and a bit sad not to get to finish it. I know it’s just a movie. I know.
To say I was “sad” about not getting to watch a movie all the way through… I might clarify to say “bummed” or “mildly bothered”. I didn’t feel “sad” like I did after the suicides of two friends in close succession freshman year of high school. Or after the shooting at my university on Valentine’s Day. Or after the first time I had to perform CPR on a human who should have been allowed to die peacefully in her sleep. Or the lifeless body I tried to help on the side of a snowy highway. Or the loss of my North Star nurse, suffering in silence and gone much too early from this planet.
My emotional spectrum continually recalibrates. I get stuck picking a word to qualify an experience that seems mundane or insignificant “in the grand scheme of things”.
As a dear friend would say, “it’s not that deep”.
I was just disappointed.
I wanted some closure, and got a little stuck.
Then, I let it go.
For a bit…
A while later, I searched on Google. Was “The History of Future Folk” anywhere?
YES!
Somehow, it had been put back on Netflix again! A miracle? What luck!! Serendipity? I’ll take it!
I finished where I’d started (in case it disappeared again) then began re-watching this magical piece of human creation again.
Why? What was it that felt so special?
Could’ve been the timing in my life, the beauty of music in telling stories, the universal connection across time and experience. Just because. Synchronicity?
I felt so satisfied.
This week when I began to watch “The History of Future Folk” again, Netflix informed that it was going to be removed mid-December. An expiration date?!! Gaaah! Not again!! The impermanence of it all was bothersome. A taste of the finite human experience. You can have it, but just for a while.
I might not get to see this movie again. Just that. Like, okay, but also, could I find myself a copy since I can’t stream it forever? This was a very modern problem that I felt sure had a modern solution.
I searched the internet and stumbled upon the Future Folk website: futurefolk.com
A dive back in time. The latest posts were from 2014. Eight years ago. “Old” on the spectrum of the constantly-updated and ever-new current of digital information. One could say, “inactive”. Or maybe “slumbering”.
I found an email address and decided to reach out. It went like this:
Hello, I'm interested in talking about the History of Future Folk. Is this email still active? Is there a place to purchase the movie and/or soundtrack that best supports the creators? Thanks! Jessie, Illinois, Earth
And, believe it or not, I got a response. Not just a response, but a compassionate, human reply. And very quickly, I might add.
The reply indicated, yes, the film will soon be taken down from Netflix. Also, the DVD is out of print. But… BUT… (I like big “buts”) — the email included some digital medicine. Music, movie, and coloring book.
All hope was not lost. I was given access to my medicine, indefinitely. Finding content that resonates deeply with me has changed over the last few years. I seek darker laughs, deeper connections, and art that captures the indescribable. Work that is discerning. Stories that touch on the parts of my vulnerable human experience that feel too complicated to explain. Magic.
The response was signed “General T”. The email address gave away their earthling identity: Nils d’Aulaire. My heart was overflowing. It still is.
This story is about so much more than a “just” a movie. It’s about finding people, places, events, experiences that resonate. Going towards the warmth — while appreciating the cold. Valuing growing pains — and seeking solace. Noticing the dark — and seeking light. Acknowledging similarities — dancing with differences.
Sometimes my mind tricks me into believing that I’m alone in the way I feel. I’m the only one who gets blindsided by winters. I am taking too long to recover. I’m not unique. Or I’m entirely different.
I might be clinging too hard to “should”.
And when I find myself needing a dose of human medicine, I can now watch, listen, or color Future Folk. And that feels warm.
Stay warm everyone.
Love,
Jessie
PS: HONDO!!
