I am a big Jurassic Park fan. Like, I may not win a trivia night on the nitty-gritty of the franchise, but I love it for its over-the-top, paradigmatic blockbuster style. There are just certain flagship elements that carry a timeless weight for me. Some of my favorites?
I love the theme -- the delicate, orchestral lead-in all the way through the triumphant flourishes of fortissimo. Ah, I can see the wide, sweeping shots of those ancient animals roaming their earth again. And the haunting, slightly-broken-music-box remix of the theme in the Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom TV teasers plus the expansive reprise in the full trailer only whet my appetite further.
I love the rippling surface of the water cup -- rather than announce the looming presence of the T-Rex with sudden ferocity, the characters instead feel a gentle rumbling that they see manifested in the stillness of a glass of water. It starts to ripple and the disturbance gradually builds in tension until they realize the T-Rex is right on top of them.
I love the velociraptors. While the T-Rex steals the show over and over again, these feisty raptors deliver skeezy villany with great oomph, despite not being your traditional human villain. And a pinnacle of their antagonism comes in a moment of personification, when they are potentially contained away from the fleeing humans “unless they figure out how to open doors.”
In that great moment of cinematic deliciousness, the camera gives us the perspective of our dear characters, as we watch from fleeting safety as a door handle starts to turn, then stutters, and then comes around enough to open the door. The claws, now visible through the cracked-open door, betray that the raptors are nigh, and the persistent little lizard-creatures shove the door open to resume wreaking havoc.
This is the velociraptor moment.
Up to this point, the movie’s characters imagined they were virtually safe, assuming (reasonably so) that these primitive creatures that lacked thumbs or primate brains could not break through a closed metal door to continue their hunt. Unfortunately for them, the raptors are “clever girls,” and find ways to adapt their predatory instincts to pursue these crafty humans. This moment, when they manage to turn a door handle and enter a room, brings the raptors to a new level of threat for the stranded humans.
My wife, Katherine, and I have witnessed a lot of velociraptor moments in this first year of our daughter, Lucy’s, life. While Lucy is not a dinosaur, her journey from being a tiny creature that only eats, sleeps, and poops to becoming one with a much wider and more diverse array of ability has come with many milestone moments. As she discovers and develops new skills, Katherine and I witness these velociraptor moments that signify how life for her and us will never be the same.
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| Above: At about 6 1/2 months, one of the first times we caught Lucy standing up with help. Below: after Lucy learned to roll over, the exploration zone widely increased. |
Seeing her develop these new abilities is awe-inspiring and beautiful. Unlike the velociraptors, whose evolution is truly terrifying, Lucy’s velociraptor moments affirm that God made us fearfully and wonderfully, full of amazing potential and immense capability. Seeing her realize what she can do and then watching her execute those new things shows us of what right now seems like limitless potential.3 We love walking with her as she discovers herself and explores God’s world with us.
And these are the moments I wonder about for myself. I imagine my infancy and toddlerhood likely had a lot of similar moments, and I can recall major realizations in my youth, teenage, and young adult years. And I can see similar moments in my teenage students on our retreats and service outings. 4 But I don’t want the book of velociraptor moments to end for me, just because I have surpassed the ages of more intensive development.
This is why I try to read, and not just idly but to push myself toward long-form journalism pieces in my internet scrolling and honest-to-God bound-and-published books. This is why I find ways to jam in regular exercise, most recently in the form of a collapsible stationary bike that removes the excuse of “I can’t leave the house and leave Lucy to go run” from my arsenal. This is why I go to Mass every Sunday, and why I dove into the parish invite to join a small-group (Thursday morning bible study with retirees, y’all!).5 These things force me to keep reflecting and seeking growth.
Adults have most of the physical development complete; however, the mental, intellectual, emotional, and spiritual development can continue indefinitely… if we choose to sustain it. For adult me, I know I am a better father, husband, brother, son, and friend when I am spiritually grounded. I love how the shape and structure of living my Catholic faith Eucharistically can and will pull me forward, closer to who God created me to be and closer to Him. I believe that my life in the Sacraments, my engagement in my parish and communities, and my openness to give and receive love among my family and friends fuels me onward. And it’s from all of this that my next velociraptor moments will come.
I already know how to open doors, so nothing hiding in that next room is safe from my advance. So what’s next?
1 The first few weeks (even months) of caring for a new baby come with consistent insecurity about the child continuing to be alive. As the baby sleeps soundlessly (between cries), one is left to wonder if the baby continues to breath and live, so these peeks are necessary until the self-security builds.↩
2 Cruising is the technical term to describe an infant using stationary objects as support while they walk, i.e. couches, tables, chairs. Infants can cruise way before they can walk, and the practice helps them gain balance and coordination as they prepare to walk independently.↩
3 Virtually all parents gain some degree of an implicit bias toward their children’s abilities. No matter how humble a parent’s heart may be, parents always -- outwardly or privately -- hope (or even declare) that their children are advanced developmentally. Katherine and I are certainly guilty, so we choose to active mock this instinct by sarcastically lauding Lucy’s presumed “advanced” abilities.↩
4 For example, in leading service outings, my goal is to try to transition teens from “it feels good to serve” or “it opened my eyes to appreciate what I have” to get to a higher/deeper level of “it was powerful to encounter and connect with new people.”
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5 Our pastor made a wonderfully simple and realistic suggestion at the start of this year’s Lent: find one extra thing to do at church or go to at church this Lent. The parish is offering increased confessions, a Wednesday evening daily Mass, and special evening prayers on top of the usual stations of the cross observances and Holy Week liturgies. Cool stuff from Ascension Oak Park!
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