G.I. Jane is one of those movies you don't have to pay much
attention to in order to understand. Demi Moore goes into
the Navy SEALS program, shaves her head, gets sabotaged, then
comes back in the end to kick some government ass. It doesn't
require a lot of brainpower to appreciate a muscular b**ch
who knows how to shoot a gun.
So I was shocked to realize, at the end of this movie, the poetry
of G.I. Jane. As the closing credits approach, we see Demi reading
a book of poetry given to her by her Master Chief, the dude who
kicked her butt in training but whose life she saved on the
battlefield. The poet - D.H. Lawrence. The featured poem? Below...
I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
I find myself so moved by this little nugget of a poem. My periods
of self-pity have waxed and wanned over the years. Since radiation
began a month ago, I've been caught up in it. It's hard not to be
obsessed with such blatant and raw pain. This poem, however, gives
me a different perspective on my suffering, a point of comparison,
a moment of meditation.