Ah, the climax. Known in literature to be the highest point of tension in plot structure. It’s the turning point in a story. The make-it-or-break-it scene. Think of it as the battle scene like the one I described in a high school bathroom. It’s messy and dirty, and hopefully, it pushes the action forward and leaves the protagonist changed for the better.

Oh, do try to imagine using those words in a room full of eighth graders. Day after day. Year after year. Now imagine yourself NOT laughing. Thus was my teaching career. Not easy, folks. Good thing I have that acting degree; it definitely came in handy.

Back to the climax. I always told students to think of it as the biggest, most strained part of the story. What I never said is, “It’s when the shiz-nit hits the fan.” Don’t you think “battle scene” is more appropriate? Think of it like this nifty piece of art from Sara Neuberger of This Small Object:

Thumb War Battle of 1862, from afar

Getting ugly

Death march into the arms of glory

A scene like this definitely warrants a little pep talk of sorts like this montage from www.overthinkingit.com.

Go get ‘em, Panthers! Wait that’s not in there. That’s “Friday Night Lights.” But there are lots of battle scenes in a show about football.

Thank goodness life isn’t one climax/battle scene after another. It would be exhausting. There’s a lot of build up to a climax. Observe:

There’s the inciting incident, or a call into action which eventually pulls a reluctant protagonist into a major conflict or problem. Though the protagonist may not want to be in conflict with their antagonist (whomever or whatever is working against them), that tug-of-war will create tiny little conflicts known as rising action. Those tiny conflicts create tension and build plot, forcing the protagonist to a turning point, or climax, when the protagonist will face an important decision: to go through with “it” (whatever “it” might be) or plead the cop-out. There will be fall-out in some form or fashion, as stories get messy. If the story is Braveheart, it gets really messy. If the story is Mel Gibson’s personal life, things get really, really–I miss the Mel of Braveheart, don’t you? I digress–

It takes some serious work to get to a turning point in the action (or even finish reading this blog–you’re all such troopers). Truth is, some plot lines or life stories never really reach a climax, or the culmination of all the hard work a story requires. It takes a lot of time and energy to engage in life. To walk the walk let alone plot the plot.

In books, films, and TV shows, the best stories are the ones we share with other people. Consider how many of the scenes in that crazy montage above involved inspiring a whole slew of people to rise up and fight the antagonist they were up against. Life, even the battle scenes and the ones with the most tension, is best when we get to live it with other people. Members of our tribe. I’d be lying if I said my natural instinct isn’t to run for seclusion in the face of conflict instead of looking to a supportive tribe.

Adding to my problem of avoiding real life are the many distractions out there nowadays. Too much technology. Too many ways to engage without really engaging. (I am aware that I am writing this on my blog.) There are just so many ways to ignore real inciting incidents, avoid conflict, and avert a situation that will force us into decision, especially the kind that can change our lives. By the by, how ironic is it that reality TV is so popular?

Speaking for myself, as I’m always doing on this here blog, I find that I trade the comfort of avoiding conflict for really living life sometimes. The advantage: I think I can avoid this world’s problems. But problems, they find me. They sneak up and enthusiastically bite me on my fanny. My effort to avoid the effort is in vane.

What if–just what if I stood and faced fears and problems head on? What if I welcomed the challenge and change that conflicts bring? What if I threw out a welcome mat instead of slamming the door?

Because dead-bolting life away is only closing me off, and that peep hole offers a really bad view of what my life could be.

I saw this funny/odd little  kids’ movie recently, mainly because Natalie Portman is in it, and I loves me some Queen Amidala (how great was she in Beautiful Girls?). I never expected to get anything out of Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium, but I stood (sat, really) corrected. Toward the end, Mr. Magorium challenges Natalie Portman’s character to start engaging in her life. He says, “Your life is an occasion. Rise up to meet it.”

Maybe it was the fact that it was a kids’ movie and all fantastical and … stuff, but I imagined life as the metaphorical roller coaster (not just the cliche, now) we always use to describe it. How much better it would be to venture out on the ride with a car full of people, rising up to meet the high points and huddling together and even somehow enjoying the ride down to the valleys. Instead of just watching Goonies being a Goonie!

Too much? Yeah, probably too much.

Donald Miller (I’m a fan–ahem, understatement), does a far better job of talking about climax and all elements of plot in real life in his latest book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. I strongly recommend it to anyone who let’s me drone on and on about its fabulosity.

Much like today. Much like this here post. Sayonara, yo. Gotta go out get me some o’ that Carpe Diem and junk.