Man on Wire, the award-wining documentary about Philippe Petits 1974 high-wire walk between the World Trade Center towers, is thrilling, viscerally uncomfortable and intellectually breathtaking.
The feat itself sounds like a really dumb stunt. It was captured in still photographs how Petit navigated a cable a quarter mile above traffic, battling the unbalancing wind, ignoring the pull of death. The entire time his face was alternately focused, playful, even filled with joy. In recent interviews, he rarely mentions G-d or death. However, Petit does say that swaying between the clouds above and the pavement below affords absolute freedom.
He once said that curtailing his dangerous activities would be like cutting a birds wings Its what we were meant to do. Where is imagination? Where is the beauty of living? I am not advocating danger, but at the same time, to force birds to carry a leash is to kill the idea of what a bird is.
We have just gathered around our seder tables to relive the exodus from Egypt and imagine how it would feel if the chains of our narrow psychological straits broke loose.
What would existence become for us? Would we become empowered, like Philippe Petit, to soar like a bird above all reason and sanity, without a net to catch us?
We dont need to bridge two skyscrapers to feel the full force of the abyss. Were always a blink away from death, illness, tragedy or ruin. We allow these fears of ours to construct our prison. Imagine looking straight into the abyss without flinching; imagine establishing a rhythm of faith that propels, even compels us to reach the other side.
No mention is made in the documentary of the fate of the Twin Towers on Sept. 11, 2001. However, friends recounting how they helped Petit accomplish his goal in 1974 do cry, but only because the moment is so real to them. Petit gathered himself to himself, stepped on the wire, found his rhythm, and smiled. They knew they would never see anything like it again. Ever.
The towers were not yet completed in 1974. Workmen still drilled. Still pounded nails and attached immense beams. In the recounting of Petits feat, you do not hear the agony of the victims of Sept. 11, but you can sense it because for most of us, past and future have a way of framing the present. Its hard to stay in the present moment for even an hour. We often regret what came before and wonder about the future. Its the human predicament.
We know too much; our mental noise is too loud to allow us absolute freedom.
And yet, to every thing there is a season, and a time for every desire. Many feats, seders, fears, seasons may need to pass until we identify our purpose but we can.
As for Mr. Petit, who is now 59, he looks like the same impish kid of yore. There is an eternal youth about him. No doubt he has regrets feats that never actualized, things he never managed to attempt at all. He is, after all, just a human being. But his natural proclivity to traverse the heavens, besides being powerful, is instructive.
