One of my absolute favorite movies (and books, for that matter) is The Martian. Hidden in this story about space travel and disco music is true wisdom about persistence.
If you know nothing about it, here’s the short version:
A few decades in the future, one of the first human missions to Mars has to abort and evacuate the planet due to a severe dust storm that could destroy their habitable base and topple their only escape vehicle. In the chaos of the evacuation, one of the astronauts is hit by debris and presumed dead by the rest of the crew. The mission commander decides to follow procedure to ensure the safety of the remaining five astronauts.
Except the next morning, the sixth astronaut—Mark Watney—wakes to find himself alive, alone, and needing to survive solo on a dead planet.
Of course, in the end Watney is rescued and the story has a happy ending. And that’s one of the things I love most about it.
When so many films about technology and science and the future are bleak, and the world outside the films seems just as uncertain, this story’s a breath of fresh air.
It’s about hope, and the incredible things humans can do when we work together towards a common goal.
How for all our supposed independence and self-sufficiency and distrust of each other, deep down we’re still a bunch of hyper-social apes who will refuse to abandon someone 181 million miles away.
At the end of the film Mark gives a short monologue to a room of astronaut hopefuls about how dangerous space is. It’s stuck with me ever since I heard it for the first time:
“At some point, everything’s gonna go south on you. Everything’s gonna go south, and you’re gonna say this is it. This is how I end.
Now you can either accept that, or you can get to work.
That’s all it is. You just…begin. You do the math. You solve one problem, then you solve the next one. And then the next. And if you solve enough problems you get to come home.”
Hopefully the consequences aren’t as dire as whether or not you get to go home. But no matter where you are in life or what you’re doing, it’s a good way to frame whatever you’re dealing with.
You might just be reworking a complex design last-minute. Or you’re figuring out how to balance all of your obligations. Or evaluating a career change that feels absolutely terrifying.
You solve one problem, then you solve the next one.
That’s all it is. You just begin.