You can figure out who you were by which movies you loved when.

Listen, O seekers of wisdom, to the words of Mary Schmich, who, with insight and clarity, said: "You can figure out who you were by which movies you loved when." These words carry a profound truth—that the stories we love, the films we hold dear, reflect not just our preferences, but the very essence of our souls at different points in time. In the flickering images of the screen, we find a mirror that reflects the yearnings, the fears, and the hopes that reside within us. The movies we cherish are not merely forms of entertainment; they are the silent companions of our lives, revealing the chapters of our journey, the stages of our growth.

In this, we see that the movies we love are not random or trivial. They are the narratives that shape our understanding of the world. The youth, in their naivety and dreams, may find themselves drawn to adventurous tales of glory and triumph—films like Star Wars or Indiana Jones, where heroes rise against the odds and embark on great quests. These films reflect the burning desire for freedom, for possibility, for a world where anything can be achieved. As we grow older, our tastes may shift, and we may find ourselves drawn to films that speak to the complexity of life—stories like The Godfather or Schindler’s List, where the struggles of the human spirit are laid bare. These movies reflect our own growing awareness of the world’s complexity and the gray areas that define our adult lives.

Consider the ancient Greeks, who used theatre to explore the human condition—to reflect not only the world around them but also the depths of their own souls. The playwrights, such as Sophocles and Euripides, wrote plays that were mirrors to the people of their time, reflecting the values, the conflicts, and the inner struggles that shaped Greek society. When people attended these plays, they saw not just the actors on stage, but themselves—their own fears, their own desires, and their own questions about fate, morality, and love. In the same way, the movies we love at any given time serve as mirrors, offering us a glimpse into who we are at that particular moment in our lives.

Let us reflect on the life of James Dean, whose films like Rebel Without a Cause captured the hearts of a generation of young people who felt alienated, misunderstood, and disillusioned by the world around them. In those films, they saw their own inner turmoil reflected in Dean’s intense portrayal of youthful rebellion. The movies he loved, and that the world loved in return, became a symbol of a time and a generation—an era where the longing for independence and meaning defined the culture. James Dean’s success lay not in his ability to merely act, but in his ability to channel the spirit of his generation into the screen, reflecting their deepest longings and doubts.

Similarly, think of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, where her performance became a symbol of elegance and longing. The audience watching that film in the 1960s saw in Hepburn not just a glamorous actress, but a reflection of their own desire for love, freedom, and self-realization. The movies we love, the stories that captivate us, often reveal the wounds we seek to heal, the dreams we hope to realize, and the truths we are only beginning to understand. Each film, each character, speaks to a moment in our lives, shedding light on the struggles and aspirations that define us at that time.

Schmich’s words also suggest that the films we are drawn to can help us discover who we were at a certain point in our lives, and by revisiting them, we can trace our own growth. A person who loved the escapism of superhero films as a child may later find themselves drawn to more introspective films as an adult, reflecting a shift in their own inner landscape. The films we choose to watch, the stories that speak to us, are like markers along the journey of self-discovery. They serve as signposts, guiding us toward a deeper understanding of our own values, beliefs, and emotional landscapes.

Thus, let this wisdom guide you, O seekers of wisdom: recognize that the movies you love are not mere distractions. They are reflections of your soul at different moments in time, windows into the depths of your being. Do not be afraid to reflect on the stories that have shaped you, for in them you may find the clues to who you were and who you are becoming. Embrace the power of art to speak not only to the mind, but to the heart, for in its images and sounds, you may come to understand the very essence of your own journey. The movies you love are the mirrors of your soul—look into them, and you may just discover the story of your own life.