Thinky Thoughts: Dean's Wonderful Life
What does your heart desire?
Dean and his heart, Dean and his desire... these have been thorny issues in the past, and fodder for much drama.
The guilt in his heart he felt over killing Sam's friend Amy Pond almost exposed him -- and almost killed him -- in "Defending Your Life."
Amara manifested as his heart's desire in "Love Hurts," exposing truths that were painful to him, but more than understandable to Sam.
A siren came to Dean not in the guise of a beautiful woman, but as a trusted brother in "Sex and Violence."
Even as far back as "What Is And What Shall Never Be," Dean couldn't dream up a world where he could shed his burdens and be happy with his life.
The old Dean kept his truth tightly under wraps, hidden at times even from himself.
These days, though, our Dean is more open, more forgiving of himself... and we've never seen that like we see it in "Lebanon" -- the 300th episode of Supernatural.
The brothers come into the possession of a magical pearl that grants your heart's desire, and the plan is clear: Dean should wish away Michael from inside his mind.
Apparently, Dean wished with his mind, but the pearl read what was in his heart. And John Winchester appears.
I had major problems with this episode the first time I watched it. But on rewatching, I focused particularly on the emotions radiating from each character, and paid specific attention to what each was saying and thinking. Doing so revealed a richness, a layered quality to the episode that I hadn't appreciated at first.
I've written and talked extensively about how food is not just food to Dean, nor is sex just sex. His quest has always been for comfort (see my post about Comfort Quest), and his ordeal with Michael seems to be bringing out his craving for it -- or maybe he's just plain out of the energy it takes to hide or sublimate what he needs.
Right now, it's all about John, Mary, Sam and one family dinner. And it's about so very much more.
But there's always a punishing price to pay for our dear, sweet boy when he wants something, isn't there? When Dean and Sam head into town for groceries so Mary can whip up Winchester Surprise, that cost becomes apparent.
Here, echoes abound to the story of George Bailey in "It's a Wonderful Life."
In a world where John disappeared from 2003, Sam never left Stanford. In sort of a cynical mash-up of 2019 tropes, he's an internet-famous, coffee-eschewing, family-hating kale eater who looks like every douche who ever gave a TED Talk.
Dean is still 2003's Dean, never growing past the boy who was locked in his father's footsteps, chopping up fang, forever stuck on the treadmill that is the Family Business.
And Castiel? Well, he may not be an old maid librarian, but he still doesn't know Dean. And without knowing the Winchesters, without tasting free will, he never became more than he was -- just another celestial hit man. A blunt instrument.
There's much to be said about what is accomplished, what is realized, what is healed when John returns. For John. For Mary. For Sam. But we're sticking for now with Dean, his life, what it all has meant. John's words to Dean... they finally threw the switch. (If you have love for Dean Winchester in your heart, as I do, it's all you've ever wanted to see.)
And then: What do you do when you don't know what to do? That's right, my soul brother... "We eat."
John speaks directly to me -- to the whole of the SPN fandom, I think -- when he breaks the uneasy silence during dinner.
But he built something, all right. He changed his world. And so has Dean Winchester.
It's almost as if he had to experience his long-held fantasy -- one perfect family dinner -- in order to let it go, to embrace the life he has now.
Maybe this isn't Thinky Thoughts about Dean Winchester and "Lebanon." Maybe it never was going to be. Maybe it's just about what "Lebanon" meant to me, when I fell quiet and let it speak to me.
It's about gratitude. It's about taking what you're handed and making the most of it. About squeezing every drop out of life. About being content with who you've been, and with whatever's yet to come.
Right now? I needed to hear that.
Dean and his heart, Dean and his desire... these have been thorny issues in the past, and fodder for much drama.
The guilt in his heart he felt over killing Sam's friend Amy Pond almost exposed him -- and almost killed him -- in "Defending Your Life."
Amara manifested as his heart's desire in "Love Hurts," exposing truths that were painful to him, but more than understandable to Sam.
A siren came to Dean not in the guise of a beautiful woman, but as a trusted brother in "Sex and Violence."
Even as far back as "What Is And What Shall Never Be," Dean couldn't dream up a world where he could shed his burdens and be happy with his life.
The old Dean kept his truth tightly under wraps, hidden at times even from himself.
These days, though, our Dean is more open, more forgiving of himself... and we've never seen that like we see it in "Lebanon" -- the 300th episode of Supernatural.
The brothers come into the possession of a magical pearl that grants your heart's desire, and the plan is clear: Dean should wish away Michael from inside his mind.
Apparently, Dean wished with his mind, but the pearl read what was in his heart. And John Winchester appears.
I had major problems with this episode the first time I watched it. But on rewatching, I focused particularly on the emotions radiating from each character, and paid specific attention to what each was saying and thinking. Doing so revealed a richness, a layered quality to the episode that I hadn't appreciated at first.
I've written and talked extensively about how food is not just food to Dean, nor is sex just sex. His quest has always been for comfort (see my post about Comfort Quest), and his ordeal with Michael seems to be bringing out his craving for it -- or maybe he's just plain out of the energy it takes to hide or sublimate what he needs.
Right now, it's all about John, Mary, Sam and one family dinner. And it's about so very much more.
But there's always a punishing price to pay for our dear, sweet boy when he wants something, isn't there? When Dean and Sam head into town for groceries so Mary can whip up Winchester Surprise, that cost becomes apparent.
Here, echoes abound to the story of George Bailey in "It's a Wonderful Life."
In a world where John disappeared from 2003, Sam never left Stanford. In sort of a cynical mash-up of 2019 tropes, he's an internet-famous, coffee-eschewing, family-hating kale eater who looks like every douche who ever gave a TED Talk.
Dean is still 2003's Dean, never growing past the boy who was locked in his father's footsteps, chopping up fang, forever stuck on the treadmill that is the Family Business.
And Castiel? Well, he may not be an old maid librarian, but he still doesn't know Dean. And without knowing the Winchesters, without tasting free will, he never became more than he was -- just another celestial hit man. A blunt instrument.
There's much to be said about what is accomplished, what is realized, what is healed when John returns. For John. For Mary. For Sam. But we're sticking for now with Dean, his life, what it all has meant. John's words to Dean... they finally threw the switch. (If you have love for Dean Winchester in your heart, as I do, it's all you've ever wanted to see.)
"My fight. It was supposed to end with me, with Yellow Eyes. But now you – you are a grown man, and I am incredibly proud of you. I guess that I had hoped, eventually, you would get yourself a normal life, a peaceful life, a family."
And then: What do you do when you don't know what to do? That's right, my soul brother... "We eat."
John speaks directly to me -- to the whole of the SPN fandom, I think -- when he breaks the uneasy silence during dinner.
"Near as I can tell, we have two choices. All right? We can think about what’s coming. Or we can be grateful for this time that we have together. Now, me… I choose grateful. So, to whatever brought us together, we owe you one."George Bailey was going to see the world. He was going to build things. He was going to shake the dust of crummy old Bedford Falls off his feet and live out his dreams. Through circumstances he didn't choose, and couldn't change, he never left.
But he built something, all right. He changed his world. And so has Dean Winchester.
It's almost as if he had to experience his long-held fantasy -- one perfect family dinner -- in order to let it go, to embrace the life he has now.
Maybe this isn't Thinky Thoughts about Dean Winchester and "Lebanon." Maybe it never was going to be. Maybe it's just about what "Lebanon" meant to me, when I fell quiet and let it speak to me.
It's about gratitude. It's about taking what you're handed and making the most of it. About squeezing every drop out of life. About being content with who you've been, and with whatever's yet to come.
Right now? I needed to hear that.
It's always so clear when you write it out for me. I read it and say, "Yeah, what she said," over and over in my head. Great thinky-thoughts on the man I love so, so much <3
ReplyDeleteOne of the best parts of "Lebanon" was definitely Dean's verbal acceptance of himself and of his life. He deserves to feel solid. He's a damn hero. Seeing him look past the heaps of self-deprecation makes my heart glow.
ReplyDelete