If you are stressed picture this: You are standing in field of your favorite flowers. The sunlight is warm upon you face, dancing across your cheeks with soft fingers of warmth, as the wind gently nips at your nose with a cool breeze. The ground beneath you is plush with new grass and it tickles your toes as you stand, still and silent, listening to the harmonious sound of several song birds while they sing their nightly lullabies. In the distance, the faint hum of cicadas can be heard beckoning the call of a sunset drenched evening, painted with deep hues of amber and gold. Calm washes over you. It fills your body and soul, your muscles relax, and you lazily sink to the ground. Reaching above you, your hands find the softest pillow you have ever felt. With ease you gently slide the pillow beneath your head. It smells of vanilla. It’s sweet scent reminds me you of pleasant memories. You close your eyes, eyelashes fluttering like the wisps of shooting stars trailing above you. Taking in a deep breath, lavender fills yours lungs. The sweet perfume of flowers around you hold you with comfort. Finally you feel peaceful and no longer stressed. You fall asleep and wake up to the fresh morning of a new spring day, soft with light, and boundless with new adventures waiting for you.
I really love the timing of Kylo Ren’s outbursts. They don’t come when things go wrong. Most of the time, he maintains a rather calm demeanor. At one point, he even taunts General Hux that a clone army would be better. His outbursts happen when he gives into his own weakness.
BB-8 escapes Jakku. He doesn’t bring out his saber until the messenger reveals that it was Finn who helped the droid. FN-2187. The same stormtrooper who he saw in the village. The stormtrooper who Kylo knew wasn’t behaving the way he was supposed to. The stormtrooper he could’ve had killed or sent away or done a number of things to. But instead, he let his suspicions go and gave FN-2187 another chance under Captain Phasma.
Rey escapes her imprisonment. He knows it’s entirely his fault. Leaving a single stormtrooper to guard over someone strong in the Force? He could’ve knocked her out, done something to her legs so she couldn’t have moved, left droids to torture the information out of her. But he left her as ‘his guest.’ Restrained but unharmed with someone nearby to help/guard/move her in case something went wrong.
He doesn’t lash out because he’s angry at others. He lashes out because he’s angry at himself. Because he failed. Because he was weak. Again. Because, despite his desperation to be like Darth Vader, he is still being swayed by the light within himself. And it’s breaking him apart.
“Am I up next?” Jyn asked. She laughed caustically as she guessed why Mothma had approached. “You here to prompt me?” There had to be versions of Jyn’s story that Mon Mothma, chief of state of the Rebel Alliance, wanted told—and others she wanted silenced. But Mothma shook her head. “No. I wanted to say…” Her gaze held on Jyn’s face as she searched for words. Jyn thought through all the trite, meaningless statements the woman might make: I’m sorry for your loss. The Rebellion is proud of you. Good luck with the crowd. “I won’t forget what we did to you,” Mothma said. Jyn stared and tried to comprehend the sadness in her voice.