I saw Into the Wild last night and I'm still not entirely sure what compels my abiding interest in this story.
It's impossible to watch this movie and not painfully comprehend it is based on the tragic events of a real person. It's callous to not be touched by the idealism, passion, and determined will of Christopher McCandless.
However, it's careless to romanticize his overzealous monasticism. It's foolish to praise the lack of adequate preparation.
A very real part of me understands the overwhelming need for physical and emotional isolation. I, however, cannot commend someone who treks unfamiliar terrain without proper guiding tools and knowledge of available resources.
While I've been lost in thought for much of the past twenty-four hours regarding this story, it reaffirms that which I know best: it is far better to plan every expectation of your trip, even to the utter annoyance of your spouse.
