finnmurdershux:

As you can tell by my url this is my hill to die on and there’s a lot to say but I’m gonna focus on Finn’s use of the Force for #100DaysofFinn

As we watch TFA, we see Rey and Finn move very easily with their emotions. Though Finn lies about his circumstances, he doesn’t ever appear to lie about his emotions. Setting aside for now what a beautiful thing this is for the image of masculinity, it also sets him far apart from both the Jedi and the Sith, making him a sort of new kind of Force user.

The Jedi and the Sith are not that functionally different. Both rely on emotional stunting of one form or another and we have easily seen how this is bad for everyone all the way around. Turns out, denying any part of your personal experience doesn’t tend to lead to well-adjusted individuals!

While Finn has been trained to stunt his emotions, his experience with this demand starts and stops with the First Order. To his knowledge, it doesn’t really span beyond that. Imagine learning that the Sith rely on one emotion. “Well that’s your problem right there.” But then imagine him learning that the Jedi forbid love and connection both romantic and familial. To his understanding of emotion denial, it isn’t a scale with the Jedi on one end the Sith on the other, it’s where he is on one end and the Sith and the Jedi together on the other. There’s no reason for him to feel the need to curtail his emotions after leaving the First Order. Why would he allow the same shit with a different skin when training in the ways of the Force?

No, when Finn begins to train, he isn’t afraid of his emotions. His life has become about reclaiming control of his own self, he’ll be damned if he lets an old cryptid on an island tell him any of his emotions are bad. He knows they aren’t bad if he feels them, acknowledges them, processes them. The denial of the fluidity of his own emotion as a stormtrooper makes him all the more aware of the importance of rolling with emotions as they come.

So imagine that one day he’s out meditating on his own because he’s just. Sad. He’s been overcome with a sense of great loss stronger on that particular day than normal and he tells Luke he needs space. Of course Luke probably tells him that it’s understandable, but a true Jedi doesn’t bend to their emotions like this, and Finn denies the idea that he has to tamp down his emotions to train and just leaves.

Imagine him alone on some cliff, sitting and crying because of this sense of sadness, and finding that the emotional exhaustion of crying is another form of meditation. He realizes that he hasn’t actually watched the waves so much as stared at them distantly. He feels that near disconnect where sadness has created a sort of bubble around him and he realizes he hasn’t been interacting directly the world at all. Rather than be afraid or confused, he embraces the serenity of the moment and lets himself cry and meditate.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s floating quietly above a calm sea. In the distance, the water is still turning, even further out it’s still white-capping. But around him, it’s still and smooth as transparisteel. He doesn’t panic, he’s cried too much and he’s too tired to really give it a care. Gently, he floats back to the cliff and settles back in the high grass, so careful he wonders for a moment if he ever moved.

Imagine another day when Luke has insisted he not carry rage or anger in his heart, that this is the way of the Jedi. Finn knows that that rage served him in fighting Kylo, after watching and hearing Rey hit that tree. He refuses to ever believe that his anger could truly be bad, that it would hurt him if he tried to face it and reason with it. No, he’s sure that the biggest danger will be ignoring how he feels. Luke doesn’t often talk about Vader, but Finn knows. He knows he can’t hide his anger like that.

So he goes off to train by himself for a while. His anger grows as he stews in it, gives him energy. His body moves through poses faster and harder, every change in stance accentuated by that little kick, that little flare of anger. At first, he’s just being stompy (so he thinks), but then Rey comes to train with him and see if he’s okay. And every movement has just a little more power behind it. Every time he dodges her and hops to his feet, the ground shakes just a little. Every swing of his practice saber has a weight behind it that catches Rey off guard. It isn’t until Rey knocks the weapon from his hand and comes for him that they realize what’s happening. His hand extends in the hope he can simply stop her with the flat of his palm, but instead, a wave of power extends with the motion and forces Rey back several steps. Rey is worried but impressed because it isn’t outside his control. It isn’t that much larger than him. The more they spar, the clearer it becomes that he has a sort of aura of force around him, adding a little weight to his every move, tight and controlled and thrumming with power just like his anger.

One day, the sun is shining and Luke gives Finn and Rey the day off to go be kids and be happy. They take a picnic along with them and hike to the sunnier side of the island, watching the porgs and snacking on flavorful food like they’re both still getting used to. It’s such a pure, perfect moment and Finn cannot begin to describe the way his chest feels warm and tight and bright, how happy he is. He sits and soaks in the sun and the joy while Rey runs off chasing a porg with something suspicious in its mouth. When she comes back, her shoulders look wet from fresh rain and Finn wonders just how far she got. As he looks past her, he sees the rain in the distance. They look up and see the clouds are parted just for them, the warmth felt entirely by their own skin. All that gloom and Finn parts the clouds in the very sky with his happiness.

The more little things like this happen, the more Finn is convinced that the trick to be connected to his emotions, to understand how they influence his handling of the Force. He learns there are some things he can’t do when the mood doesn’t match. That serenity over the water only comes with sadness or quiet reflection. The extra power behind his every move only when he’s angry. Giant rocks and cargo boxes are lightest when he sees the smile on Rey’s face, more so when he knows he put that smile there. Luke is worried that this is a lack of control on Finn’s part, but Finn understands a truth Luke can’t quite grasp yet. The Force isn’t his to control, it’s his to connect with. So why shut down those connections anywhere they occur? No. Finn is the balance the Force needs, the understanding that it is a resource he can use and manuver, not a power that controls him.