i thought it was probably inevitable.
that i would touch on the death of robin williams in this week’s blog post.
after all, i was a counselor before i became a coach.
depression and suicide were words i encountered often while on the job.
i had a lot of mixed feelings about this subject though.
how could i best approach it, best explore it?
should i use those visceral, raw, quickly scrawled words?
the ones i jotted down right away when i heard the news?
the response to his passing has been phenomenal.
many have been left stunned, saddened, seeking.
in the past few days, i have read several accounts of the aftermath.
about the repercussions of this well-loved celebrity’s death.
about the confusion and the bewilderment it has brought to the surface.
about the many other bleak emotions it has conjured up.
about the controversies it has stirred.
by people who admired and adored him.
by people who have lost family members and friends to suicide.
by people who have struggled with or are continuing to struggle with depression.
by people who knew him well and by those who had never met him.
everyone expressing their opinions,
voicing their impressions,
attempting to make a tiny bit of sense out of mr. williams’s final act.
one eloquent article i read mentioned being a spectator to grief.
wondering if it was okay to mourn someone you had never met.
she decided that, yes – it was okay.
that if you didn’t allow an outlet for your natural reactions,
you would be denying the effect that person had on your life.
with that in mind, i decided to go ahead and share my immediate thoughts.
why do i feel so sad, so thrown, by his death?
perhaps because he always reminded me so much of my brother?
or maybe it’s because “dead poets society” had such a huge impact on my life?
i’m crying and i didn’t even know him.
but he seemed so kind, so approachable, so real.
and if someone who could find humor in everything (and in nothing at all)
cannot bear to live,
what does that mean for the rest of us?
what demons was he fighting?
how did he keep laughing and continue making us laugh?
i’ve heard that comedians crack jokes to mask the pain.
how long did he hurt?
goodnight, mr. williams.
you brought me joy.
robin williams wasn’t perfect.
he was a human being with a complicated and complex history.
like most individuals.
as a well-known actor and comedian, we felt we knew him though.
and we liked him.
a lot.
i am always telling my clients to FEEL their emotions.
to let them bubble up and be realized.
to sit with them and let them guide the way.
then to begin unraveling the lessons they are trying to impart.
so i did just that.
i let the tears flow as i thought about this man’s brilliance.
and the many smiles he’s given the world.
another writer reminded us that he had a choice.
yes, he had a choice.
and he chose to end his life.
but i don’t think it’s ever quite as simple as that.
i remember the severely anguished look on the face of one young man,
that haunts me to this day.
he was admitted to the unit i worked in at the hospital.
i was close enough to see the searing pain expressed silently but vividly.
and to feel, actually feel, the hopelessness he radiated.
he ending up taking his own life a short time later.
his pain overwhelmed him, became unmanageable, unbearable.
and, in his desolation, he saw no other way out.
now, when i hear about someone committing suicide,
my mind goes back to that teenager.
to those staring but unseeing eyes.
the high school hockey player whose family loved him desperately.
and i remember the way he seemed to look right through me,
when i had tried to engage him.
his passing affected me deeply,
as a clinician and as a fellow human being.
his handsome but deeply troubled face remains with me to this day.
so why has robin williams prompted so many articles, blog posts, tweets?
because he was larger than life,
and provided so much well-needed lightheartedness.
but also because he was real,
and proved that we are all human.
there is that element of juxtaposition as well.
that oxymoron that niggles at us all.
a comedian who committed suicide.
that paradox doesn’t fit into our schema of existence.
if he could create such happiness for others, then why couldn’t he be happy?
it’s a question to which we will never receive an answer.
what an inspiration robin williams was to us.
his talent and comedic genius gave us hope.
but we lost a little of that hope when he didn’t come through for us.
when the goods weren’t delivered in the way we expected.
we will never know the entire story of his depression and eventual suicide.
we do know that we are experiencing a huge loss.
goodnight, mr. williams.
you brought us joy.
it is time to regain our hope.
time to embrace and explore and reclaim our own story.
time to conquer more fears than we ever thought possible,
time to lift ourselves from despair,
time to fight until the veil of darkness is lifted.
we can and we must.
i’ve had two periods of melancholy in my life.
once as a teenager, when i entertained self-destructive thoughts.
and again much later,
when the fog of grief over my mom’s death was replaced with the new reality.
i didn’t personally refer to those seasons as depressive.
but they were the lowest lows i can imagine.
our lives in between our births and our deaths are rife with
excitement and suffering, elation and sorrow,
delight and sadness, success and failure,
determination and defeat, calm and chaos.
everyone responds to their helping of these ingredients differently.
according to the measurements of each,
and the temperament and makeup of each individual personality.
no one, no matter how well meaning,
can totally understand the depth or the direction of another’s feelings or responses.
but we can try.
we can try to listen,
try to support,
try to comprehend and appreciate another’s unique take on the world.
i often speak of eleventh hour illumination with my clients.
when it feels as if all may be lost, as if nothing else can be done,
know it’s not over.
know you can still see the light late in the day,
even at the last minute,
at a point in time which is nearly-but-not-totally too late.
it occurs, over and over again.
and how magical, how life-affirming, how concept-changing it is.
i miss that tender young soul who was hurting so badly,
he graced me with a glimpse of his too-short story.
i only wish he could have found the light beyond the depths of his shadows.
death.
silence.
the final farewell.
there is no turning back.
however, i do believe . . .
there is always hope as long as we’re still breathing.
i think that bears repeating.
there is always hope as long as we’re still breathing.
so breathe.
hope.
live.
robin williams, as john keating in “dead poets society”, said it so well:
carpe diem.
seize the day.
make your lives extraordinary.
and when quoting walt whitman:
that you are here—that life exists and identity,
that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.
what will your verse be?
goodnight, mr. williams.
you brought me joy.
you brought us joy.
how will YOU make your life extraordinary?
what will YOUR verse be?
i leave you today with a poignant visual, photographed in 2009: robin williams crying
[this link will take you to another site. i’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments before you leave.]
SO many gems in this post … two stood out for me:
“in his desolation, he saw no other way out” and “it’s time to embrace and explore and reclaim our own story.”
So often, we feel alone because we are afraid to embrace our true self, because we are afraid to stand out proudly in spite of our perceived ‘failures’.
I always find it fascinating how particular individuals leave a lasting impression, make their mark, on our lives without even knowing it…and then when those individuals are suddenly gone, there is a longing to understand why they couldn’t stand in or acknowledge their own quiet brilliance. Too many beautiful and touching points made to touch on April, but perhaps those of us who understand darkness the most, find these acts heartbreaking and tragic on a deeper or different level. Here’s to healing…to breathe, to hope, to live! I will rest in this verse today 🙂
In the years since my brother John’s suicide, the most heartbreaking result has been the erasing of his accomplishments. It goes like this: “I have 2 brothers. One’s a doctor and the other was a writer, but he’s passed away.” “O really. What happened to him?” Next time: “I have 1 brother.” John had his master’s in English Lit, wrote for magazines, edited newspapers and books, ran a successful tutoring agency long before the internet. Sadly, no matter how brilliant and funny Robin Williams may have been, he will forever be known as someone who, in a world where most everyone fights tooth and nail to survive, to stay alive, he chose not to.
Yes, Robin Williams did bring us joy. He will be sadly missed on earth but he has a new audience now. May his family find peace in their grief.
April, As we all know, Robin William’s was a master at touching millions of lives with his talents…so it comes as no surprise that he did so with his death too. Maybe it was to demonstrate to us that success – regardless at how grand – doesn’t heal a broken Spirit and his death begs us to look at that. You have so many beautiful messages in this post, but the one that most speaks to me is,
“and if someone who could find humor in everything (and in nothing at all)cannot bear to live,
what does that mean for the rest of us?”
Maybe that was the purpose, for us to look at our own pain…so it can be healed while we’re still breathing….
April. What a moving and beautiful blog post. What you do for your clients – to allow them to feel what they need to feel – is a lesson we can all take from you and from Robin William’s death. He was always vocal about his challenges and to be true, most artists face the same kinds of demons. I think most non-artists do too. It’s taken a long time for me to learn that emotions are A-OK and that we should feel them.
Thank you for your candor and this post.
The irony is that Robin chose to release himself from his emotional pain by ending his life. And in that moment, he has ignited the pain of loss in his family members, friends, colleagues and fans. I have always said that death is hardest on the living.
Beautiful April.
Sadness . Anger . Hope.
Sadness – I remember him since Mork & Mindy when I fell in love with his talent then… and many times over every time I would seem him in a movie or interview. It’s just sad.
Anger – This is someone who ‘made’ it, professionally and financially, in a field where 99% of actors do not. This makes me mad that he took this for granted as he was a role model to so many that would give anything to be in his position – yet I can’t judge him, I don’t know what he was going through.
Hope – I love your words – there is still hope as long as you’re still breathing. Maybe this will be a lesson to someone, to keep breathing, that this too shall pass.
And I’m back to sadness. I had tears too – though I had never met him I felt that he was a part of my life through the years also…. he made me laugh and laugh.
With love & compassion for his light and genius!! He will be missed!! TY for honoring him, April
beautifully written with heart felt compassion and understanding. Thank you for sharing your insights – the paradoxes and analogies are profound. There are lots of lessons to be drawn from a life ended too quickly. Love and compassion to all 🙂
I have never been impacted by a celebrity’s death like this. In fact, I usually dislike all the attention they get because I see all human beings as important and valuable and impactful, but the “non-celebrity” types of people don’t get that attention. However, with Robin it’s different. I’ve been hugely affected by his death. I’ve been processing things along with the rest of the world, thinking about him, watching his movies, reading and sharing quotes, viewing video clips, laughing, feeling sad, asking questions, pondering life. A few things are clear. We can’t judge. At all. Anyone. For anything. We don’t know what others are going through. And we need to share the amazing, beautiful gifts that we have with the world. Look at the affect Robin Williams’ gift had on so many people. Could you imagine if he had kept it hidden? What talent, versatility, hilarity, joy, laughter, depth and emotion would have been left unknown? Absolutely, “What will your voice be?”
April, Your words of compassion, loss, and hope offer comfort with my own memories of being with others in the eleventh hour. Walking the hills until my tears stopped flowing, holding another close, following my breath led me back after my heart was pierced. I bow to Life and you.
Beautiful tribute to a man that we all seemed to feel close to even though we didn’t know him personally. His death touched us all in some way.
I love your quote about there being hope as long as we are breathing. I’ve suffered from depression in the past, dark, overwhelming depression that completely blacks out hope from my view. And I’ve come out the other end.
I hope if I ever return to that place of darkness, I’ll remember your words and hold on to them until I get out again.
Thank you.
Valerie
This is beautiful, April. I think you’re saying what so many of us have thought: why do I feel so strongly for someone I haven’t met. I love how you explain that we should allow ourselves to feel our natural emotions without judgement. Great advice.
For me, I see Robin Williams as a man who had his finger on the pulse of the world. He saw much, felt deeply, expressed eloquently. But to be a sensitive, in this crazy world, is indeed a large task, and a difficult one to navigate.
Your post is so beautifully written, like the man you are writing about, it journeys deep into the soul of being a human being.
I loved Robin williams, because he made me laugh. He made me think. He made me feel more human. And for me, that’s how I will make my life extraordinary . . . His presence brought that more into life for me. Blessed be, Mr Robin. So glad you were here for a time. So grateful I had some moments with you on screen. Thank you for making me laugh and be so in awe to your genius.
And thank you April…for this post. xoox
Such a profound loss. Beautiful tribute, April.
Such a wonderfully written post. One that flows with beauty, yet inspires thought.
I can’t even begin to imagine the feelings one must feel before they take their own life, what kind of hopelessness. How someone who brought so many people joy would walk that path. Reading this I am grateful, I may not be famous, I may not have all of the money in the world, but I have joy in my life. Joy and happiness which money cannot buy, which another can not give, it is within. I wish you joy and peace. Thank you for sharing this.
April, what a beautiful tribute to very funny man and gentle kind soul that touche us all. I too was very touched by his death and the circumstances surrounding it. I love how you focused on the human experience of it all. I love you honoring by recalling the young man you met in the ER years ago. I especially love what you wrote: “know you can still see the light late in the day,even at the last minute,at a point in time which is nearly-but-not-totally too late.” Even at the last minute. xo