Along with others, I was deeply saddened by the suicide of TWitch (Stephen Boss). I had followed this young man’s career from his beginning on the dance competition show, “So, You Think You Can Dance” through to his DJ and executive producer position on the “Ellen Show”. He seemed to have it all. He had a charismatic personality, a lucrative career, a beautiful wife and three children, and a star that just kept rising. But obviously he still wasn’t happy enough to want to keep on living. I’ve known how that feels.
I consider myself to be a successful person, too, having worked hard to overcome discrimination and childhood trauma. I have a lovely family, I’m educated, I enjoyed a fulfilling career and I’m financially stable enough to allow me to travel and pursue my passions. My passion has always been to help alleviate human suffering and to help secure social justice for humanity. I’m highly empathetic, deeply feeling the emotional and even physical pain of others. Experiencing sympathy pains was such a frequent occurrence during my adolescence that my mother strongly advised me against pursuing a career in medicine. I’ve never been able to sit by and watch people suffer. So, I’ve spent my entire life fighting against suffering and injustice, worrying about these things, warning and protecting loved ones to avoid danger, and praying about these things.
However, in these last few years it’s been really tough to watch humanity spiral toward hate-fueled destruction of everything I hold dear. The bad actors seem to be gaining ground and hurting more people while so called “Christian evangelicals” are actively working to roll back gains in social justice. And so, while taking our daily walk last week, I found myself confessing to my husband that I’m discouraged by the growing lack of human decency and outright human inhumanity to other humans and the planet. I confessed that if given the choice of whether or not to return to this earth to live another life, I would choose not to. I told him that the only reason I was still here was because of the people I love. I couldn’t hurt him or the children and so I live on and press on.
As the tears flowed down my cheeks, taking him by complete surprise, I confessed that I really needed to ride around the neighborhood at night to see the Christmas lights. I explained that those lights and decorations people put up are expressions of kindness to others. They are meant to feed the soul and I really needed to see them right now. I explained that Christmas lights aren’t put up for the enjoyment of the people inside the home, but for others to see and enjoy. I told him that I really needed to see that right now to feel that there were positive humans in the world. As I was expressing this sentiment, a couple with a home nicely decorated for the holidays, was moving towards their vehicle, apparently on their way to work. I stopped walking, turned to them, and said, “Thank you for decorating your home for Christmas. It really means a lot to me to see your decorations.” They simply smiled and I think my husband thought I had truly lost my mind.
The following week, despite all my prayers, personal tragedy struck our family and I felt yet another wave of discouragement and anguish over life on earth. I had begun painting as a therapeutic measure from the previous week. And so, I just redoubled my painting efforts. I painted nearly all day, every day for about 10 days. I know my husband was worried about me because the only thing worse than seeing the world in turmoil was to see my children in pain. And they were in pain over this unexpected loss. And so was I. I moved quickly from disbelief, to sorrow, to anger at the universe.
On another morning walk a couple of days ago, I reassured my husband that I understood and accepted that life was a mixed bag and that I couldn’t pray myself nor family members out of experiencing the random meteors that strike our lives. I admitted that I thought the universe was just as “mean” as it was generous and that I had to accept that. I explained to him that I had enough joy in life to keep me here and that I knew I had to expect the ugly, the awful, and the painful just as much as I accepted the beauty, the gains, and the lucky breaks. I was thankful that the universe provided the beauty of flowers and trees, delicious foods, creativity in the arts, technological innovation, and the comfort and support of family and friends. With the cruelty came comfort in these things like Christmas lights. They offered me hope for humankind and a restoration of my soul, if I looked for them.
My bout of discouragement ended as I realized that although the universe is cruel and random in its distribution of destruction, I can choose how to respond to it. I’m not clinically depressed, so I can choose to not give in to bitterness, hopelessness, anger, nor resentment. But many are clinically depressed and need to seek help from a mental health professional. Whether through medication or talk therapy, depression can be overcome. I’m thankful for the ability to dial 988 in case of a mental health crisis and I’m sad that TWitch wasn’t in the state of mind to access the help he so desperately needed.
That said, I choose to be a person who puts up Christmas lights to remind other humans that there is kindness, joy, and beauty to be found on this earth. I choose to use my voice and my pen to pursuit social justice. I choose to give to those who are in need. I choose to continue to pray and warn of danger. And I now choose to spend a bit more time looking at the Christmas lights for the strength to continue to fight against the negativity than vows to consume us.