I woke up this morning with my thoughts on the sad news from yesterday. I have been thinking a lot about those we consider heroes, whether it be a parent or partner, pet, philosopher or performer. What is hard to deal with is when these seemingly immortal and incredible people leave us much earlier than expected. How!?
It wasn’t too long ago that I typed up a quick post with lyrics to In The End by Linkin Park.
Time is a valuable thing, watch it fly by as the pendulum swings. Watch it count down to the end of the day the clock ticks life away…
Whenever I think of the word time, or utter it in conversation, my mind heads down the path of this song. In a way it is a healthy reminder that time is not something we can put on hold. We can let it slip by or we can ride that wave as best we can and be as active as possible whilst riding it. One day our feet will lose grip of that surfboard, we all fall into the sea but some travel a big distance before doing so.
When we idolise someone, they seem invincible. Perfect. They can also be taken for granted, as if they have always been around and always will be. When their time runs out and they are no longer around, we see them as human again. Not someone that is perfect but someone with flaws that strived for perfection with incredible effort. To me, a hero dying is like a Spider-Man removing his mask. The human is revealed and instantly relatable. The flaws and imperfections, the illnesses and fears all become visible. I don’t mind my inspirations being human. If anything it motivates me to strive for similar success.
The problem with a high profile death is that we only get a glimpse of their life, the success and the wealth. The suffering isn’t always in silence but out of view. For some, a suicide can be a selfish act. If their Wikipedia page states they are currently touring the world and earn this much from record sales, they must be happy, right? Can we claim to know the lives and the apparent state of mind of a person we have never met? Of course not. To assume would be incredibly arrogant.
My family has been affected on more than one occasion by depression and suicide. Maybe this is why cries of selfishness are so offensive to me. I know the daily struggle that can last years and the instant opinions from complete strangers that form conclusions with 100% conviction. It is much more respectable to admit we cannot know the mind of another person than to be so wrong whilst believing we are so right.
The comforting aspect for me is that no one ever dissapears. They are always here, the cells are no longer assembled in the way they were to create such art, but they flow by us everyday. That I find truly mind blowing.