As we blindly march forward
The other day I stumbled across this woman's blog and as I began to read, her words immediately lured me in.
Her perspective, the way she viewed life, felt eerily familiar. To the point she seemed like my replica. Though a bit older she was also a visual artist, loved to write, take photos, was whim driven and extremely passionate about art. She affirmed everything that I strive for so I couldn't help but get excited.
But just as I was in the throws of deciding whether or not to reach out to her, I made a devastating discovery... she was no longer with us. She had died of cancer a year earlier.
I was horrified. I stared at her words full of determined rhetoric, when life was still ahead of her. At her photos brimming with beauty and emotion. It felt like she was still here, still able to speak to me, touch my heart. And while it made me sad, it was also oddly comforting. I was enlightened to think that even after we die, what we put out into the Universe can live on and continue to touch others in positive and uplifting ways.
As I dug deeper I found even more posts written by her, though this time they were different. They were with renewed perspective, with a pained, cancer riddled edge. No longer was she my replica. She was now in excruciating pain and her passionate aspirations for art had become diluted and pointless. Again, I was horrified. This was now a woman just trying to survive. Her life no longer hers, as if an invisible hand was violently snatching her from this Earth. I was furious. But what about her dreams, her talent, and all that determination?
A visual popped into my head of the human race blindfolded, walking through a Korean minefield (yep, I'm dramatic) and I wondered what good it is to have drive and ambition if one day, BOOM, we're gone? Our future plans torn and scattered in our wake. Why even bother? What's the point?! My brain on a loop I pondered this poor woman's fate. Her life cut short, her inability to fulfill her dreams, her pain and anguish bouncing around my head.
Until eventually my brain crashed.
There's only so long I can freak out about stuff I have no control over. I exhausted myself into realizing how cool it is that this complete stranger effected me at all. She let herself be seen after her death. That alone gave me hope. It made it make sense to keep putting myself out there and to march on, even if blindly. Because whether the point is clear or not the unflinching reality will always be...
One day I too will go BOOM!
Little picture moments. Stories of a Lifetime