This is so moving. I share your exact beliefs about the miraculousness of our lives, without the need for religiosity. I didn’t know Bruce, but I wish everyone could understand they are valuable.
God bless Bruce. Thank you for sharing. May I request you to write, if you deem fit, what if he had lived if his friends would have sensed his needs and flailing, and how he would have paid them back?
It's always impossible to predict what might have happened. But I do wish he had felt able to be open about his situation and to accept his friends' help (which I'm sure would have been offered).
On one hand, the rise of “professionalism” in the arts, which means you deliver a commodifiable product that has values that buyers will want on a commodifiable basis, and of broadcasting and publishing, as how we think the arts out to be done, have given us a lot of access to a lot of great creation. But they’ve done a lot of damage to art being a language that we all share. And they made a lot of people “failures” who are nothing of the kind. I am so sorry for your friend’s having internalized that, and for that having been part of why he died. The arts are one of the ways we love one another and love the world around us. To be able to call yourself a failure because your art isn’t broadcast or published widely enough for you to make a living at it is a sickness.
Thank you, Iona, for this contemplative and open share about your friend, Bruce, taking his own life. Your words painted a picture of a lovely bloke that made me smile. The reflections that ring true – that I will strive to keep in mind – included your vow to take the risk of listening a little more, reflecting on the miracle of life and our sentient life, and especially you writing, ‘the most worthwhile thing we can do is to make others happy’, ‘Our worth lies in how much we can contribute’ to that end, and ‘We must be each other's afterlife. We must be each other’s heaven’. Beautifully expressed. What a way to enrich our lives and that of others. Every day, there are those seemingly unremarkable yet sliding-door moments where there is an opportunity to take this ‘risk’ and open up new possibilities. Thanks again.
Each time that a history like this appears, I feel I crumble inside remembering my friend.
She had several suicide attempts, I think me and my wife perhaps avoided a bunch giving her a friendly ear and time and love.
One day we lost contact with her while she was abroad, and this time she succeed.
Until this very day I feel paradoxically guilty and egotistic because I think I could have made more to avoid her ending, and at the same time think of myself as a self centered monster that didn't respected her decision or her pain.
Iona, as a follower, fellow human, and I guess, a person feeling the same kind of pain, my most sincere condolences and a big hug, because keeping alive the memory of your friend is biggest honour you can have for him.
Thank you, Jorge. I am so sorry to hear about your friend. That sounds very tough and your response is understandable. But please try not to blame yourself but to remember her with love and use the experience to inspire you towards compassion—and compassion must include compassion towards your past self.
Thank you for soldiering through six years to carve this out today. If we live long enough, we’ll all probably know someone who takes his own life. You give comfort. I hope you can take some, too.
Thank you so much! It's actually a reposting of an earlier piece I wrote closer to the time and published elsewhere. (I alternate here between new pieces and pieces from my archives.) But I thought it was worth presenting to a new audience, as a good reminder. I do take comfort from Bruce's life and I don't resent his death anymore.
Yeah (Theo here), I kinda knew it was a re-post, and you’ve said that you alternate pieces. That’s a great, rich way, to present. I’m so glad you don’t resent his death. Our Wisconsin friend, age 65, still seems to quake over her father’s suicide when she was 16. Not that you don’t, too.
To be honest, I don't quake over it. When I remember Bruce, my feelings are overwhelmingly positive (even though I often cry). It's mostly at this time of year that he's on my mind. I'm so sorry to hear of your friend's father's suicide. That must have been devastating. I hope his memory is a blessing to her.
This is so moving. I share your exact beliefs about the miraculousness of our lives, without the need for religiosity. I didn’t know Bruce, but I wish everyone could understand they are valuable.
Thank you, Erin! ❤️
God bless Bruce. Thank you for sharing. May I request you to write, if you deem fit, what if he had lived if his friends would have sensed his needs and flailing, and how he would have paid them back?
It's always impossible to predict what might have happened. But I do wish he had felt able to be open about his situation and to accept his friends' help (which I'm sure would have been offered).
Thank you for sharing this story and your hard-won wisdom.
My pleasure, Frederick.
What a beautiful tribute Iona. And thank you for the reminders.
My pleasure, Louise. Thank you for reading.
On one hand, the rise of “professionalism” in the arts, which means you deliver a commodifiable product that has values that buyers will want on a commodifiable basis, and of broadcasting and publishing, as how we think the arts out to be done, have given us a lot of access to a lot of great creation. But they’ve done a lot of damage to art being a language that we all share. And they made a lot of people “failures” who are nothing of the kind. I am so sorry for your friend’s having internalized that, and for that having been part of why he died. The arts are one of the ways we love one another and love the world around us. To be able to call yourself a failure because your art isn’t broadcast or published widely enough for you to make a living at it is a sickness.
As so often, you express it perfectly, Nat.
Thank you, Iona, for this contemplative and open share about your friend, Bruce, taking his own life. Your words painted a picture of a lovely bloke that made me smile. The reflections that ring true – that I will strive to keep in mind – included your vow to take the risk of listening a little more, reflecting on the miracle of life and our sentient life, and especially you writing, ‘the most worthwhile thing we can do is to make others happy’, ‘Our worth lies in how much we can contribute’ to that end, and ‘We must be each other's afterlife. We must be each other’s heaven’. Beautifully expressed. What a way to enrich our lives and that of others. Every day, there are those seemingly unremarkable yet sliding-door moments where there is an opportunity to take this ‘risk’ and open up new possibilities. Thanks again.
Each time that a history like this appears, I feel I crumble inside remembering my friend.
She had several suicide attempts, I think me and my wife perhaps avoided a bunch giving her a friendly ear and time and love.
One day we lost contact with her while she was abroad, and this time she succeed.
Until this very day I feel paradoxically guilty and egotistic because I think I could have made more to avoid her ending, and at the same time think of myself as a self centered monster that didn't respected her decision or her pain.
Iona, as a follower, fellow human, and I guess, a person feeling the same kind of pain, my most sincere condolences and a big hug, because keeping alive the memory of your friend is biggest honour you can have for him.
Thank you, Jorge. I am so sorry to hear about your friend. That sounds very tough and your response is understandable. But please try not to blame yourself but to remember her with love and use the experience to inspire you towards compassion—and compassion must include compassion towards your past self.
Thank you for soldiering through six years to carve this out today. If we live long enough, we’ll all probably know someone who takes his own life. You give comfort. I hope you can take some, too.
Thank you so much! It's actually a reposting of an earlier piece I wrote closer to the time and published elsewhere. (I alternate here between new pieces and pieces from my archives.) But I thought it was worth presenting to a new audience, as a good reminder. I do take comfort from Bruce's life and I don't resent his death anymore.
Yeah (Theo here), I kinda knew it was a re-post, and you’ve said that you alternate pieces. That’s a great, rich way, to present. I’m so glad you don’t resent his death. Our Wisconsin friend, age 65, still seems to quake over her father’s suicide when she was 16. Not that you don’t, too.
To be honest, I don't quake over it. When I remember Bruce, my feelings are overwhelmingly positive (even though I often cry). It's mostly at this time of year that he's on my mind. I'm so sorry to hear of your friend's father's suicide. That must have been devastating. I hope his memory is a blessing to her.
Thank you Iona
My pleasure, Robert.
Thanks Iona for the beautiful words
My pleasure, Gabija!
Beautiful words Iona. Sorry for your loss.
Thank you, Ari.