Maybe it is because I had my own encounter with cancer at what felt like a young age, I have been aware of the fragility of life. Maybe fragility is not a very good word, because it conjures up a very fine piece of glass or something. The human body is anything but that. In fact, I am amazed at the general adaptability, recoverability and general orneriness that characterize most of us. We know we are mortal, but usually don’t give it much thought until we get old or something happens.
By the time you get to my age, usually death has been
experienced quite a few times. I have
been through it with parents, with a brother and with friends. For decades I have been involved with
Cancer’s I Can Cope series. And I have
been involved for a long time with Hospice programs. Every time I have to deal with death, it
reminds me of my own mortality
To be aware of our mortality is not morbid. It is a natural part of life. Writing those words is easy. Understanding, appreciating and coming to
terms with the truth of those words is not so easy. Maybe that is why I developed an interest in
spirituality. Clearly it is one way
humans of old have understood life and death.
I hope I have begun to figure out my own perspective.
In most cases the death of someone causes sadness. Hopefully, there are very few human beings
whose death would not cause some sadness.
In a sick way I assume there were even some folks who were quite sad at Hitler’s
death! Sadness is an expression of
care. I am confident there are enough
who care about me, that when my demise comes, there will be some sadness.
When famous people die, there is obviously a much bigger
stage for sadness and mourning. Again I
have witnessed it countless times. When
J.F. Kennedy was shot, sadness took a national and international stage. More recently, Robin Williams’ death hit the
news with a shock. Because this death
was a suicide, the sadness was compounded with shock. Humans are mortal, but when the mortality is
hastened by one’s own hand, that significantly complicates things.
I am not a big movie person, so famous people like Williams
sometimes are unknown to me. However, I
did know about him and was sad, too, at the loss of a person who brought so
much laughter and joy to people. The
world needs far more of these kinds of people.
Rather than head down the psychological analytical route of Williams’
death, I thought back to the movie with which I most associate with him.
When I think of Robin Williams, I think of Dead Poets Society. This 1989 film raised interesting questions
which I found applicable in my own teaching.
I am not sure when I used the book/movie in class, but I thumbed through
my copy as I thought about the superb acting Williams did in the film. I had many passages underlined, but want to
share just one of those.
The passage comes from a scene in John Keating’s English
class (Keating played by Williams. One
of the members of the Dead Poets Society began to read one of his poems. Quickly, he becomes embarrassed and sits down. Keating stands in front of the class and
speaks. “What Knox has done…demonstrates
an important point, not in in writing poetry, but in every endeavor. That is, deal with the important things in
life---love, beauty, truth, justice.”
Those words alone would be worth pondering.
But I want to add the next few lines. Keating continues. “And don’t limit poetry to the word. Poetry can be found in music, a photograph,
in the way a meal is prepared---anything
with the stuff of revelation in it. It
can exist in the most everyday things but it must never, never be ordinary. By all means, write about the sky or a girl’s
smile, but when you do, let your poetry conjure up salvation day, doomsday, any
day. I don’t care, as long as it
enlightens us, thrills us and---if it’s inspired---makes us feel a bit
immortal.”
Words like these don’t call for a commentary. I can claim I know what the words mean, but
that is only to say that I can tell you what they mean to me. It would be interesting to know what, if
anything, they meant to Robin Williams in 1989 when the film called for him to
speak those words. Of course, I did not
know Robin Williams. In my mind he will
always be John Keating, the guru of the Dead Poets Society in a staid prep
school in Vermont.
When Williams dies---or anyone, for that matter---there is
requisite sadness. But sadness can be
transformed if those of us yet living can take to heart the truth of the words
in the movie. I want to find the people and things in my life with the stuff of
revelation in it. What can I do today
and tomorrow, if it is given to me, to become a poet of life?
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