A friend of mine posted on Facebook that he was changing his profile photo to the one below, of Robin Williams. I was surprised, because my friend is a pretty happy guy. The photo below just radiates sadness. It made me think, though.
Today, Robin Williams would have turned 64. What a brilliant and loving man, and what a shame he left us so soon. I think he was here to not only make us laugh, but to teach us about love.
When I saw the photo below, I immediately thought it was an omen of his suicide. His eyes are so sad that they are almost vacant. Those are not the eyes of a man who wants to stay here on earth. Like my cousin Chris Thompson -- a friend of Robin's from years ago, who died last month -- he felt it was time to go, and there was no other way.
Sometimes people kill themselves quickly and decisively and sometimes it happens gradually, over a long period of time. I have seen both kinds. I have often wondered what makes the difference in a person's life, what stops them from killing themselves?
All of us have sadness, to some degree. What makes the difference between those of us who choose to check out early, and those who are willing to stick around and keep fighting the good fight?
I don't know, but here is my theory:
Some of us can accept transforming love and some of us cannot.
The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread. ~Mother Teresa
Robin had a lonely childhood, but eventually he was able to channel that pain into creativity and his creativity seemed to help him to be able to give back a lot. After he died it was revealed that he had spent a lot of time doing charitable work. Robin reached out to sick children. He entertained the troops in Iraq and Afghanistan numerous times. He gave and gave and gave.
He practiced loving others.
Was he as skilled at letting others love him? I tend to think not, or he would still be here. That's just a theory.
Accepting Love is a vitally important skill.
One problem I have with a lot of mainstream churches is that they emphasize reading and studying the bible, and they ignore or downplay what is, to me, a much more worthy and important pursuit -- teaching us how to love each other better.
Just as school should teach children how to think and learn, church [or synagogue] should teach them how to love. So often it doesn't, though. So often organized religion is about following rules, memorizing bible verses, acting appropriately. It's neat and conformist.
Love should be dynamic and messy and ambitious. Love should not be safe.
I've seen the effects of neglect and trauma in my children, over and over. Loving is hard for them. Even understanding love is a huge thing for them because it's so associated with loss. How terrifying it must be to love someone when all your past experience has been that the person you love will hurt and abandon you?
In my zeal to reverse the effects of all that darkness, I hug them too much, tell them I love them too much, and generally hover [more so with Michael, obviously]. They are adept at pushing me away when they need to. I refuse to apologize for loving too fiercely, though. My children know they are loved. It's my job just to figure out how to do it right, to teach them to accept my love and other love, to keep the darkness from swallowing them up.
Love is simple and yet not. In a way, it's the most complicated energy in the world. It's the trigonometry of all the emotions.
I try very hard to learn how to love the right way. I fail as often as I succeed. I fail, and I cry, and I pray, and I keep loving. I read everything I can find about how to help heal trauma, most importantly blogs by other adoptive moms.
Despite all my ineptitude, I cling to the hope that I can help my children accept love that transforms them. I don't want them to be unable to let go of their traumatic pasts, and check out early like Robin and Chris. I don't want to ever see the same despair in my kids' eyes as in Robin's eyes in the photo above.
My challenge is to not smother those I love. I ask God for grace and guidance in that regard every.single.day.
So here's my challenge to everyone out there reading this: focus on love as an active verb, as alchemy, as magic, as healing. Read everything you can find about it. Listen to wise people. Google the words "love" and "healing" and just read. Tell everyone you love that you feel that way. Practice being kind even when you want to scream. Focus on the folks in your life that you love the most and pray for guidance. Feel inadequate to the task? Ask God for help.
Don't give up on love. Ever.
Love is a seed. Plant it everywhere you can, and eventually you will grow miracles.
