“Let death be what takes us, not a lack of imagination”— BJ Miller
I watched BJ Miller’s astounding TED talk “What really matters at the end of life” a year ago when I was trapped at my most stuck. Of all the fantastic lessons shared, the thing that really shifted my axis was a passing comment in the middle of another point. He casually said something about the opposite of anesthetic is aesthetic. So obvious, but I had never seen it before.
Our choice is to either seek numbness or beauty.
So I started simply seeking. A color. A gesture. Art. A plant. The light.
Panic called for poetry. Grief meant greenery. Stress meant soft blankets. Depression was the toughest to match. Depression only wants more of itself. More nothing. More scrolling. More words like always, never, only.
Depression sipped anesthesia all day long.
Seeking or seeing the beauty wasn’t enough for that slow, heavy beast. My only way out from underneath it was to make beauty.
Make art. Make dinner. Make the bed. Make love. Make anything at all. Just make it beautiful.
After years on a computer, all of a sudden I was drawing. Painting. Cutting up unfinished sketches and weaving them together. Textiles. Tactile. All of the neglected brushes, charcoals, pens, paints were out. I started writing again. Parts of my heart unlocked.
Grief is still right there, like a cat that gets underfoot and trips me up. But I am surrounded by beauty, so I don’t crawl very far before something catches my eye.
Oh how you refine and dignify the mess of being human with your writing.
Yes! So much yes and thank you!!