Sunday night’s sunset at our local park. Sunsets, and sunrises, of course, occur at the intersection of light and dark. There’s so much beauty in the interstices.
I was, like so many people, shocked and saddened to hear of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain’s suicides. It’s made me think about the way a person who brings tremendous light and joy to the world can be simultaneously filled with darkness. It’s always a balance, and as you know I believe both light and dark exist in every life. This is not only unavoidable, it has profound value: the dark gives the light texture and the contrast is where the interest is.
Many of us have stories of our first Kate Spade purses (and I’ve loved reading some of these in my Facebook feed and in other places). I still carry a wicker Kate Spade clutch very regularly in the summer. Many of us also have tales of Anthony Bourdain. I can personally share that despite not being a foodie in the least, I found Kitchen Confidential 
Saturday was my father’s birthday. He would have been 75. I felt sad and off all day, as I’d anticipated I would. We visited his grave. The four of us went out for dinner. The sky was beautiful. When we got home, I suggested that we watch Dead Poets Society. Other than Whit, we’d all seen it before, but I wanted, suddenly and urgently, to watch it again. As the familiar movie unfolded I thought about why: I know Dad loved the movie, and I also burst into tears when Neil reads the lines from Ulysses that so deeply remind me of my father.
It’s hard to watch Robin Williams’ bravura performance, at least for me, now. The entire film is limned with suicide, both fictional (Neil’s) and real (Williams’). I find myself thinking about the coexistence of light and dark in all three of these lives (Spade, Bourdain, Williams). There’s no question that each of them threw off immense light. There’s also no question that they lived with deep, haunting darkness that ultimately overcame them.
I don’t want to believe that this is inevitable, though I do believe some darkness is an undeniable part of every life, even the most light. There’s clearly a huge range of “darkness,” and for it to suffocate light to the point of suicide is a huge tragedy. I don’t have any neat conclusions here, only an observation that all three of these losses are enormous, and they represent a triumphing of darkness over light that troubles me and that I refuse to deem irrevocable.
Thank you for this. I have been so down about Anthony Bourdain’s death (the first celeb death that’s really laid me low) this week. Thank you for shining this light on the darkness. It is so present in all of us and still so hard to fathom.
These recent sad events reinforce a couple of key points:
1) Worldly success is no guarantor of happiness. It is generally better to be successful than not, but it is not a panacea for all of our problems.
2) It’s hard for us to know what others are struggling with. The person that seems to have it all together may be struggling as much as the rest of us.
3) That’s why it’s so important to spend time with the people who are important to you, and to make sure they know how much you care for and support them.
4) Yet even with great friends and great support, biochemistry may be beyond a friend’s ability to help. Anthony Bourdain was with his dear friend Eric Ripert on his fateful trip. Robin Williams was suffering from an undiagnosed illness that was robbing him of his quicksilver wit. We and the ones we care about should seek professional help, but also understand that mental health is no different than physical health; illness and death are not a personal failing or necessarily anyone’s fault.
Thank you for writing this piece, Lindsey. Your words about light and dark resonate with me. Thinking of you. xo