Lost Too Soon...

 

 

I continue to think about Philip Seymour Hoffman’s death.  I know in part, it is because I always tried to see every movie he was in.  His depth of talent, capable expression of that talent, and artistic sensitivity was all so compelling.  And yet, as one critic pointed out, he never once tried to make you like him.  That takes courage and real spirit, to not pander to an audience for a need they cannot fulfill.

I work with a woman who does that.  We photograph folk for churches and church directories.  As you attempt to get people to smile for you, (you would surely be shocked to find out just how hard that it is to accomplish), we, the photographers, must put on a type of show.  Engage them, encourage them, seduce a smile or some form of expression and find a moment that can then be frozen in time for the lens.  It is exhausting work.

Working with her makes it even more exhausting.  Her need to be liked is so overwhelming that just being near her is hard work.   She is loud, constant, seeking, and her attempts at humor and the necessary intimacy between photographer and subject, are a bit like nails on a chalkboard.  I have, on more than one occasion, had the person sitting in front of me tell me how glad they are they did not end up in front of her.  That is not a testament to me, as much as it is an expression that they escaped her neediness.

She, of course, has no awareness whatsoever of the emotional drive that creates such a desperate desire to please.

I suppose, Philip had no awareness of the emotional drives that caused him to purchase more than 70 small bags of heroin either.  The police reports indicate he was alone, and therefore we can assume it was not a night of “partying”, or the frenzy of fun that caused him to accidentally take his life.

To be so clear a vessel for so much talent, and to know so little about yourself, is a shock to me.

I do not know when I made the transition from pursuing outer goals to the deep inner journey that has become my home.  I know only, that I encountered others who had something that I knew I could not continue to live without.

At first that “something” was so far beyond my reach that I felt it was magical.  It confused and confounded me, I could not think about it, understand it, or come even close to achieving it.  But I could, and did hold on.  It took stamina, grit, commitment, constancy, courage, and will.  The deep mystery of it beckoned me, like nothing has before or since.  I gave myself to it; with ever greater and greater willingness…and over time the door began to open for me.

When that door did open two things struck me nearly blind.  The first was that the “something” my Teacher had in abundance was already within me, and had always been.  The second was the sheer simplicity of it.  I marveled that I could ever have been confused or confounded by something so startlingly simple, so beautifully elegant, so whisper soft.

I remain on the threshold of that door.  I have not gone into the realms that my teachers describe, nor do I know if ever I will.  But the view from this place is worthy of the lifetime of dedication that I have given it.

This hunger, to know by virtue of experience, these simple realms of pure being must have been what drove Philip to his untimely death.

I used to be filled to the brim with that hunger and nothing could satiate it.  Not food, money, sex, achievement, accomplishments, or any form of external experience, not winning, admiration, respect from others, recognitions or awards…nothing could make that ache go away.  I was sad, lonely, hurt, frightened beyond description, and yearning for the release, I imagined death would bring.

It is good to look back and remember from whence I have come, and just how far I have traveled.

As I view that long and winding trail, I see that the only thing that I brought to bear on the path, as it wound its way into the dark…was courage.

As fear rattled my teeth, cooled my bone marrow, made jelly of my knees, I kept moving into its embrace.

Now it is my only advice.

Stand still.  Do not run.  Do not hide.  Do not hope.

The tyranny of the constant search for self improvement, for the fulfillment of goals, for the hope of a better tomorrow, is the very thing that prevents you from falling into the depths of fear that are at the foundation of a life lived in sorrow and pain.

If you will only let go, and surrender…the fear itself will carry you home.

Rest In Peace, Philip.

Adayre R. Miller

2/5/14