Madness

I have spent an inordinate amount of time, missing a man, I never knew. A man whose talent was so wonderfully, beautifully human that if I were able to bring him back, just for awhile, and so that I spend that time in his company, I would happily forego many of the so-called pleasures of life that I used to think important.

My life has been incredible in many ways, and yet, I squandered many opportunities by making choices based on hubris, narcissism or being so forward looking, that I missed the essence and the rare importance of those moments. And, once gone, they could not be recalled or reanimated. They now seem so ephemeral, I wonder at times if I was there at all?

I find physical pain is nothing in contrast to the pain of regret. I won’t take pain killers, —not because I consider it macho or want to appear as tough or stoic, but simply because pain provides context to the moment, and to life. I know that sounds strange, but I truly mean it.

Pain is the measure by which I can remember occurrences, events and their importance, — or stupidity. Pain, —- teaches lessons. It holds you in time and becomes strangely poignant.

Regret is incredibly painful. More so than the pain I’ve lived through physically, which has been by many people’s standards, quite impressive. But physical pain often fades, yet regret stays, like a hot water bottle perpetually attache to your feet as though necessary after a frigid immersion in icy water.

I won’t bore you with my regrets, for I have many.

And so it is that I find solace in reflecting on how one actor, one comedian, one — humanist, was lost to us through the demon of mental illness. His legacy stands head and shoulders above most of us and our achievements, yet, he was humble, self-effacing and a gentle soul, as witnessed by those around him.

His willingness to let us see inside the man, fleetingly, provided many of us with a moment of reflection and sadness at the things we too left behind, often, so many years ago. Distant and opaque.

The man of whom I speak, was Robin Williams. He had a profound effect on me in many ways, and I often wish I could have known him, for I think I would have been the better for it. He said something in a stand-up comedy routine once, which resonated with me, and still does, — like an echo that you’re not sure you heard or you imagined.

It explains in part my own wish for what he suggested was, madness. Because for me, the best parts of my existence were when I took part in acts, that to many observers, would seem to be, utter madness.

As I get to an age where one is prone on reflection, – the days long and the actions few, it strikes me that what I now need in my life, is; “a little spark of madness”. Madness is what keeps us alive and vibrant. I once again want to climb mountains, dive with great whites, or race my motorcycle at ridiculous speed down long, windswept desert roads, with no caution for my life or limb.

Time is of the essence, and yet, days flow like water and mix together so that I sometimes am not aware of time at all. And then, it happens. I hear a memory, or remember a line of prose, often barely spoken, softly.

“You’re only given a little spark of madness. You can’t ever lose it, or… without it, —- you’re nothing.”

Time is my enemy, as is normalcy and the mundane. Sparks need to fly…

Life demands that one live it, fearlessly, painfully, enthusiastically, leaving sparks behind like fireflies in the night.

So I live for those moments. Madness invigorates, enthuses, illuminates and hold me there, —- alive in that moment of wonder.

I wish all of you…madness.

Ciao…