The absurdity of life

As the light of this awesomely awful year begins to set, I find myself thinking about how absurd life can seem. Within the span of six months, we experienced waves of loss that crashed into each other, leaving little time to catch our breath in between. We watched my Mother-in-Love, Jane, pass away after years of warrioring through a broken body. We survived the unthinkable and horrific death of my father, Larry. We witnessed the death of our dear Aunt Merle, who was the oracle of our family. And just days ago, we said a heartbreaking goodbye to our 13 year-old lab, Buddy. How can a family have so much death in the span of mere months? IT IS ABSURD.

Our eldest son, Noah, is a philosophy major at the University of Portland. He often regales us with all the things he is learning, which includes his “take” on what the philosophers offered to the world. He and I can spend hours talking about life, God, humanity, politics, etc. I learn so much from his youthful and optimistic point of view. However, Noah has also always been an old soul. In the shadow of all the loss we have experienced as a family, we started to have conversations around how absurd it all seemed. Noah shared with me the philosophies of Albert Camu, Søren Kierkegaard, and Fyodor Dostoevsky. Listening to Noah’s relfections on these men and their thoughts was dizzying to me. All I knew after receiving my very brief and limited exposure to them was that I definitely leaned towards Kierkegarrd and Dostoevsky. Camu had no faith or belief in God, so his conclusions did not line up with my own life philosophy.

So, back to life being absurd…our family’s experience this past year is almost oddly laughable. I find it so strange to be reflecting on such great tsunamis of pain in these terms. But, when Noah and I would have these conversations, it often ended with, “It’s all so absurd…” The deaths of Jane, Merle, and Buddy were all expected and we were able to prepare the best we could. We were with them for their final breath and had the beautiful opportunity to thank them for their love and say goodbye for now. Dad’s death, on the other hand, was a traumatic robbery of his life from ours…it happened with no warning or preparation. Losing Dad like that was contrary to all reason and common sense…it felt wrong. ABSURD. Losing four lives we loved so deeply in a span of six months is absurd.

As I often do, I had to paint what my soul was experiencing. This time, I had Noah choose five colors randomly, in order to limit my palette. This challenges me to play with the values of the colors and creating interesting new colors by mixing what was available to me. Interestingly, a figure of a young man emerged. The colors are not my usual choices, but the painting exudes a moodiness and depth that I often experience these days. While I was working on the painting, I asked Noah to write a poem on his reflections of absurdity. He had not seen the painting yet. I think it is amazing how well the poem and painting relate to each other. Art and creativity breaks through the obvious and delves into layers of our consciousness that is yearning to be expressed. It is also a place where I find that I am most connected to humanity.

Absurdity

By Noah Carandanis

Absurdity is a blanket which soothes the soul.

It is also the hell in which intellectual journeying is trapped.

Simultaneously freeing and constricting, absurdity is a constant in living.

I feel Noah was able to convey the absurdity of the absurd! Strangely, having this feeling of absurdity brought some comfort to me. I couldn’t really decipher why, but, after reading what Noah wrote, it made sense. Absurdity is not either/or. It is both/and. It left me feeling the randomness that life can inflict. But, because I know that God is omnipotent and personal, I feel safe on this very scary, never know what’s around the corner life we live. My personal experience with God has landed me in a space that trusts in His love for me, even when the space is precarious and unbelievable.

God loves Jane. God loves my Dad. God loves Merle. God loves Buddy. God loves me. GOD IS LOVE.

That’s it. That is what I know to be true; it is what I feel in deepest corners of my heart. How can I possibly understand the ways of God? I arrogantly try to and even question His ways. Don’t get me wrong, I have thrown many tantrums at the feet of God, demanding to understand, “WHY?!?!” What I understand to be His silence is really His patience and love for me. I believe that longest distance a human can travel is the 18 inches from our heads to our hearts. When I take that long and arduous journey, I find peace. I find knowing. I find my Heavenly Father, ready to hold me and comfort me. Like a child, I may thrash around and fight His embrace, but eventually, I settle into the only place I know that feels safe.

I don’t have to know why. I don’t need to dwell on the absurdity of it all. I think it is important that Noah and I have had these converstations and have identified absurdity as a theme in our experience. But, as Noah wrote, it is “Simultaneously freeing and constricting, absurdity is a constant in living.”

As the dawn of the new year approaches, I am filled with hope…for now. To be honest, I vacillate from hope and dread in many moments. My cynicism often asks, “What’s next"? What pain waits for me? Why do I think that I’ve had my fill of sorrow?” As I acknowlege these questions and gently hush that voice, I console my skepticism with this: No matter what I may face in days to come…whether it is joy or sorrow…I will know that God has me in His embrace. I think this is why I am hopeful. It is not about experiencing joy or sorrow…it is not either/or. It is Both/And.