When someone loses their life to drugs, alcohol or suicide, is it really a life wasted? Think about it. Does the cause of their death negate their whole entire life and being, up until the point we lost them? Does it make them unworthy of the very life they lived prior to their death?
When I first heard the news yesterday of Philip Seymour Hoffman’s passing, my first thought was, What kind of pain was he in? What was hurting his heart so much, that he needed to escape? I wondered if he’d been depressed, felt disconnected, been diagnosed with mental illness in the past.
The news of his death filled our social media feeds yesterday. Repeatedly, I read comments like, “Another brilliant, young talent wasted,” or “What a selfish waste of a life,” or “Another celebrity wastes their life with drugs”.
Every time I read a comment similar to these, I felt a shiver up my spine, my heart awash with sadness, a nagging thought in my mind.
This could be my son. One day, my son could be filled with such sadness, such despair – that he could turn to dangerous and deathly coping mechanisms to escape.
Those who know my son’s story, know that he already suffers from great sadness and despair. And does so often. He’s only eleven. But his soul has been tormented for years. One of my greatest fears is that he will choose alcohol, drugs or suicide as a coping mechanism. That the weight of the world may be so great, so heavy, he will feel this is his only choice. This fear uncomfortably rests in my mind at all times. A constant and nagging darkness that threatens and casts a shadow on even our most joyful of days. Should he choose one of these escapes, because his pain is so great, would it make his life wasted? Would it make his Earthly presence unworthy of recognition and honor? Would his very choice, based on his feeling of having no other, eliminate acknowledgement of his very being?
I think not. 
But yet, we are all so quick to judge others, celebrities or not, who find their only solace and peace through means we find unkempt and dirty, evil and sinful. Why were many of us willing to quickly point to Mr. Hoffman’s entire life being a waste? To swiftly judge, instead of question? To point out the needle still in his arm, shake our heads and comment, ‘how selfish’? When instead, we could’ve asked the question, ‘what pain was he in?’ and made a point to honor the life he did live until yesterday. Honor the fact that his children will feel a great loss, their mother a heavy burden, and his family and friends great sadness. Likely, they will not feel his life was a waste, but rather that it ended too soon.
Imagine the person speeding on the freeway, driving ten miles over the speed limit, they hit a patch of ice, swerve off the road into a ravine and die from the accident. Was their life a waste? Their choices selfish?
Imagine the person who picks up smoking as a teenager, smokes for ten years, quits but later in life is diagnosed with lung cancer and dies. Was their life a waste? Their choices selfish?
Imagine, a world in which we are all so perfect we don’t make selfish choices or do things that we could later conceive as ‘a waste’ of our time. Foolish to believe this exists, no?
We are all guilty of judging. We do it every day. We lose focus and humility, grace and vulnerability. We find it easier to point out the mistakes and choices of others because it is much less painful. Turning inward, accepting our own imperfections, forgiving and loving ourselves is the hardest and most painful thing we will ever do. But it is also the most rewarding, the most heavenly, the most Godly thing we can do. We are all works in progress, are we not?
What happens when we choose love and understanding over shame and judgement? Perhaps someone like Philip Seymour Hoffman, someone like my son, someone like you – or me – would feel less hopeless, less pained, less broken. And instead would feel more love, more light, more whole.
And perhaps, if we all feel more love, more light, more whole, the less we will feel crushed by the weight of the world. The less we will feel the only way out, the only way to escape is drugs, alcohol or suicide.
I don’t believe any life, any being is wasted. I don’t believe that our mistakes, our choices are the only things left behind. And I don’t believe any one of us is untouchable, unreachable by the darkness of these vices. Therefore, who are we to stand in judgement about a life wasted, label the choices of others as selfish. When instead, we need to start with ourselves.
Remember our humility, practice our grace, accept our vulnerability.
Love ourselves. And love others.
And our hearts will fill with peace.
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