Not Ominous, But Something to Consider

Fashion designer Alexander McQueen died. This isn't new news. It was this last February. When it happened it didn't even blip on my radar. I don't follow fashion like I follow other celebritiesm. It's not a world I know.

But something struck me about an article that popped up two days ago in my gmail. It said he committed suicide. And again, maybe this isn't new news but he, at the top of his professional game, felt alone. He died the night of his mother's funeral and obviously he was severely depressed.


His psychiatrist said, "He felt it [fashion] was the only area of his life where he felt he had achieved something. Usually after a show he felt a huge come-down. He felt isolated, it gave him a huge low."

This is what struck me. This. So many of us are searching for that thing that defines us. For many of the people I know, it's creative. We want something creative that defines us in a large, renowned way. Some of us don't know what that one thing is. Some of us do but for whatever reason don't feel we can make it. And some of us are on the edge of very exciting things. And maybe Alexander McQueen had all of those emotions, and he got to where he wanted to be and yet it wasn't enough.

That's what scares me. We all have these goals like they mean something. That once we hit them this restlessness that consumes us will ease. That if we only could find that thing worth fighting for. That thing to pursue. Then all of this would quiet. But I don't think it does. It didn't for Alexander McQueen.

What does that mean for us? And what does it mean for how we live?

(original article: here)