The Endurance to Exist
Friends,
I’ll come clean. Part of me wanted to skip writing the “Because We Can” newsletter this month.
There are a number of reasons why, everything from personal events that have been eating away at me to the state of both my country and the world at large. Each morning, I greet the sun with a refreshed sense of purpose, and the weight of all of these trials and tribulations sucks the air right out of me.
I watch my breath leave. That furnace of love and rejuvenation within me cools, and I am suddenly aware of how tired my body feels. Some of these challenges I have control over. Others, I do not.
But you’re feeling it too, right? All around the world, with each passing second, real people like us feel encumbered with the same emotions. These people do what they can to survive. At the end of each day, they weigh whether or not they carry the strength to participate in the activities that bring them joy. It’s something we all engage in—survival first; play later.
Because sometimes joy feels out of reach. Sometimes, the activities that restore and reinvigorate us with life feel pointless. For writers and artists, the more we look at the horrors of the world, the less purpose we may feel our own work adds to the global conversation.
But that’s so far from true.
Think about some of the most meaningful moments in your life. Think about those memories entrenched so near to your heart. Think about the love and life that flows through each one of those memories.
For me, several come to mind. It’s breakfast at a cafe in Paris with my wife, watching the sun rise and the city come to life. It’s waking up slow on that occasional Saturday with no plans, listening to the purring of a cat nestled against my side. It’s a 70mm screening of West Side Story with my mother (one of her favorite films) at the Music Box Theatre. It’s waiting in an excruciatingly long line for the E.T. ride at Universal Studios with my dad. It’s a bite of the greatest taco I’ve ever had in a parked car ahead of an event.
Some are big moments, but the more thought channeled into those memories, the more the smaller, mundane ones surface. The sun was pouring through the window at the perfect angle while I was reading a comic book one time, and that time stood out from all the other times I found myself reading in my favorite chair.
In some of my darkest days, there are several movies, books, and stories I turn to over and over again for comfort. Some of them take me back to childhood; they’re like a warm blanket. Others contain just the right words I want to hear, and despite having heard them before, each word still aces its landing.
We each carry memories and stories like this inside of us, and when we give them our attention, it’s restorative. More importantly, there’s a common thread across all of these memories and stories.
For each memory I mentioned, there was another person I was sharing that moment with. Each book or movie I turn to when I need that wellspring of rejuvenation? People made them. Not AI or machines. Real thinking, loving, feeling human beings.
And that’s where this comes full circle. As people gaping at the tragedies and problems with the world, it’s easy for us to feel small and insignificant. It’s perfectly logical to presume that, in the grand scheme of things, our actions, stories, words, or pictures don’t matter.
But they do. Think about your favorite book, movie, song, or what have you. Could the person who created it comprehend how meaningful, life-affirming, or important that work is to you? Not likely.
And that’s what I’m trying to say. When the weight of everything threatens your spark, detach from the world for a moment, dive deep into those moments closest to your heart, and find the strength to endure.
Because your work matters. Because there is someone out there right now who is remembering something you said or using your work as a guiding light in the darkness, as a beacon of hope and inspiration as they swim through their own troubles.
From a certain point of view, the idea of humanity is this sharing of love, kindness, motivation, and joy from one person to another. Especially in the darkest times, it’s this rebellious act of courage and empathy that pushes the human race to carry on and endure.
We’re all in this together,
Scott
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P.P.S. Here are the latest happenings in my neck of the woods:
Read my C2E2 wrap-up article, Phantom Finds at C2E2, over at Chronicle Chamber.
My final episode of The Batman Universe Podcast dropped. Listen to my Interview with Collin Colsher, creator of The Batman Chronology Project.
My recent short story “24 Hour News Cycle of Violence” was published in Behemoth Magazine.