August 27, 2014

by John Golden
NP Columnist

Unless you have been salt mining in the middle of the Danakil Desert for the last month, you most likely already know that the accomplished comedian Robin Williams took his own life recently. For years, he had had great success, prodding us into laughter with his spontaneous, high-energy approach to comedy, but the gifted actor finally succumbed to his personal demons and build-up of mental scar tissue. To me, his self-induced demise was so abrupt and tragic that it seemed almost Shakespearian.

Obviously, I did not know the late Robin Williams personally, but oddly his sudden passing caused me a substantial level of emotional turmoil anyway. After I had heard the terrible news, I suddenly found myself stumbling through a mourning process that was much more powerful than I would have expected. The shock lasted for a few days, as I spent many moments pondering and sorting through the variety of feelings that had been abruptly conjured up inside my silly little brain.

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