Reflections on Melancholia, Sadness, Suicide, Scandinavians and the Death of a Goldfish

Some tales are hard to begin, perhaps because they have no real beginning and no real end; they are merely the small vignettes of life that come along and make us think and pull together disparate ideas, and in the end leave a strangely lasting imprint on us.

One of our Aquarium Fish Passed away Yesterday 

"Super MacDaddy Jonez" wasn't just any old aquarium fish, mind you. 

He was our "miracle fish." He came to our house as a tiny yellow Oscar some 5 years ago and pretty much his first experience was Mrs. Denmarkguy cleaning his tank, and while she turned away for a moment, one of our cats nabbed the wee fellow out of the temporary bowl on the table. 

We were never sure quite how long he was out of the bowl before my wife retrieved the poor little critter from the carpet, covered in dust, fuzz and cat hair. She cleaned him as best she could and expected he would die right there.

But he didn't. Instead clung to life and grew to be almost six inches long and the king of the fish tank. For almost five years. Then he unexpectedly was struck with the Ich and suddenly was dead within a few days. 

That Slight Sadness of Life

Now, the death of a fish is perhaps not a huge deal in the greater scale of life, but I was reminded of "that slight sadness" my friends used to point out as a seemingly permanent part of my demeanor, both when I was a kid and a young adult. 

When I came to the USA as 20-year old, I quickly learned that "melancholia" was really not an acceptable state of being... and I didn't really think much about it after that. And I did my best to not put myself in mind-states where sadness might occur.

Super MacDaddy Jonez' death, brought it back, and I entered a protracted state of rather wistful reflection.

Melancholy is perhaps a partially cultural thing; something often peculiar to Scandinavians... of which I happen to be one.

There's an irony in that; Danes (for example) are repeatedly found to be among "the happiest people on the planet" and yet? Denmark also has some of the highest suicide and alcoholism rates on the planet.

As I considered Jonez' journey to the Great Fish Tank In The Sky, I remembered reading a post by @eveuncovered (one of my favorite "deep thinking" Steemians) in which she — among other things — observed (about Finland):  

Melancholy is a built in factor in Finnish people and the best songs and movies are most often inspired by the more gritty nature of us and our country.

I remember relating to those words at the time; then I fast forwarded in my mind to a few days ago when @knircky considered the recent death of Swedish musician/producer Avicii, allegedly from suicide.

Sad and Happy Scandinavians?

Again, I keep coming back to the Scandinavian mindset; along with the realization that among my own family and friends, I can think of very few who haven't been in the throes of depression multiple times in their lives, and I have two family members... lost to suicide; one other tried and failed.

Then I thought about how Scandinavians and the Japanese are often aligned on many approaches and perceptions of life.

In Japanese culture there is a phrase "mono no aware"  which is all but impossible to translate, but loosely means something along the lines of "the slight sadness one feels at the impermanence and inevitable passing of things." It's a reflection on time passing-- we both enjoy the beauty of the sunset and yet also are cognizant that this very moment will never exist again. 

Considering Scandinavians, maybe our higher sense of "social safety" leads to more contemplation, and we have our own version of the "mono no aware", in that there is often great (and slightly sad) beauty in the passed, the deserted, the lost, the abandoned, the inhospitable... like a landscape on the Isle of Skye or in Iceland.

But it's still one of those impossible to translate concepts.

One of the most poignant and "accessible" portrayals of the the mood can be found by simply watching the 2003 movie "Lost in Translation." 

Suicide and Success: Different Cultures, Different Approaches

Thinking back to Avicii's death got me to also think about how we perceive suicide differently, in different cultures. 

In the US, we are — in some ways — more horrified by a suicide than a homicide. 

From my 35 years of living in this culture, I can't help but think this is a product of our discomfort with sadness. On some level the "emotional landscape" of the USA is somewhat flat (generalization warning!) in that much of what we feel can be distilled in to two primary "acceptable" emotion clusters: Things are going "WELL" and we feel variations of "happiness..." or things are going "NOT WELL" and we feel variations of "anger/rage."

With most other emotions-- even if they are perfectly healthy examples falling inside the normal spectrum of human experience-- it is suggested that we seek counseling or medical help. Perhaps subtly, but the subtext is there.

Homicide we understand, because we understand range and anger. Suicide? We're uncomfortable with it, because we're uncomfortable with sadness... which is just... WRONG.

I thought of the two family sucides and realized that they were met with much more philosophical understanding and far more of a "It's sad but understandable, life is hard for many people." And in Japan, suicide is almost regarded as a "noble" act. 

And yet? in Japan and Scandinavia, HOMICIDE rates are some of the lowest in the world. For example, the US has 4.88 intentional homicides per 100,000 population vs. 0.31 in Japan, a difference of some 15-to-1.

Success can be a Cold Mistress

What is success?

Again, there are great cultural variations when it comes to interpreting success. Avicii was Swedish; but making it big in the broader world. A world that measures success quite differently from a quiet boy who grew up with the ghosts of the Jante Law which — whether we admit it, or not — remains ingrained in the substrate of Scandinavian culture.

How do you reconcile a world focused on "being GREAT" against a cultural backdrop where ghosts whisper "Don't think for a moment that you are anything special, or better than anyone else!?"

Personally, I fall somewhere in the middle... but I still take many cues from my childhood in which I remember being told that "what mattered" was not what we had, but being connected to "nice friends and community."

A memory which — in turn — reminded me of a passage/dream sequence in the 1997 movie Contact, which includes the following quote (attributable to the late Carl Sagan), which I always have found very poignant:

"You're an interesting species. An interesting mix. You're capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you're not. See, in all our searching, the only thing we've found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each other."

And so, we buried the miracle fish under one of the trees in our back yard... and felt that slight sadness at the passing of time and a tiny life, and were reminded that — no matter which version of success we may be pursuing — it is ultimately the connections we have with each other that makes the experience we call "Life" bearable.

I'm skipping the usual "Q&A Section" on this post — but I totally invite your thoughts, feedback, experiences or anything you'd like to contribute!

created by @zord189

(As usual, all text and images by the author, unless otherwise credited. This is original content, created expressly for Steemit)
Created at 180430 16:54 PDT