Death is “disturbing” and “unpleasant”
To be filed under 'Things I Don't Remember Agreeing To'
Hello. This post is about Death & Birds.
As you may have noticed, I’m fairly new to this (posting on Substack), and it’s been interesting to experience a cycle of: writing a post—feeling ok about it—publishing it—being deeply touched & delighted that anyone responds—becoming crippled by self-doubt, shame, anxiety and regret for exposing my heart to strangers—writing a post—feeling ok about it…repeat.
My most recent crippling involved an old friend, and constant companion—my Inner Critic, who kindly asked what I thought I was doing, writing about Death & Birds. My Critic pointed out that the two are entirely unrelated (“so you look stupid from the get-go”) and that no one is going to want to be consistently reminded of their mortality, so I should just stick to Birds (“and most people find Birds boring anyway, so, you should just give up”). Thanks, Critic. You’re the best.
I do actually appreciate what my psyche is trying to do, here. It’s identified that in publishing these posts there lies the potential for someone saying, “I think you’re wrong, stupid, dull, weird” or (my personal worst case scenario) “What you’ve said has hurt me”, and my Critic knows well the devastation that this kind of response would traditionally provoke—so, genuinely, thanks for trying to keep me safe, Inner Critic, your efforts don’t go unnoticed.
All of that was to say that this inner dialogue has had the benefit of me more deeply questioning what it is that I’m trying to offer here. Why Death? Why Birds? And why have they come to feel important enough that I (a classic introvert) am apparently willing to be (potentially) told that I’m awful by strangers on the internet?