"What's the Point?"

In the last six years, my family has suffered a considerable amount of heartbreak. Mounting health problems and successive family deaths (which I won't go into detail about, because I'll make myself cry), have taken their toll. Every time something new of this sort pops up, I end up going through the same emotional rigmarole, and part of that rigmarole is always in regards to my chosen profession. With so many more important things in life--our loved ones, our lived experiences, the memories we make with the time we have--I ask myself the same question, "What is the point of what I do?"

 A few weeks ago, I came across a tweet posted in the #WritingCommunity, and it addressed this very same issue. To paraphrase, the user asked, "With so much hardship in the world, and so much suffering that we humans have to go through, what's the point of writing and why should we bother to keep doing it?"

I thought on this question a lot (I have that kind of time), considering everything my family's recent past experiences. Of course, I can never really determine what I think until I sit down to write about it. 

What is the point of what I do? Why should anyone bother to create anything, be it paintings, sculptures, choreography, music compositions, or, yes, books? For that matter, in the face of it all, why should anyone concern themselves with admiring or enjoying the fruits of creative labor? In the face of so much suffering, so much pain, what's the point of any of it?

The conclusion I've arrived at is that anything creative is worth doing because of life's hardships. 

Consider it for a moment. If life indeed were nothing more than a series of misfortunes and struggles, and everyone discovered this at some point, which they do, who would bother to endure it? Why would human beings bother to struggle to stay alive, knowing we'd only have to deal with even more crap as time passes? There would be people lining up to take themselves out if hardship were all there was to it.

That's where art comes in; art's purpose is to remind us that life isn't all hardship and difficulty. 

When you get into a difficulty, where do we turn for comfort (after our loved ones)? We watch TV. We turn on a favorite movie. We open up a book we particularly love and begin reading it. We put our headphones in and listen, from the first track to the last, to our favorite music artist. Art is where we seek solace in times of hardship.

If you don't believe me--why would you, after all, I'm just some schmuck with a blog--then take it from someone who could say this more simply and more elegantly than I ever could.

Source: Goodreads 

In his last published book before his death, A Man Without a Country, Kurt Vonnegut included among others two wonderful essays The first was titled, "Here is a lesson in creative writing," and the second titled, "I turn Eighty-two November 11th." 

He concludes the first section of the first essay with the following passage:

"The arts are no way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something." (Vonnegut 24)

At the close of the first second of the second essay, he quotes his son, Dr. Mark Vonnegut:

"I put my big question about life to my son the pediatrician. Dr. Vonnegut said this to his doddering old dad: "Father, we are here to help each other get through this thing, whatever it is."" (66)

Take these two statements in conjunction with one another and consider them for a moment. If art is the best way to make life more bearable--Vonnegut was no stranger to suffering, as his biography can attest--and one of our chief purposes in life is to help others get through life as well as we can, then one of the best ways to do that is to make art for the sake of sharing it.

Art reminds us that life isn't merely just pain and suffering, that it isn't just a struggle. There are bright spots, highlights, moments of beauty and grace, which we owe it to ourselves to appreciate and cherish as they come into our lives. One thing art can do is crystallize those moments, through one medium or another, for us to look at again and re-appreciate long after our memories fade. 

In other words, the point of writing--of all art humanity has ever made and will ever make--is a simple one. Writing is the life-vest that keeps us afloat amid our sea of troubles. Without it, our existence would indeed be a miserable one. With it though, with its comforting buoyancy keeping us above the surface, no matter how stormy life gets, we are reminded we can bare it until the next calm.