About two years ago, my son, the person you know as Abstract, shared with me some of his posts on this forum. He told me that I should consider taking part…that I would find stimulating minds worth relating to. I chose not to at that time because this forum was HIS…something that he did separately from me. I did not want to infringe on one of the few pleasures that he had found as an adult…reaching out to other minds separately from me.
When he was a 7 days old, he had to have heart surgery to correct a coarctation of the aorta. At that time his father and I were told that there was a 10% chance that the surgery could cause brain damage. During this time, my son and I developed a deep and enduring spiritual connection. As he grew, we saw no evidence of brain damage, but rather evidence of genius. As early as when he was in kindergarten…maybe earlier…he and I had deep discussions about Infinity, the concept of God, and more. During this part of his life he had difficulty grasping the concept of yesterday and tomorrow. He finally settled on calling tomorrow ‘nextday’…and we all went with that. As he grew up, he and I loved to speculate about the universe together. I did not really think that it was abnormal for such a young child to be able to think on this level because of the family that I grew up in. Some of you in this forum who communicated with him seem to have satisfied his need to question, seek, and debate about the seemingly unsolvable.
Relating to him has always been wonderful and challenging and one of my favorite things to do. He was an amazing, brilliant, sensitive, empathetic, gentle, caring, loving and very strong person. He was a genius musician, writer, mathematician and philosopher. His illness was completely separate from these gifts. His gifts were not what killed him…they were what sustained him for as long as he lived.
As he developed into the wonderfully gifted young man that you knew, he became more and more burdened with irrational delusions and paranoia. This was horrible and painful for those of us who loved him…as well as for him. I often worried that there might not be many people who got to know his brilliance and beauty, but I was relieved to learn that many other people were, after all, graced with getting to know some facets of his very special, loving spirit…regardless of how much he began to withdraw due to his affliction.
Robin’s (Abstract’s) love and strength helped him persevere for 25 years. Those of us who were blessed with knowing, loving and caring for him, personally, tried everything we could to make this life endurable for him…to encourage (beseech, even) him to stay with us longer…but to no avail.
It is becoming more and more clear that he had been intricately planning and preparing for taking his own life. He had back-up plans. He was able to hide his intentions from everyone but me, for the most part. He asked me if I really would be devastated forever if he took his own life. I tried every thing to talk him out of, prevent, such a path…and I told him of course there would be a painful emptiness in my being forever. There is. I am blessed with two other unique and brilliant children so I must carry on for them.
Robin (Abstract) is still with each and every one of us that his life touched…in the microcosm and the macrocosm…infinitely within us and infinitely enveloping us.
So I say (as he and I used to say to each other at each parting) “Robin! I love you Infinity!”
May your torment be over and may you be consoled by the light and the love of the All.
motherofabstract (I had almost written down your real name, but then realized you may be opposed to that),
I have attempted to post this on the obituary, but Robin was working with me on some of his writing, and was sending it through email.
It wasn’t finished, but was quite substantial.
After receiving the terrible news, I decided to electronically publish his work on a website essentially as it was. The Religious Text of Robin Anderson
I wanted to share this with you and your family because I’m not sure if any of you were ever able to see this before, and I also wanted to provide Robin’s interest to share his truth’s to the world.
If, for any reason, any of the family would rather that I take this publication on this site down, please let me know and I will immediately remove the site.
I will miss Robin, especially our vibrant and insightful discussions.
Thankyou, I to have a son. Mine just turned 28 and has , ma’am I could tell you alot of similar things. The most iimportant thing I can tell you is, thank-you for giving him to us and the world. He lives within us.
Jayson
I have no idea if you truly know my real name. It would probably be best to stick with this screen name for now.
Robin shared with me some of what you have posted, among other things. I believe that we do have this writing in its entirety but I have not been able to make myself search for it as yet. At least one family member has suggested that I ask you to remove it from the internet, but I know that Robin would not want this…notice what he says in the beginning or the ‘text’ about oppression…so leave it open to the public, please. I know that it wasn’t finished. I guess I hoped that he would decide to stick around until it was finished…who knows…maybe he thought it was. I understand why you published it. I hope that by “essentially” you actually mean, truly, “as it was”. He produced many other writings of a different sort. His poetry is wonderful.
It seems that he trusted you by sharing these writings with you via email. I am truly glad he felt he could entrust them with someone other than me. I may post more at some point, but at this point it is like tearing the stitches out of a sewn-up, gaping wound…
For your peace of mind, “essentially”, simply meant that I did adjust the subject headings to center alignment for ease of reading and right aligned his post-script “God Bless” et. al. for the same reasons, but did not edit the content, grammar, font choice, or text color - per his wishes.
I will miss him so very much; I wish I could have known him in person.
He was very much an influence to me personally, and has been responsible for motivating me to continue my own work - which now I am very sorry that I did not produce more quickly as I know he was anxiously awaiting a personal copy of the work he was helping me with.
I am so very sorry, and I lack words and grace well enough to extend my love and compassion to you and your family.
Jayson
Thank you for this reply. Your adjustments to the text are appropriate. It took me two weeks after his death to gather the emotional strength to begin reading posts that were associated with Abstract. I wish I could have every word he ever wrote and I hope that his posts don’t disappear before I can read it all. (I am still grieving and perhaps always will be…plus I am a single mom still working hard to provide…so time and energy is not something I have a lot of.)
Please consider sharing your works with me. I will be glad to read them.
Thank you Chakra Superstar and Jayson and all others who have offered their condolences.
Yes he did have constant love through out his life. His life was not always ‘a bed of roses’…unless you take in to consideration the thorns that roses have. There were certainly trials that he had to endure, but I am sure that, aside from a few times of psychosis, he knew he was loved. He knew that he was not alone and had at least one person who he could share honestly with. I guess it is a consolation to know that I did provide, at least, that for him.
His statement “Love is the gravity of the soul” is one thought that he did not share with me. Since the moment that I realized that he had coined this phrase I have constantly pondered about it. About one month before he ended this life, I was alarmed by my intuition that he had shut off our connection. It was as if someone had drawn lead curtains between our souls. I frantically began trying to alert his other family members, his friend and his psychologist… I told them that something was more wrong than ever and that he was suicidal.
So I wonder…if “love is the gravity of the soul” does that mean that love has to be cut off before the soul can move on? Is it possible that our loving him so much caused him to stay, suffering, longer than he could bear?
As a mother, I know that there really isn’t much one can say. I grieve for Robin and for your loss. As I write this, the tears are streaming down my face and I share your pain/I drink a little from your cup. Your words about your son are so beautiful and they painted a picture which I saw in him, within his essence, when I shared with him. Above everything, he was such a sweet beautiful Being.
Sometimes, the only real thing which can bring us “there” is a deeply-felt gratitude for those moments with someone we’ve lost (yet will never truly lose) and the eventual letting go of being “anywhere else” with him but in that place of gratitude and love.
~ as Rumi said…Thankfulness brings you to the place where the Beloved lives."
At a guess, assuming my mind works anything like his, I would say it was a physical description.
As a philosopher, one is constantly looking for more accurate and more exhaustive definitions in order to make sense of the world when others seemingly cannot (sufficiently). Poetry is not apart from this pursuit, and so concise, precise attempts often take the form of elegant aphorisms - such as love is the gravity of the soul.
What is love? Well, what do I know about love? I know it is a feeling, and that it feels longing, sincere and devoted. It feels heavy and strong, and runs through your entire being, through your soul. One cannot make such observations without being so well aquainted with such concepts, and one cannot give them such importance without the realisation that they have such significant effect on oneself and one’s surroundings. I would think such a statement from one’s son a cause for pride and peace, in the knowledge that he knew it so well.
I cannot claim I knew him very well or that I have any firm basis for this interpretation, but my views are that it makes a fitting epitath for a life well spent.
Please accept my deep condolences to You. I would alsop lile to share my son"s suicide with You, who took his life 2 years ago. We could perhaps set up a special correspondence in this regard.As Your wound being relatively more recent than mine, perhaps, gives me an opportunity to share some of the attempts at healing, which I have tried, to help with our sorrow: God Bless : Obe. We could correspond on the open forum, or as personal communication.
My condolences, too, for your profound loss. I’m looking forward to reading your son’s writing that has been made available. Please indulge me in the following.
Your son has given me two gifts of which I am aware. I’ve been here a short time and addressed your son directly only once in a thread that he authored and in whose title I had an instant identification. As I’ve been writing here daily, I’ve regretted that I didn’t expound on the solution that I broached: I vow never to make this mistake and in this regard, perhaps, his influence can have a perpetual effect as I have continuous interaction with men like him and those with chronic substance abuse.
I have been a member of a Fellowship for several decades which believes very strongly that those of it’s members who lose their way or, worse, land in one of the three guaranteed destinations–jail, an institution or death–that they do it FOR the rest of us, meaning that our knowledge of what they do buys us more time, as our time is contingent upon a few simple things.
My personal, suicidal despair has been at bay for a year or so and I have no confidence that this will remain true: If I return there, then I will remember ‘Abstract’ and force the thought that he did it so I don’t have to do it and save my family the horror of that funeral.
Thank you for your indulgence and thank you for posting. You seem like a very courageous person.
Fuse: I suppose it is difficult, but I agree with showing respect to Abstract in this way…his ideas are definitely worth reconsidering…I don’t care how uncomfortable it might be. There is more to the story, of course.
I feel guilty that I hadn’t noticed this until now. I saw a quote by Abstract in V-OutOfTheWilderness’s sig which said R.I.P. but I thought it was some inside joke between him and Abstract. Then I stumbled across this thread. I can’t believe that was real.
I have a mind now to go through a sample of his posts to get a feel for how he thought.
Now I wish I had conversed with him more, to get to know him better, maybe even gained some insight into his late predicament and offered some words of encouragement. But I don’t know what I would say.
I’m reminded of the times in my youth when I was suicidal. I don’t think anyone could have ever talked me out of my suicidal ideations–or even if they could, I would have felt manipulated instead of convinced, and I would have continued brewding in silence over how it should all end now.
I’m also reminded of how cock-sure I was that I could help other people with their problems. I had a girlfriend at the time who had some major psychological issues. I kept on trying to reassure her that she could tell me anything and that I would understand. I was a psyc undergrad at the time, and tried to convince her that this qualified me to understand whatever it was she was going through. Later, after we broke up, I found out just how disturbed she was, and how clueless I was to some of the things going on in her head before the breakup. I don’t know if I would have been able to understand, or if I could have done anything to help her. It was quite humbling.
I find that a lot of the time, even in our most sincere efforts to offer words of advice or solace to those who appear to be suffering or in need of help, a part of us is really trying to help ourselves. Looking back now, I realize that the “wisdom” I wanted to bring to the table in trying to help my ex-girlfriend was really an effort on my part to persuade her to believe in my views, opinions, values, attitudes, and so on. I think a part of me did want to help, but it’s obvious now that another part of me just wanted to spread my own beliefs onto another who was vulnerable at the time.
I had a fundamentalist Christian friend a while back who, whenever he noticed I was down in the dumps or troubled by something, would always seize the opportunity to make a convert out of me: “Trust in Jesus, Gibran. That’ll get you through,” he’d say.
We all do this, and I don’t think we can help to do this, not all the time–indeed, it may sometimes be helpful to the other person despite what our true motives are. But I wonder if this is sometimes one of the reasons those whom we are trying to help resist us. I wonder if they can sense what we’re doing: you’re not trying to help me, they might think, you’re trying to push your own views on me–you don’t really understand, you don’t really care.
Of course, we do care, but there is this eclipsing in the eyes of those we are trying to help–an eclipse of our selfless motives by our selfish ones, and all they can see is the selfish motive. I say this, not claiming to know what was going on in Abstract’s mind, not even assuming he resisted any help offered to him, but knowing what was going on in my own mind back when I was depressed and suicidal.
So what could one say to someone in need of help? What would I say to Abstract? In Bowling for Columbine, Michael Moore put this question to Marilyn Manson in regards to the Columbine shooters. Manson replied: “I wouldn’t say anything. I would listen.”
Abstract was many things. Among those things, he was a nihilist preoccupied with egodeath, in addition to being a schizophrenic. Frankly, I’m not surprised he killed himself, in fact, other than fuse, I’m the only one who saw it coming.
From his belief that the microcosm contained the macrocosm, to his rejection of labels and rigidity, to his preoccupation with transgender and universal brotherhood, Abstract didn’t have a strong sense of identity, of self, it seems like he didn’t particularly enjoy being alive and being himself… resisting, struggling.
Life requires effort and a strong sense of self, of division, of separateness, all things he attempted to overcome via his philosophy. His ideal person was a watery one, one that could transform into others at will, one that encompassed all psychosocial variations within itself, a doppelganger of sorts, a mime, a shapeshifter, a voyeur.
What is death but a releasing, a letting go, transitioning from a relatively fixed, stable form, composition and constitution to a relatively transient one with infinite, unlimited potential to become anyone and anything?
Even schizophrenia and his belief that he could broadcast, transmit and receive thoughts was a blurring of the lines between self and other. What is schizophrenia but a breakdown, a fragmenting, a splitting, where the lines between the subjective and objective, between pathos and logos, between fantasy and reality, future, present and past, there and here, you and me, them and us begin to collapse. It’s a disordering of the mind, and what is order but the opposite of balance and equilibrium, order more this than that, disorder more this, that and the other, occupying the same space and time? I’m not sure what experiences and genetics lead to this disposition (possibly negative ones?), I was aware of his essence, but not necessarily what brought it about.
Many people view suicide as a form of supreme selfishness and hedonism, of wanting to escape pain and suffering and caring little for the pain and suffering others will experience in your absence. However, there’s another perspective which may apply to Abstract. Suicide could be seen as the deepest form of altruism and asceticism, where one ends his form, choosing to feed the world with his nutrients, or, less Abstractly and more personally, one perceives oneself as a burden on others and doesn’t wish to burden them any longer.
Suicide is not something arbitrary or incidental to Abstract’s life, suicide was the deepest expression and manifestation of who and what Abstract was. Even his name, Abstract, was an indication of who and what he was. He didn’t want to be concrete, a particular, a monad with a strong sense of self and identity, of life, as life requires resisting the flow and transience of things. Rather, he wanted to blend in, to join, to merge, to lose himself in others and in the whole.
In summary, his philosophy and his personality was very Buddhist and nihilistic. He was very genuine, as his philosophy was an expression of his deepest self and longings, a philosophy preoccupied with death and the absolute nothing, everything or chaos as opposed to western philosophies and religions which are more preoccupied with the absolute something or order, each which is nowhere apparent in the world (absolutes, absolute nothing, everything or something). Life is the dynamic interplay of these two extremes, and he gravitated towards the former which is perhaps the more prevalent force in the world.
I’m very happy you were abstract’s mother. It makes it easier to understand some of what he was.
I was, at first, totally shocked when I read about abstract’s suicide. I read of it about 1/2 hr. ago and have spent the time reading the thread in an effort to settle my mind. I ran the gamut;–was I as nice to him as I could have been?; did I do enough to try to understand him?; did I really understand the gravity of his illness? But these were all thoughts of me rather than of abstract.
Now I only feel peace–almost a joy. Can you understand? I’m writing to you, not about Robin or what he was, but about me and how I feel about you. If I could hold you and rock you as my child, I would.
eyesinthedark: I need time to ponder all that you have expressed but my initial reaction is gratitude that there are people that seem to have understood Robin. Sometimes I have felt that I was selfishly keeping him in this existence…for myself. (for example when he was recovering from heart surgery when only 8 days old and I bonded with him trying to entice him to stay in this existence and let me show him this world). I will write more soon…when I am not making myself late to work…but for now I want to say that, for the most part, I agree with what you have written about Abstract. You seem brave for daring to explain things this way.
lizbethrose: Thank you. I really want people to remember my son and his wonderful, exciting expressions…not just his illness. I cry, but yes, that is for myself…my loss…perhaps a little for him because I really hoped he could experience the joys of intimacy and I am not sure that he ever did…I cry because I selfishly miss him.
I edited, there were some ideas I wanted to flesh out, not to mention some spelling and grammar mistakes I wanted to correct.
It’s not bravery, so much as I tend to revel in boldness, directness and divergence, which is not to say I’m being disingenuous.
I didn’t know Abstract personally, so much as I knew him Abstractly, as a thinker, as a philosopher first and foremost.
Philosophically he struck me as a monist of sorts, someone who negated or relegated division and separateness.
For him, distinction was often illusory.
For example, an example he used, if I wrote a series of letters “randomly” - xryqu, it’s meaningless to me, you, and anyone else, but if the universe is infinitely varied and vast, which I believe he tended to believe it was, though he was open to all possibilities (you could even say he lived more in possibilities than in actualities), then perhaps in some remote part of the universe, what I wrote was an extraterrestrial word, and if I wrote more words down, eventually and inevitably I’d wind up sentence, a paragraph, a book… you see where’s he’s going with this.
Of course there’s some truth to this (the universe may or may not be infinitely varied and vast, so…), nonetheless it’s all very fantastic sort of thinking and it tends to equalize all things, both in terms of what they are and the value we assign them, so that no thing and by extension person could be said to be (absolutely) x or y, or valuable or valueless, it depended wholly on context.
Furthermore, no thing could be said to be more meaningful than another, everything was equally meaningful or meaningless from an absolute, objective standpoint.
Another example, he believed the ideal person was a mix of male and female, white and black, young and old, and could become more like one or the other at will. When I urged him to take a personality test, he refused to be pinned down. Initially he received an enfj on myersbriggs (I thought he was an intp or infp), then he insisted on taking the test again and wound up with istp, to prove to me and to himself that he could have a dramatically different personality at a slightly different time, altering his personality at will even (did he have multiple personality “disorder” by chance?).
Life is contextual, of course, I tend to agree with this, though I have my reservations. However, I’m not sure if the universe is infinitely varied and vast or if the microcosm contains the macrocosm.
However, that’s where Abstract began and ended, he never really fully went beyond that and dealt with the conditions and contexts he found himself in, or addressed the conditions and contexts humanity found themselves in, or at least he seldom did, was reluctant to, or didn’t emphasize it. All was contextual and therefore, both existent and nonexistent from an “objective”, neutral standpoint, both good and bad, male and female, this, that and the other.
For him then, life and distinction was a kind of illusion.
All was circumstantial, relative and situational, dynamic and ever-changing, flawed and imperfect, and therefore, all is one and the same, with an infinite potential to become anything and anyone… all is infinite potential.
The past wasn’t important to him, what mattered was the present and the future, what you are and wanted to become. He believed human beings especially weren’t limited by things like age, race, sex and their genetics, or that they could overcome them and become anything and anyone they wanted or needed to become, and that that ability and propensity, more than anything, is what made us who and what we are… human. Humanity then, perhaps more than any other species, was itself the embodiment of the deepest metaphysical principles of the cosmos, and Abstract believed that one day, all distinctions between people and perhaps even species would be blurred or dissolve and we’d enter a new golden age of universal brotherhood and oneness… or at least that’s how I understood it.
The opposite sort of philosophy would be to say that things have an essence or, even an existence that never changes and isn’t dependent on anything or anyone but itself, or natural or divine law, and that change and perspectivism are in some sense illusory - left brained absolutism and pluralism as opposed to right brained relativism and monism.
He’d use all kinds of clever tricks and wordplay to arrive back at this conclusion.
Additionally he was very preoccupied with spirituality, mysticism and death and what, if anything, lies beyond, again, as opposed to the here and now, his attention was forever elsewhere.
He didn’t adhere rigidly to any particular philosophical or religious school of thought or cultural tradition, though I’d say his thinking had a great deal in common with Buddhism, Daoism and Zen (see Alan Watts). Of course it was too idiosyncratic and nuanced to fit in neatly and precisely with any other, especially more so his immensely peculiar psychosocial views.
What sort of person would be drawn to such a philosophy besides just saying, well, one who’s wise since it’s the correct one, or one who’s foolish because it’s the incorrect one? I’d say the absolutist and the pluralist desires drama, risks and rewards, wins and losses, and he wishes to cling to life, to capture and bottle it, where as the relativist and the monist wants to let go more, to abandon themselves to their feelings, their emotions, their improvisations and whims, creativity, playfulness and imagination, and that probably says something about Abstract. There’s great freedom in such thought but also great indirection and less security. There’s less of a right and a wrong, everything is open to interpretation and reinterpretation.
You can still be perspectivist (I lean towards perspectivism though not wholly, and my perspectivism is far more left brained and systematic, I begin there, but that’s not where I end, my categories and conceptions are flexible, nonetheless I love to categorize and conceive) and be more pragmatic like myself and know that even if there is no static, objective, things out there, we can still make use of our perspectives and say, well this poison may be medicine to a cat and nothing to rock but that’s doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going to drink it and since you’re more or less like me, human, I’d advise you not to drink it either… and of course Abstract did that, he had to in order to function in the world, but he tended to get lost in his perspectivism.
For him it was either one or the other it seemed, either a thing was something fixed and therefore something could be said about it, or it isn’t and little or nothing could be said or thought, everything is just noise, static on your television screen, including you, including the screen.
For whatever reason he took his perspective of perspectivism to an extreme and thus lost touch with reality (not to say nothing physiological or neurological was occurring), a reality that was perhaps unkind to him in some ways, I don’t know, perhaps physical complications (like you mentioned) with his heart in addition to his mental and social difficulties drove him to it, but let’s not forget philosophy can shape our personality and not just the other way around. I believe his philosophy contributed significantly to his own demise… that’s where that sort of thinking when taken to an extreme ultimately leads.
All extremes lead in death, from extreme positivism to extreme negativism… he happened to be negative in the philosophical sense. He wanted to drop out, to relinquish, to surrender, and perhaps more than anything, to merge, to become one with everyone and everything… maybe he had fear of abandonment issues, I don’t know.
Where as I don’t, I want to be myself, I want to live for as long as I can… which is not to say I don’t have a dark side, on the contrary.
No matter the differences in our philosophies, I think we both recognized each other as thinkers, and even though we differed, for several months he kind of used me as a soundboard for the many ideas that were whirling around in his head, because even though we diverged on some key issued, he knew I would provide him with relatively objective, fair criticism and alternative points of view, and that I wouldn’t be biased or prejudiced contra his ideas just because they were “weird” or other than my own… I think we both appreciated each others intellectual openness, and I’m sure many here felt that way about him.
We shared nothing personal, I wasn’t his friend so much as his partner working on a project, or his philosophical associate, we kept personal discussions to a minimum.
I warned Abstract to get help, but either he didn’t realize what dire mental straights he was in… or he didn’t care. In a way, I’m not sorry he took his life, because I don’t think he did so on a whim, even if he was going through a rough period mentally and physically. No one his age or even decades older explored the implications of life and death more than he, and he had many opportunities to seek additional professional and interpersonal help… yet it seems he choose not to, from what I gather.
He lived his life the way he wanted to, and he left many of his thoughts behind on this forum and other forums, and in that book he wrote on spiritual matters, no doubt he foresaw this and despite his whirling, twirling, transcendental philosophy, wanted to leave a little something of himself behind, a legacy, a little piece of immortality in a fluid world. No regrets then? At the very least before he died he could say he did it his way, he met life and death on his own terms, and for that… I admire him… many people can’t say they same, their thoughts are other peoples thoughts, their feelings someone else’s. Robin Anderson wasn’t anything other what he appeared to be, he may not have disclosed everything about himself… who would, but what he did disclose was real, of that much I’m certain.
eyesinthedark I have seen this. It is so very perceptive. I have much to respond, but little time right now.
(Robin showed no signs of multiple personality disorder, was mostly suffering from recurrent delusions, paranoia and profound anxiety. He seemed to be experiencing more frequent and worsening bouts of psychosis related to his delusions and was most recently diagnosed with schizo-effective disorder with major depression. He was willing to try medication and talk therapy and had found a psychologist who could sort of keep up with him. I have many thoughts about treatment of this or any brain disorder…but for now, I mainly want to remind everyone that he was more than his illness…to the very end…he was stronger than his illness…to the very end)
