3 Reminders in the Wake of Anthony Bourdain’s Suicide

It’s not a rare thing, waking up to sad news. Not anymore. It’s regular, expected even. Every day we wake up to news of people hurting people, or nature hurting people, or people hurting nature. And it stings. It all stings to varying degrees depending on who you are, who you’ve been, who you have grown to empathize with.

Anthony Bourdain’s suicide (those letters feel weird as my fingers type them out, I can’t recall letters ever feeling weird as I’ve typed them) STINGS. It was the first piece of news I came across this morning, a simple ‘RIP Anthony Bourdain’ caption stunned me awake as I scrolled through my Instagram feed.

Instant despair as I shouted ‘NO’ at my phone and frantically switched to Google, praying it was a mistake. Heart-wrenching pain I learned I couldn’t even assuage by blaming his age, because he had taken his life willingly. The second publicly successful (to put it lightly) person to do so this week.

All day I’ve come across tributes to Bourdain or heard talk of his impact. How can the loss of ONE person out of SEVEN BILLION affect so many? And how can the love of so many not be enough to sustain one person?

I have many thoughts and feelings about this news that broke this morning. And I’ll boil them down for the purposes of this post to the three most vivid reminders it shook back into my mind:

Happiness comes from within.

Bourdain literally had my dream job. He had, I’m sure, millions of people’s dream job — travel the world, meet new people, see incredible sights, eat great food, share it with others, get paid for it. He had the life I dream of, and it wasn’t enough. His suicide is a strong reminder that it does not matter what you have.

We constantly do this. I constantly do this. “I’ll be happy when…” “I’d be happier if…” It’s always about achieving something external — a certain degree, a certain job, a certain physical state. And not nearly enough about the internal. About finding peace within ourselves. About choosing happiness in our current states. About recognizing that “everything you need is already within you.”

This, I think, is one reason that Bourdain’s passing is extra painful. He had everything, his life was what so many aspired to. He was and is universally beloved. If that could not sustain him, how can what we have sustain us? If that could not make him happy, what do we have that’s any better than that?

And that is the next, more frequently available reminder —

We don’t know anyone’s inner demons.

It’s that rule, be kind to everyone you meet because you don’t know what battles anyone else is fighting. The words are nice, but how often do they actually play a role in our interactions with others? How often are we operating from a place of compassion for others?

What about compassion for ourselves? For all of us who compared ourselves to Bourdain, for all of us who compare ourselves to anyone who has what we want — what kindness does this comparison game offer us? In the end, chances are we’re comparing our raw realities to the scenic moments of someone else’s life.

That’s not a fair or accurate comparison.

Everyone is human.

It’s hard to remember this about our heroes. It’s tough to imagine that even with his devil-may-care attitude and nearly free reign of the world for so many years, Bourdain was not invincible. We forget that people we deem successful and inspirational are still people. We forget because we don’t see their true day-to-day the way we see our own. We’re in the trenches, and they’re the picture-perfect.

This falsehood is detrimental to our own happiness. And it’s detrimental to the people we place on those pedestals, perhaps making them feel they have no right to our everyday sort of complaints. Perhaps denying them some of the solidarity we more willingly offer each other.

I’ll always remember sitting in my parents’ basement early on Sunday mornings, before anyone else was awake, sipping fresh coffee and catching up on Bourdain episodes. I traveled the world through his eyes and referenced his shows before trips. I roped all my loved ones into watching episodes with me, wanting his experiences to wash over us all.

It’s odd how a loss can feel so far away and so personal at the same time.

Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.” — Anthony Bourdain