Listen to thisRecently, I have become captivated by the artist Ren. Ren is a 33- year-old independent musician from Wales. He sings, raps, plays multiple instruments, writes songs, composes music, makes beats, and produces videos (many of them live 1-takes). Ren’s storytelling capacity is so prodigious he has been described as a “modern day bard.” He has been compared to Shakespeare. There is more, but you get the gist.
As talented as Ren is, it is not just his musicality that has captured my attention – it is the content of his music and the personal story behind it. When Ren was 20 years old he was signed to Sony Records and began working on his debut album. Shortly thereafter he became ill, experiencing a series of debilitating symptoms including chronic fatigue and constant pain. His condition became so severe that he was bedridden for up to 23 hours a day. Ren consulted with numerous physicians to try and determine the source of his illness and for 8 years was misdiagnosed with depression, myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME), and bipolar disorder, and prescribed medication for the same. Eventually, a doctor in Belgium correctly determined that Ren had Lyme disease. By this time, the medication he had been prescribed and the persistent suffering he experienced had wrought further damage on his brain and body, contributing to autoimmunity and psychosis.
Fortunately, after his diagnosis Ren was offered an experimental treatment of stem cell transplants which enabled him to resume living a somewhat normal life. Still, he copes with the symptoms of Lyme disease and the aftereffects (depression, anxiety) of the trauma of those horrific years. Currently, Ren is in Canada receiving intensive treatment designed to remediate as much of the damage as possible from the years of misdiagnoses.
Ren writes about his life experiences. His music is intelligent, insightful, honest, real, and raw, and he does not shy away from difficult or painful topics. Because he is lyrically gifted and emotionally vulnerable, Ren is able to convey his thoughts and feelings in ways that resonate with others. His song Hi Ren (which is largely responsible for parachuting him out of obscurity into social media stardom) brilliantly captures his inner struggle, the duality that exists in each of us, and the humanness that connects us. While much of his music is heavy, in each piece there is an undercurrent of hope. In interviews, Ren has stated that it was music, and his belief that someday his music would mean something to the world – that his suffering would be justified – that enabled him to endure such profound pain for so long. He has since become a voice for those experiencing chronic illness and mental health issues.
As much as I am fascinated by Ren and his music, I am equally fascinated by the community that surrounds him and his relationship to that community. On his YouTube channel, Ren consistently pays respect to the work of other artists and encourages his subscribers to support them as well. He thanks reactors for watching and commenting on his videos. After he released his song Suic!de, he went live on Twitch to check in with his fans and make sure they were doing okay. Ren regularly references the saying “a rising tide lifts all ships” and is focused on using his current success to help others. After spearheading an effort to increase the subscribers of another independent artist on YouTube (by thousands in one day), Ren said, “I don't want the take home of this to be 'aw ren did a really nice thing' cause this dude truly deserved it. I want the take home to be 'what small things can I do that might help someone else today?' the more love we inject into our world the more we shift the scales toward a better looking future.” In turn, Ren’s fan base is staunchly protective of him and supportive of each other, with many individuals attributing his work to changing (or saving) their lives.
Ren’s music facilitates healing because he shares himself and, in doing so, taps into what it is to be human. Ren’s story, and the stories of his followers, illustrate the crucial importance of connection, belonging and validation to personal wellbeing. We all need to feel seen and understood. We need to know we are not alone. We need to feel significant. We need to know that we matter and have something to contribute to the world. We need purpose. Frankl (2006), in his book Man’s Search for Meaning, described his experiences in a Nazi concentration camp. He relayed that prisoners who were able to find meaning in the most horrific circumstances were able to keep going (even if death was the eventual outcome), while those who could not find meaning were more likely to give up. Without meaning there is no hope, and hope is necessary for survival.
My journey down the Ren rabbit hole has led me through a whole new window into human suffering and resilience. I am not naïve to the atrocities that human beings can commit against one another. I am very aware of the long-term impact of trauma. I am educated in mental health issues and experienced in supporting people through adverse experiences. And yet – immersing myself in Ren’s community has helped me to realize just how narrow my scope of vision is.
We live in a world in which it is still not socially acceptable to
talk about the really tough stuff. Outside of our workplaces, how often
do we encounter situations in which depression, anxiety, chronic
illness, self-harm, suicide, addictions and other medical, mental health
and social issues are freely discussed? In our hyper-polarized society,
in which the divide between the left and the right has become so vast
that one end cannot even see the other end, we have largely ceased all
communication with anyone not on our “side.” Even conversations focused
on wellness become politicized, with people either safely clinging to
the dogma of the side they are aligned with or remaining silent out of
fear of accidentally offending someone. How can we heal, as individuals
or communities, if we are not brave enough to have real conversations
with each other? If we cannot stop focusing on our ideological
differences long enough to recognize our shared human experiences?
Which brings me to my point.
As Child and Youth Care Practitioners, we interface daily with the pain of the young people and families with whom we work – and this can easily surface our own pain. Do we openly acknowledge this? Do we create space for people to talk about all the ways in which they do not feel okay? Or do we avoid hard conversations because we are uncomfortable or (mistakenly) don’t want to upset anyone? How do we hold the pain of vulnerable individuals, or help them carry it, without internalizing that pain or inadvertently inflicting it on others?
Shying away from talking about painful things just leaves people alone with their pain, perpetuating their belief that there is something wrong with them and no one can help. Worse, collectively ignoring the dark underbelly that can exist in all of us can result in the demonization of those who dare to speak of their suffering and the silent destruction of those who don’t. It is only by shining light in the dark corners, seeing what lives there, sitting with it, and taking control of it, that we can begin to heal, to find balance between the dark and the light, and to uncover the value in our experiences.
We often find inspiration in stories of individuals who survive indescribable horror and emerge stronger. We applaud the underdog who rises above adversity. We watch movies and YouTube videos of extraordinary individuals who display super-human acts of courage. Yet we forget that each of us, as human beings, has the capacity for great suffering and great triumph. There is something inspiring in us all. How do we find it?
The answer to this question lies, in part, in the very nature of our work. We engage in relational practice. Creating connection and community, providing unconditional support and acceptance, being brave, approaching others with curiosity and kindness, actively caring, moving towards (not away from) sources of anxiety, and working to elevate those around us – these are the things that can inspire hope, promote resilience and lead individuals to discover the significance, meaning, and purpose in their lives.
I will end with the last few lines of Hi Ren:
As I got older I realised that there were no
real winners or no real losers in physiological warfare
But there
were victims and there were students
It wasn’t David verses Goliath,
it was a pendulum eternally swaying between the dark and the light, and
the brighter the light shone, the darker the shadow it cast
It was
never a battle for me to win, it was an eternal dance, and like a dance,
the more rigid I became the harder it got
The more I cursed my
clumsy footsteps the more I suffered
And so I got older and I
learned to relax, and I learned to soften, and that dance got easier
It is this eternal dance that separates human beings from angels, from
demons, from gods
And I must not forget, we must not forget, that we
are human beings.
Reference
Frankl, V. E. (2006). Man’s Search for Meaning. Beacon Press (Original work published 1959).
