My children attend Kings High School. When the alert from the school system came in, I immediately called my son. I wanted to tell him before someone else did. I wasn’t sure if he knew this child just one grade below him who was killed on the highway. My son knew him, but not well. Apparently the boy, now in 11th grade, had come out as gay his freshman year. His parents had decided to isolate him and he was enrolled in online school. My son didn’t see him. He mentioned something about parents, Christianity, and conflict. My son cautiously told me the boy had probably killed himself.
This boy’s name was Josh Alcorn. He stepped in front of a truck on the highway after releasing his suicide note in his blog on Tumbler. He was not gay. He was transgender. He went by the name “Leelah.”
“Leelah” in Sanskrit means “play.” It’s spelled Lila or Leela if you want to google. It’s about creation in motion and speaks to the beauty of this cosmic drama. It’s a light word. I guess it also a dark word because the drama can be quite damaging to one who only knows separation.
Leelah’s suicide note speaks to many hardships including parents that didn’t accept her and wanted her to change. Did you know there are cultures in this world where the parents aren’t allowed to discipline their children? The tribe is responsible for discipline. The parents are only allowed to look upon their child with eyes of unconditional love. It’s thought to teach the child to fully know and understand love and therefore be able to love themselves and others as they grow.
I keep checking in with my kids. I keep reminding them how much I love them no matter what…no matter what. Of course my kids are perfect. Aren’t they? Are my kids easier to love than others? Have I not been challenged as a parent? Will I be challenged in the future and will I still love them no matter what? What does that look like? My heart breaks for the parents of this boy and the torture their mind will inflict upon them.
Leelah was worried she would never look the way she wanted to, never find a man who loved her, and never fit in. She was 17. Isn’t that everyone’s story? I think of those struggling to lose weight in a body they hate and worried of the exact same thing. I think of those abandoned by a spouse, struggling with self-esteem, and worried about the exact same thing. I think of those diseased, sick, and stressed, and worried of the same exact thing. Aren’t we really all in this Leelah together? Are the insecurities and suffering created by the different dramas not the same?
Leelah wanted her death to mean something to the transgender community and be a message about acceptance of this community by the larger population. When I read the suicide note I was reminded of the Tibetan’s who set themselves on fire in protest of Chinese rule. I remember the first time I heard of this practice long ago, I was shocked. I can’t imagine what it would take to light myself on fire or step in front of a truck on a noisy highway, alone, at night. It’s horrifying. It’s simply not the way. An authentically lived life…isn’t that the way? To live. To transcend the karma. To be yourself.
The yogic perspective on suicide is a person who takes their own life upsets the karmic balance of the universe. They spend no time in the contemplative state of the otherworld and instead immediately incarnate taking another soul’s incarnation out of the line up. They incarnate to the same karma’s and suffering. I don’t like that story.
I went to the mall to buy make-up the morning before Leelah’s death. A young man in full make-up helped me match my skin tone. He was quite lovely and I did notice. I had the thought that he really had found the perfect job, but a thread of worry made me pause and wonder what happens to him when he leaves work. He had nice skin and his foundation looked perfect. I was intensely looking at his skin and how smooth it was when I noticed he was watching me look at him. I noticed he noticed and then I wondered if he thought I was looking at him and not his make-up and I got really worried he thought I was judging him and I was wasn’t. But then I noticed that I wasn’t judging him, but I was worried about him and isn’t it the same thing simply because I noticed? I noticed he was different. And if I’m looking at him as different, then isn’t everyone and isn’t that in and of itself making him feel different and judged with every stare?
My eyes met his eyes for the tiniest of moments. I notice you. I see you. Sat Nam
And then we talked about lipstick. I wish Leelah had been shopping with me the morning before her death. I wish she could have seen that moment.
*The sole purpose of these articles is to provide information about the tradition of ayurveda, yoga, and meditation. This information is not intended for use in the diagnosis, treatment, cure or prevention of any disease. If you have any serious acute or chronic health concern, please consult a trained health professional who can fully assess your needs and address them effectively. Check with your doctor before taking herbs or using essential oils when pregnant or nursing.