Why I’m Happy to be Human — Despite the Ups and Downs

Last night, Melissa and I saw the rock opera Rent at The Muny, the great outdoor theater one mile from our house in St. Louis.

It was a beautiful, cloudless night — mild and breezy.

The second act opened with Seasons of Love (“…five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. How do you measure a year in the life?”)

When the song ended — with the final notes echoing off the trees surrounding the stage — Melissa and I cheered with 10,000+ others.

I felt happy to be alive…

…happy to be human.

It’s a beautiful thing — miraculous maybe — to witness talented humans dance and sing in perfect rhythm and harmony.

I imagine how they got there.

The dance and singing classes…

…the toil…

…the help from teachers, coaches, and family members…

…the memorizing of lines and lyrics…

…the auditions…

…the emotional ups and downs…

…the frustration…

…the fun…

…the heartbreaks…

…and the triumphs…

…that led them to this stage.

I think of my Dad and La Boheme — the Puccini opera on which Rent is loosely based.

It was my Dad’s favorite. He teared up every time he listened.

When he died way too early — at age 51 due to colon cancer — we buried him with his treasured La Boheme records cradled in his arm.

I think about Jonathan Larson, the playwright who created Rent. He died at age 35 of a sudden heart attack in 1996 — the night before Rent’s off-Broadway premiere.

And, again…

I think about what it means to be human…

…the ups and downs, the laughter and the tears.

We live in an ever-more-robotic age.

AI can write lyrics, compose a song, and choreograph a dance.

Robots can write an email, generate a graphic, and build a website.

And those who push the robotic easy-button save tons of time.

But they lose something along the way — that miraculous, human something.

I embrace AI for some things — to help me with research, to dig up the right word or turn of phrase, to analyze data. I cherish the time I save.

But I don’t want a robot to be my creative stand-in.

I embrace the creative process — the joy AND the pain, the fun AND the frustration, the triumphs AND the heartbreaks.

Sure, the creative process takes time. But there are ways to create beautiful things more efficiently and productively — without feeling stuck (that’s what I help my clients do).

So rather than hand it all to the robots, I choose to create. It reminds me I’m human. That’s a beautiful thing.

One last thing… Here’s the 2008 Broadway cast performing Seasons of Love(enjoy):