Fast forward to the future: Will your life's work matter?
Time travel with me.
What will life be like in the year 2123?
Ninety-nine years in the future?
Sometimes I wish I could fast-forward in time so I could look back and confirm that I’m making the right decisions. That my tradeoffs are smart. That I’m paying attention to the right things. That my “life’s work” (whatever that is!) matters.
Do you ever wonder about that?
Whether what you’re up to will stick?
I’m asking because ninety-nine years ago, on September 2, 1925, Jo van Gogh Bonger passed away in her sleep at the age of 62 at her summer home in Laren, Netherlands, with no idea that her life’s work would spread to stratospheric heights of worldwide adoration for her brother-in-law. (Jo is the protagonist in my novel, Saving Vincent, A Novel of Jo van Gogh.)
Talk about impact.
And she was an unlikely heroine. On the surface, not really qualified to advocate for Van Gogh’s worth. In fact, I’ve had people question me on how much she actually should get credit for saving Vincent’s artwork from obscurity.
This used to piss me off.
But now I appreciate how the question has caused me to think deeply about how life prepares us for what lies ahead. When you’re in the thick of living you don’t always see how the path is unspooling. In fact, your life may feel more like a relentless hamster wheel. No forward movement at all.
When all along, you’re being prepared.
Let me illustrate this with Jo as an example.
Preparation
First up, Jo had no supernatural premonition that one day she’d be the point of the spear to drive Van Gogh’s art out from obscurity. No practical clues either. She didn’t go to art school. No record that she studied art in other classes. No one in the art business in her family. High-stakes art trading—frankly, anything in business—was pretty much a distant man’s world.
Without those references on her resumé, I get it when people question how she much influence she really had in touting Van Gogh’s work.
But she did have preparation. Let me point to two grounding influences.
Family Life Filled with Music
Jo grew up as the fifth child in a family of seven kids with a happy childhood. Her dad’s career began in an insurance company specializing in shipping. As Jo grew up, her dad rose through the ranks until ultimately becoming a director. Middle class, the family was never wealthy, but Dad did have one obsession: Music.
He played viola in a string quartet. All the kids received music lessons and instruments. Jo and two sisters played the piano, and another sister sang. Two brothers played the cello and violin, respectively. Sheet music for Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert lay scattered through the house. Dad loved splurging on tickets to concerts and the opera.
Later, as Jo pursued higher education, she studied music, earning the equivalent of a college degree. You can imagine then that the sensibility of listening to compositions, discerning notes beneath the surface, being open to ethereal artistic expression and technique, learning to evoke emotion through her own piano playing, all enabled her to be familiar in one day looking “beyond the paint” of Vincent’s work. To be open to value when others saw a mess.
I think of this as Jo’s Step No. 1 in preparation for her future role.
Step 2 was her relationship with her husband, Theo.
Relationship with Theo
My first insight into Theo’s role in preparing Jo came through letters. When Jo and Theo first became engaged and achingly apart (Theo’s in Paris, Jo’s in Amsterdam), the fiancés exchange daily letters. Their touching correspondence reveals tender vulnerability and a gradual blossoming and deepening of love.
Theo is an art dealer in Montmartre where his dealership is an outpost for Impressionist artists not yet widely recognized for their new vision. He’s also trying to rep his brother’s work.
Jo asks Theo to write to her about painting. “I so much want to learn about it.”
He responds, “Why so few people understand painting is because they rack their brains and want something that pleases the eye and so they miss what’s most exalted. . . The painter can only tell us about what the world reveals to him and if he is a great artist, he does so in a way that moves or affects us.”
Imagine how Jo’s experience with music would readily accept that art can inspire. Theo goes on.
“Now [when we see] that the beauty is certainly not in the subject and yet we see that so much work and so much thought have gone into this piece, that we cannot doubt that this painter, too, had reasons for rendering this subject. We have to find out what prompted him to choose this frightful subject. We ask ourselves is it authentic? Has it been lived? What history does this creature have, what past, what future? What a world of ideas this subject opens up and if we enter into it, the painting will in all likelihood have succeeded in giving us a glimpse of ourselves. . .he will have succeeded in touching our very soul.”
To see beyond the paint.
Once Jo and Theo are married, their evenings are full of art discussions, especially around Theo’s brother Vincent who writes nearly every day from the south of France and ships crates of rolled-up paintings. Jo stands beside Theo as he examines them, pointing out what he sees. Drawn by curiosity and respect for her husband’s eye, Jo is unwittingly a student of Van Gogh’s art.
In their tiny Parisian apartment, paintings cover the walls. Rolls of canvasses rest beside dust bunnies under the beds. Jo is happily immersed.
She also is sadly unaware that her life with Theo will be tragically cut short after just twenty-one months of marriage and the birth of their son, for Theo will die at age 33 from illness.
Nevertheless, Theo’s teaching is a foundation. Preparation for the life work to come.
Worldwide Phenomenon
If Jo time-traveled to see her life’s work now, you know she’d be thunderstruck.
The list of Van Gogh success metrics (monetary value of paintings, quantities in prestigious museum collections, millions of worldwide visitors to multi-media “Van Gogh Experiences” and art exhibitions) boggle the mind.
But would she be disappointed that she’s not a household name?
Judging from how Jo remained frugal after the paintings amassed a fortune, living conservatively and in support of worker and women’s rights, I don’t think she was motivated by personal fame.
But she did want to make a difference. With all her heart, this quest to see Vincent acknowledged became one of her life passions.
A life’s work that stuck.
So. . . how have you been prepared for what you’re doing now? Looking back, it’s easier to see how the path’s unfolded, than the way forward. That’s for sure.
Do you know what your life’s work is?
I’m not sure either. One thing I do know: Recognition for Jo is one of my jobs.
And I love it.
R.I.P. Jo van Gogh Bonger.
Warmly,
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