With the shock of the words on my screen came a sudden intake of breath. You know, that desperate intake as you plunge into ice-cold water; or the type of breath that comes with loss, as you realise you are dropping something delicate and precious onto a hard floor, knowing that it will never be the same again.
The news arrived just after new year, in a very 2019 way…in a private message on Instagram. Since then I’ve been scanning across our beautiful fourteen-year friendship:
That 24hr diner that witnessed the unstoppable immediacy of our friendship back in 2005;
The laughter-filled weekends in Manhatten, or on Fire Island, spent staying up way beyond bedtime;
A hilarious, sunglass-clad, post-clubbing 9AM dash in a cab to Heathrow;
The rooftop pool in Hell’s Kitchen;
Our all-you-can-drink spot on Union Square;
The one-time visit to a new home in the Midwest;
The cellular-free shining brow of Frank Lloyd-Wright’s ‘Taliesin’;
The last time I saw him at peace, taking in an expansive view of Devil’s Lake.
Along with the sadness at the loss of my dear friend, I am propelled through gratitude. I am grateful for being lucky enough to know him, and to learn from him. Losing him has yet again reminded me that life cannot be taken for granted – we do not know when we will make an exit. I am nudged to make peace in the present, to continue with the process of clearing, simplifying.
Given the chance, I would tell him I love him even more frequently. I would tell him that his life was a gift, and that his intelligence humbles me. I would tell him that the world needed him, just as he was. I would hug him and tell him that the world is a richer place because of him. We would chat, and no doubt laugh just as we always did when we were together – uncontrollably.
Given that chance, I know what he would tell me. It is that very special secret that I will never be able to thank him enough for. He would tell me that I am doing the right thing, following the right path.
There is truth in the fact that my beloved friend Ian suffered. It breaks my heart every time I think about it. It drives me to work in service of others, of us all.
My intention is to share methodologies, knowledge and ways of navigating this world with the sole interest in the alleviation of our suffering. It’s only once we have clear sights set on first finding our truth, that we can even begin to tap into our true potential.
With gratitude for the being that you were, my dear friend Ian, you left far too soon. I treasure all you taught me, the love that you gave, the light you shared with all who came into your path. Thank you for being the true, unabashed joy that you were.
I love you. I honour you.