There’s a massively important memorial service for one of the actual best men I ever had the privilege to meet.  It starts at 11am on Friday.  We weren’t close, I just admired his grace, optimism, bravery, intelligence and the incredibly honourable way he conducted himself.  

Suspect he thought I was a mess, if he ever bothered to think of me at all.  We always met at events and I was often elevated and even weirder than normal.  I’m normally, generally, and genuinely pretty weird.  His gentle Christian kindness meant I’d never know if he disliked me, as he was such a kind, calm, well-mannered human.

We were going to change our flights to Invercargill to be at his memorial on Friday.  As much as that would mean a lot to both of us, I cannot fathom being around people, particularly people who knew me only a little in my former life. 

Knowing people only a little often means when we see them in settings we are meant to talk to them.  Talking to people, trusting people, connecting with people, seeing the best in people, despite knowing them only a little… well that all basically culminated in me landing in the loony bin.  Facts.

So, it seems prudent to avoid situations that may trigger my currently latent and well managed lunacy.  

Is that reasonable?  It feels reasonable.

Despite feeling calm, confident and emotionally, physically, and spiritually healthy lately… the idea of re-surfacing after five blissful years of relative anonymity sends may anxiety sky high.  

It is a heavy thing indeed thinking about loss and people and paths we are all on.  And connection.  Connection is a force I am not even close to coming to terms with, let alone understanding.  Knowing people and people knowing us, is a weirdly powerful and frequently lopsided phenomenon indeed.  

Mortality is not the issue that concerns me.  I am deeply saddened by some recent losses as in the modern Western world it feels like expiring any time before becoming an octogenarian is somehow a bit of a rip off.  Which, is a strange thing in itself if it is pondered with any rigour at all. Lifespans were half that before the industrial revolution.  Life spans and mortality rates in the Mekong basin among indigenous tribal populations and other similar demographics anywhere on earth remain skewed compared to our comfort zones.  Those populations are not the cause of the world’s problems and their impacts on the planet are light and perhaps many of them contribute to the web of ecology rather than detract from it.  

I have only had the honour of briefly experiencing/witnessing those ways of life and then returning to my highly consumptive and privileged existence.  We are connected to them and the muddy waters of the Mekong delta as much as I am connected to the great man whose life will be celebrated at the end of this week.  The weight of all of it is too heavy to handle today, so I have turned, once again, to writing it down.  

All of this cogitating on truth, knowledge, and my place on the planet has put me in yet another tail spin.  

Rod’s family has requested donations be made to the Auckland City Mission on his behalf.  Done and done.  It will be an honour to support the Mission in his memory.

There’s a bunch of incredible human beings that I do not know personally who have been or are involved with the Auckland City Mission and various other projects who are something of myth and legend in our household.  One particular force of nature who is and was a driving force in fundraising and organizing of the new build has affiliations with Matakana and the markets apparently.  A humble, private, and powerfully good human – I don’t even know their name actually.  We are lucky enough to be working with the same architects who delivered the design for the new Mission headquarters (and won national and International awards and scooted off on an international speaking tour as a result) and those founding architects mention various people involved with great respect.  This mystery person I am thinking of and their work are mentioned probably weekly in my world, and everyone just says things like “oh yes, they are just a deeply good human!” or “they so much and expect nothing in return.” So, basically a living legend who flies gracefully and silently under most radars.  

I don’t think there is a more beautiful or inspiring way to go through life than in this.  To live your truth, know your purpose, and be a consistent vestige of hope, charity, grace, activism, anonymity, and change in a world that seems to celebrate notoriety, fame, greed, and conspicuous consumption and destruction.  To live a truth couched in the concept of amazing things being accomplished when you’re not concerned who gets credit.  I know that this is the life so many people are choosing and knowing this is a constant source of hope in a sometimes dismal world.

I guess, what I am trying to say, is that there’s incredibly powerful people still on this planet right now.  And knowing they exist is something I need to be reminded of today. 

So, despite not being able to conjure up the strength to attend the memorial, the legacy of connection, climate action, kindness and calm he exuded has left the world forever changed for the better.

We are all connected, not just people to each other, but every living being is connected in the web of life and we are all infinitely miraculous by our very nature and existence. Why we can’t be kinder and gentler to each other knowing this is a mystery to me.

Life. It’s a lot.

Who knows how long any of us have left.

I just want to live a good, quiet, gentle life knowing myself and my limits and knowing and respecting other people’s paths and journeys and celebrating the good that each of them are able to perpetuate in their miraculous, magical lifetimes.