Say What You Mean

A friend died. He wasn’t my BFF, main bro or every day in my life dude. But he was a friend. That’s not what matters though, because the loss of him feels like a light just sparked out across the sky and nobody quite knows where the switch was in the first place.

His nonsensical passing has been a catalyst for much introspection, but also much action. I’m seeing people commit to doing things differently; to adjusting their perspectives and altering their usual way of doing things.

This is incredibly difficult to do. It’s made even more difficult by the fact that grief, in its weird ways, makes you want to shift your focus internally and not move from there at all.

But there is beauty in this moment, and that’s the thing he always managed to find, in his work, in his life, and within nearly everything he did. He even had an effect on my daughter, in a way that I had not realised until just a few weeks ago, when she asked me to tell her more about his wondrous travels: why is he going there? does he ever stay home? is he coming back or moving? how does he take these photos from up high?

So many questions, yet I know he never stopped looking for the answers. I won’t either.

I’ll miss him, but I won’t miss the point of his life.