Memories, Milestone and the Search for Meaning

Memories are such interesting animals, aren't they? There are memories that we allow our minds to visit on a regular basis because they spark joy in our hearts. There are also the memories that we try to stuff in a box and lock away, either consciously or unconsciously, because they are too challenging to take a look at. Over the last few years I have gotten a great deal more brave at looking back at some of the less joyful memories in an effort to allow myself to feel all the feels and process any unresolved pain or trauma that might be associated with those memories. It isn't easy work, but it can definitely lead to a previously undiscovered level of healing. 

On that note, last week would have been my late friend Richard's 70th birthday. For those of you who are newer to my stories, Richard entered my life unexpectedly and filled a lane that nobody had ever really filled in my life prior to his arrival. Over the two and a half years we traveled the path of life together from September of 2011 until April of 2014, Richard became an elder, a brother, a spiritual teacher, a cheerleader and so many other things to me. He masterfully officiated our wedding in August 2013 and then six months later on April 9, 2014 he made a swift exit by having a massive coronary. He left behind a long list of devastated friends, co-workers, regular guests and a very broken hearted version of me as I was about to turn 50 and on the threshold of existential crisis. 

Lately I have been thinking a lot about the day that Richard died. I still remember sitting with Richard's body in the emergency room at Weiss Memorial hospital on Chicago's north side for hours, not wanting to leave and face what the world looked like on the other side without him in my life. When I did eventually leave, I took the pink elastic "I Love Shakespeare" bracelet off of Richard's wrist and wore it continuously until it became to worn and brittle to continue to wear on a daily basis. 

The immediate days after Richard's exit were filled up with the business aspects of death, such as notifying mutual friends and coworkers, planning a memorial and writing a eulogy. I had not delivered a eulogy since my father's death in 1997, so the prospects of standing in front of a room full of grieving people was a bit unsettling to me, but in the end, the act of doing so was my first step on the path to the next iteration of self that was waiting to be birthed from within. 

Richard's early and sudden exit sent me on one of the most significant hero's journeys of my lifetime. It is a journey that is very much still in process, but when I look back at some of the milestones that have been crossed along the way, I can't help but notice how far I have traveled on a road that I might have otherwise never found if Richard hadn't left his body.

The first stop on that journey was an Infinite Possibilities (IP) conference later that year in August of 2014 where I met dozens of people who remain in the inner circle of my life. The only reason I was even at that IP conference was because my wife suggested that I needed to find something to light a spark in my life again after months of deep depression. 

A few months after that conference I started my own men's community which at that point was called the New Moon Men's Circle. Richard's absence in my life had left me craving for deeper connections with men that could fill a lane that was once again vacant in my life. Being a part of a number of men's communities and moderating my own Water of Life Men's community continues to be a huge part of my life. 

A month after the IP conference, my wife and I made a spur of the moment decision to travel to Ireland to celebrate our one year anniversary. We both felt called to make some sort of special pilgrimage and the seize the moment energy was flowing strong for us at that point. On that trip we made connections that would pave the way for us to lead a spiritual retreat in Ireland the following year where we visited numerous sacred sites with a group of traveling Americans and native Irish adventurers. 

The impact of delivering Richard's eulogy combined with my strong desire to grow my skills as a speaker and teacher led me to my first ever Toastmasters meeting the very next day after our original trip to Ireland. I was instantaneously hooked and two weeks later found myself on stage delivering my icebreaker about how my wife and I found my great-great-grandfather's childhood home in a little fishing village called Ringaskiddy in County Cork, Ireland. Toastmasters became an enormous part of my development as a speaker and as a leader. The clubs I have belonged to through the years have created community for me. Toastmasters has also led me to tap into my role as professional speech writer, public speaking coach and now as ghostwriter to a personal memoir project. 

A few weeks after returning from Ireland, I also leaned further into the my new vocational path by taking on my first paid coaching client. At my wedding the prior year, my co-best man Kregg got up in his speech and noted that to most of the people in attendance, Jim was their de-facto life coach. I had never heard the phrase life coach and my name together in the same sentence. I took note of what he said in the moment, but I never realized that it was actually a calling until I went through the trauma of losing my mentor Richard in such a dramatic fashion. 

On the one year anniversary of Richard's passing in April of 2015, my wife Christiana and I traveled to Chartres, France to fulfill Richard's wishes of having his ashes spread at the Fluer-de-Lis cross behind the cathedral. Richard had always told me that Chartres was the place on this planet where he felt closest to God and he begged me to go there with him someday. I find it impossible to describe the spiritual significance of that journey in words, but suffice it to say that my awareness that the spirit energy of another being never leaves us if we keep it close became crystal clear on that trip. I also can't help but notice that Richard, who always seemed to manage to get his way, managed to get his wish of traveling to France with me, even if it wasn't the way he originally intended. 

While were on that trip to France, Chrstiana and I found out that we were going to be invited to be presenters at the upcoming Infinite Possibilities conference in Ventura, California that summer. That would have been exciting enough on its own, but we also found out that Mike Dooley had been asked by Hay House to record the conference and put together an online certification program for future Infinite Possibilities trainers. So in July of 2015 on my 51st birthday, we were part of the team that recorded for Hay House and we became a permanent part of the IP community. 

I could go on and on about my week long stay at The Abbey of Gethsemani in silent retreat with Trappist monks to leave a small portion of Richard's ashes at Thomas Merton's gravesite. Or our visit to Chimayo, in New Mexico to collect the holy dirt that Richard always gave to people as a gift when they held a special place in his heart. Or the fact that my co-host for the It's About Life Podcast is a woman named Deb Frischmon who I met at that first ever IP conference a decade ago and has gone on to become one of my dearest friends in this lifetime. There are countless ways in which Richard has influenced the path of my life since his exit, and the best way to take notice of those influences is to look back at them with time and distance as a reference point. 

If you had told me back on April 9, 2014  as I sat next to Richard's lifeless body that eventually I would find meaning in his untimely death, it would have been impossible for me to fathom. Sitting here today, it is impossible for me to not notice that much of what I have become and so many of the experiences that have shaped me, are a direct result of Richard's passing. 

A couple of month's back I wrote a piece about finding meaning in grief. If you missed it you can go back in your inbox and look for the title The Many Faces of Grief or shoot me a message and I'll send it to you again. In that piece, I noted the work of David Kessler who is considered one of the world's foremost experts on the topic of grief and loss. Kessler worked extensively with Elisabeth Kübler-Ross who authored the original book that outlined the five stages of processing grief and loss titled On Death and Dying. More recently, Kessler has posited the theory that grief and loss is a never ending process that can unfold in no particular order, but eventually leads to a sixth stage which he identifies as Finding Meaning. 

Let's face << Test First Name >>, everyday life can be exceptionally challenging right now. There are times when it can feel impossible to find the meaning in the hardship you are currently facing. In no way am I suggesting that you should try to bypass the emotions or the minimize the pain of a specific loss of any kind. What I am suggesting though, is that you take some time and lean into the memories and milestones in your own life and search for the meaning that has emerged from the challenges you have already moved through. By doing so, you might just be able to able to convince yourself that this too shall pass, and when it does, it will leave behind a wisdom for you to tap into as you move forward on your own hero's journey. 

That's all for this week. Thanks for making the time to follow along with my thoughts and reflections. The next edition of The MindSmith Academy is almost here. You can visit my website for more information about that and any of my other programs for individual, group or men's work. If you or somebody you know might be looking for mindset coaching, mindfulness training, communication skills development or spiritual guidance, please reach out. There are numerous ways to work with me both for short term situational life guidance and/or long term coaching support. 

P.S. I'm also excited to announce that I will be training to become a facilitator with a fantastic men's community called MenLiving. Stay tuned for more information about that in the weeks ahead. 

Peace and Blessings, 

Jim