The day I turned 50, Robin Williams’ spirit left the earth plane.
Significant milestones, in significantly different ways.
When we forget, life reminds us. It’s a world of opposites. Everything is cyclical.
It’s like flipping a coin. Heads you win; tails you lose.
Someone celebrates. Someone mourns.
A day of color and the glitter of happiness for some. A day of heaving sorrow and funereal black, for others.
Life and death, part of the same continuum.
It makes me think how every day is marked by deaths and births in our own lives. Our cells die to be replaced by new ones. Old projects die. New ones are born. We bury ideas and concepts that we’ve outgrown, and open to fresh possibility.
Nature is our best guru in this regard. Decay and death make way for rebirth: shoots of fresh green life. The tides of the sea are in a rhythmic state of ebb and flow. The sky is ever shifting and changing.
And so, as we mourn a beloved actor and fellow human being, we also remember. He is born again. Somewhere. His spirit has moved on to create a new version of him.
When you gaze at the night sky and spot a shining star, whisper: “Robin, is that you?”
And maybe, just maybe, that star will wink at you.