Loss and Connection

No words.

That's what two of his longtime friends and allies tweeted.

The loss of Robin Williams feels collective and deeply personal.  In his life and with his death, the thread that weaves us together as humans is felt more deeply today than most days.

Much can be said about depression.  We study it, we work with it, and today, with the help of technology, we can even see its imprint on images of our brains.  Often, we can loosen its grip on our hearts, freeing those of us dealing with it to live our precious lives again.

We are in life together.  Those of us alive today have been fortunate to share some of our time here with Mr. Williams. 

He helped us feel the ripples of our human connection.  We never met him, but we all knew him as though he were a friend.  We feel lucky to have palled around for a while with a man so hilarious, talented, and humane.

Mr.  Williams' acts of kindness, compassion and humanity, expressed both privately and publicly, say a lot to me about what kind of man he was between performances.  People who knew him as a neighbor and father called him a "mensch," meaning "person of integrity."  He both loved and did for others.  Among the stories told about him this week, please listen for these.

We should never underestimate the power of simple acts of kindness that cultivate our connection to one another.

We live in a demanding and driven world.  It can be hard to stay clear about what actually matters, for each of us.   Who or what do we care about?  What can we do about it?  It's easy to get fooled into believing that no matter what we're doing, it's not enough, or it's not good enough.

But what if each effort we make, in the simple direction of what we care about, actually counts?
What if it really, truly is Enough?

Today, in Robin Williams' memory, I offer this poem:

"Forget About Enlightenment," by John Welwood

Forget about enlightenment. 
Sit down wherever you are
And listen to the wind singing in your veins. 
Feel the love, the longing, the fear in your bones. 
Open your heart to who you are, right now, 
Not who you would like to be, 
Not the saint you are striving to become, 
But the being right here before you, inside you, around you. 
All of you is holy. 
You are already more and less 
Than whatever you can know. 
Breathe out, 
Touch in, 
Let go.'