Thank you Richard

I'd normally write this when someone has died, and I can hide from feelings in the moment when the focus shines on others than me, but Richard deserves his flowers now. 

I was afraid this was coming, but hoped Richard was recovering and would be back in the department as soon as he was able. Obviously, there are no magic words to make this okay and make us feel better about losing a colleague and, too soon I fear, a friend. And, I hope I am wrong. I hope Richard will recover and be back to challenge the status quo again. 

I don't know Richard well, but I think of him often. 

There are people you meet and interact with thousands of times and they quickly fade into the background of a thousand other interactions. And there are those you meet a handful of times and you hold each of those meetings close and reflect upon them fondly and often. 

Richards is definitely the latter for me. He always seems solid, stable, certain, passionate and deep. There isn't the wasted energy to force a connection or contrive a sense of belonging. He knows who he is, and he is comfortable in that space. He made me feel comfortable too - and I'm rarely that comfortable around people, especially people I don't know that well. To borrow a cliche - "Still waters run deep". 

All I can I say is: "Fuck". 

I think everyone in the department is of an age that we've stared down the ending of this book - either personally or with loved ones. I think we would all want to know we mattered to the ones who love us and our life's work mattered as well. 

Richard Fredericks' deserves his flowers. He deserves more, but I can't acquire those things. Richard, right now and forever, will be someone I hold close to my memories of VIU. Despite our few interactions he feels like a cornerstone. He is someone who could have offered so much more, but life and circumstance curtailed his gifts. I think a lot of us feel that. We would like to focus more on the work and the students, but our lives and circumstances scatter our demands. 

But Richard, like so many of us, still gave as much as he could. He gave all he could without bending or breaking. I know, right now, there is a student who is influenced in their ways of being, their thoughts and their actions because of Richard. 

Richard deserves his flowers now. 

Thank you.  

And, Fucking fuck. 

Thanks for sharing yourself and your gifts, Richard. 

Random Poetry(ish)

Once I dabbled,

in the history of my own past. 

It burnt me, 

but not too bad.

I pulled from the heat.

I withdrew from sensation. 

I lapsed into dreams and expectations. 

I still dabble, 

from time to time. 

It's my present now, 

and doesn't burn me. 

But the spark reminds me,

I'm still alive.

The compass (a work in progress)

It ends as it begins, searching for the centre. 

It begins as it ends with the placement of the compass's point. 

We all search for meaning. 

We all start from somewhere. 

We all end somewhere else. 

It endures as we understand meaning. 

It endures as we realize truth. 

But, in the truth we are foiled by context and time and perspective,

And our meanings start to grow loose. 

It ends, as it must, in our centre. 

It begins again as the circle completes. 

We all endure as we search and end as we begin and forever continuously create.