Turn me back into that wild haired gale

My heart is heavy with sorrow, as I learned that my friend Timothy Morris is quickly passing away from an aggressive form of cancer. He was diagnosed last week, and has only days left at this point. Today (Saturday) my friends back home are paying their respects to Tim as he celebrates his last "Thanksgiving" with his parents and partner, Maryann.

We have shared so many good times over the years: snowshoeing and berry picking adventures, countless yoga potlucks, bike rides with wigs, and even a delirious road trip to Skagway Alaska last summer. His bright spirit, stunning smile, and contagious giggle will be in my heart forever.

For those who know Tim, Maryann has created a Caring Bridge blog and guestbook. This is a place to find out updates on his condition, post your thoughts and feelings in his guestbook, view pictures, etc. https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/timmorris/

Life feels like a movie lately- like I am watching myself move through waters and try to stay afloat. I go to shows and networking events and feel like a silent movie version of myself. I don't think anyone has noticed....but I certainly see I am not myself. I think of my friends back home constantly. Tim's passing is shaking all of us to our cores.

I am realizing more than ever the importance of really living every minute to the fullest and loving wholeheartedly. I spend a lot of energy worrying about the future and closing myself off to conserve energy and heart space. Some of this is an important part of self-care, but much of it is a pattern that doesn't serve me or anyone else.

It is bizarre to be in such an exciting place in my own life, while also witnessing great pain in the lives of those I love most. Beautiful things are unfolding quickly in Austin, and I feel like this is where I need to be right now in order to take care of myself (and by doing so, better serve the world and the people around me.) I am struggling with guilt. Part of me feels like I should fly back to bellingham immediately so I can do something. A bigger part of me realizes that there is nothing I can do to make this better. I can love my friends and be there for them, and plan a visit home that is healthy for myself also.

I hold my dear Bellingham family in my heart.