I honour my friend Tim
with 7 wisdoms he taught me (including, Do you want to be right, or do you want to love?)
I mentioned a few posts back that I lost my dear friend Tim. It’s been a big and powerful few weeks as the loss settles in my spirt and in my heart. Many of you here have been so kind with your comments of concern - thank you.
If you’ve read my two most recent books, or followed my writing here and elsewhere over the past 15 years, you’d be familiar with the influence he has had on me. Tim Brown was my meditation teacher, then my life adviser, then my very close friend and confidante. I quote his wisdoms ad nauseam and you might be familiar with this refrain that begins many of my chapters and posts: “My meditation teacher Tim once said …”.
I’ve reflected on this a lot the past fortnight - Tim was “there” for every book, every big project, every turning point and tumultuous upturning in what have been the most difficult and expansive years of my life. He supported me with fostering, often taking one of them for a few hours or the night when I needed a break. In our last text exchanges he told me to keep being wild, to keep living out the painful stuff “because we live through your stories, Sar”. This was always what he told me - to keep going as me. He never delivered me the cautious, conservative advice. He encouraged my looseness.
He’s also been there for me when I didn’t think I’d make it, when I couldn’t see a way through my dark times. It would not be a stretch to say I’m not sure I’d be here, writing this today, if it weren’t for him.
It has been a different kind of grieving process, being on the other side of the world from Tim’s family and the community he built back in Sydney. In many ways the distance has allowed more time for my grief to unfurl at the pace best suited to my nervous system and outlook. I’ve worried I’ve not fully gone into the pain of the loss yet. I’ve felt a little numb and perhaps too ok. But there is no right way to do grief. I’m also aware that the particular spiritual perspective that Tim and I shared on death - and life - has informed my feelings.
It’s somewhat out in the open now - Tim took his own life. I accept Tim’s decision. I feel that he knew I would. This has helped me process things. I also feel him with me, especially when I meditate.
I have felt the need, however, to honour Tim and and his contribution to this life in my own way. Next month I will head to the Alps to hike and write. This feels the right place and way to go to the necessary, gritty places of the loss.
I’ve also felt it important to pull up some of the wisdoms he shared with me and, by extension, you. The guy bloody annoyed me often. We had altercations. He insisted on writing LOL as “lots of love” when I told him repeatedly it meant…Oh, all of us here know what it means! I had to tell him to step down off us “guru pulpit” at times…which he always said he appreciated (bless him). But goodness he gave good, sound wisdom. And a shit tonne of unconditional love (because I was a hard friend to love at times!).
I’ll do this wisdom sharing via some extracts and clippings from First, We Make the Beast Beautiful and This One Wild and Precious Life, with some context if required.
“Ha! Meditation will help with that!”
Context here: Sky was my therapist when I was editor of Cosmopolitan.
“Water the root to enjoy the fruit”
