It’s been one year since the sudden passing of actor Robin Williams.
In the days following his death, I was driven to the page in a way I’d never been before – an emotional and personal release for myself. That’s it.
Today, I’ve had a change of heart. Here’s what I wrote and am now willing to share…
Not too long ago, I reflected on some of my favorite films and noticed a running theme – more than half of them featured Mr. Williams. From Dead Poet’s to Patch Adams, Good Will Hunting to Hook, there he was.
What was it about him?
For me, above and beyond his wide-ranging comedic talent, and the brilliance and diversity of his roles, was the way he made me feel. So much so that I dedicated an entire paragraph of my ‘I AM Blueprint’ (that’s my version of a résumé) to the imprint his genuineness had on me:
“I’ve never watched and felt an artist as emotionally bold and deep as Robin Williams. His vulnerability and gentle spirit connects and expands my heart in a way that I can’t seem to explain. As though a glimpse into his soft and harmless eyes is a window to the purest, most kind qualities a soul could offer the planet.”
Robin Williams was special to me because of his indelible ability to mesh the hilarity of the mundane with the tender of the humane. The beat of his valve appeared to be plugged into some sort of divine outlet of both humor and heart that even he could not define… or defy.
And yet despite his palpable sentimentality of pulling us into his characters, his internal topography proved too wide a doorway. As though his DNA was incapable of feeling a lie – that the force responsible for sustaining such an existence was subject to the Truth, the whole Truth, and nothing but the Truth.
Would it be politically incorrect of me, then, to link the departure of such a vibrant light to the incessant ignorance of our world?
That we’re far too committed to our Facebook status and pumping a soul-zapping amount of fear and immaturity to the masses, from the front page to the Middle East, instead of persistently and consistently reminding the Earth’s inhabitants that We Are One, and each one of us, overt or not, is a delicate, beautiful, and irreplaceable piece of the human pie.
Would it be a bit too cliché and preachy to repeat that life is fragile?
That hugs and daily acknowledgment and “I love you’s” never go stale. Or the fact that you matter…. A LOT…. to someone, somewhere… for no particular reason… just because.
I say these things not to imply that a man was not loved or could’ve been saved. He clearly was and did his best for as long as he could. I’m also not naïve to the severity of depression or unfamiliar with the basement of sadness.
I say these things to prompt a shift in consciousness.
That where we place our energy is where our world will be. @tjolwig (Click to Tweet!)
That it’s never time to pass judgment (“Yeah, well he was a druggie,” says the restaurant worker upon hearing of Robin Williams’s death), and never not the time to live mindfully, gratefully, and on behalf of our Light.
Just this past year, my brother had a unique moment with Robin Williams in L.A.
On his way to a baseball game, the car he was in pulled up to a stoplight. As he looked over, Trevor noticed that Robin Williams was the passenger in the car next to theirs. Robin looked at Trevor, smiled, and winked with a subtle sincerity. In Trevor’s words…
“There was an incredible recognition between the two of us in that very short moment, almost hard to describe. In seeing him, I felt like my heart could have exploded into tears. I’ve had a lot of magical experiences in my life, but this was of a different world, as was his heart.”
Did my brother or I know him personally?
Nope, we need not to.
Recognition requires no such formalities for you cannot measure its reach. It’s a surfacing of the glow we all entail that can’t be limited to a hello or handshake.
Recognition knows… because it’s always been.
God Bless your place in eternity Mr. Williams.
And may God bless the Fullness of you.
T.J.
***
Of course, no Robin William’s conversation is complete without a rush of blood to the heart.
Here are five one-liners from five heart-opening scenes of his:
Dead Poet’s Society (1989)
What will your verse be?
Patch Adams (1998)
If we’re going to fight a disease, let’s fight one of the most terrible diseases of all – indifference.
Good Will Hunting (1997)
It’s not your fault, Will. It’s not your fault.
Aladdin (1992)
Genie, you’re free!
Hook (1991)
Oh there you are, Peter.
What are some of your go-to Robin William’s scenes? Have you learned or felt anything from him (or anyone else for that matter) that your soul just seems to click with? Share your story in the comments below!
T.J. Olwig is the writer and creator behind the blog Keepin’ It Light, what he calls an “opportunity to live consciously.” When he’s not writing, you can find him in a coffee shop, yoga studio or on the road. Currently, he’s traveling the country with his yellow lab Gus and Betty White (that’s his car). The goal? To play fetch in all 50 states. He calls it “Fetch in 50.” You can follow him on Twitter, IG or FB.
Image courtesy Tristan Reville.
