I don’t often write on current events, nor do I ever plan to.  But the sudden passing of actor Robin Williams has impelled me to the page.

Not too long ago, I reflected on some of my favorite films and noticed a running theme – more than half of them featured Robin Williams.  From Dead Poet’s Society to Patch Adams, Good Will Hunting to Hook, there he was.

What was it about him?

For me, above and beyond his arsenal of comedic gifts and the brilliance and diversity of his roles, was the way he made me feel.  So much so that I dedicated a paragraph of my I AM Blueprint (my version of a resume) 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 possibly offer.”

Robin Williams was special to me because of his indelible ability to combine 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 exclusive force in charge of sustaining his 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 into the masses, from the front page to the Middle East, instead of persistently reminding our planet’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.  That it’s never time to pass judgment (“Oh yeah, well he was a druggie,” says the restaurant worker about 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.

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!