Relationships: A Pathway to a Meaningful Life

I swallowed heavily.

“He didn’t make it,” cried my friend, fighting through tears over the phone.

I hung up and sat in silence, choking through my own tears. He was gone—my dear friend, mentor, and elder. Never again would we sit in his little apartment on Somerset Street, having tea, reciting poetry, and discussing philosophy. Never again would he give me his gentle prods of encouragement, as all good mentors do; never again. All would be but memories in his and I’s story.

Filled with tears, I couldn’t help but think how crazy it was that I was supposed to visit him in two days. He called me earlier that week.

“How are you, Barclay?” I said with enthusiasm as I picked up the phone.

“Nice to hear your voice, my boy.” He replied to me. “Honestly, Adam, I’m tired.” His tone was weak, but despite that, it still had that spark of life he always had. “I’d like to see you soon,” he added.

It was Tuesday at the time, and he invited me over for Friday. But I was working on an “important” project, and it seemed tight to squeeze in a visit that week. So I replied, “Well, how does next Tuesday sound?”

We agreed, shared a joke, a little chuckle, and I went on with my week.

But Tuesday never came, and it never would…

The Event

“Thanks for letting me know,” I said to the friend who called to bear the bad news. Then, I hung up and buried my head in my hands trying to make sense of it all. Then what happened next was a strange series of events that appeared to be orchestrated by some divine intelligence, or perhaps, even the spirit of my mentor himself—one last farewell and teaching for me.

It was a Sunday evening when I heard the news. I was on a break for the final hours of weekend work training. While it was difficult to carry on, I managed to gather myself and make it through. When it was over, I hopped into an Uber and made my way home through the cold fall evening.

That’s when it happened.

Scre-e-e-e-ch! Crash! The car shook like a bone-rattling earthquake. Screams sliced through the November night sky. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Is everyone ok!?!” Calls came from outside.

In a daze, I looked around. Bright flashing lights came in a fury. Sirens sailed through the distance; touching my head, it throbbed like fire, sore from slamming against the back seat. But despite that, I felt okay.

Turning behind me, I looked through the window and saw what caused the damage— a speeding BMW that slammed into the back of our car. I climbed out the door and ran to the vehicle to see if the driver was okay. The smell of oil punched me in the face as I raced towards it. The two cars were crushed and looked as if giant fists from the sky had come down and pounded them. I was grateful to be alive.

“Are you okay?” I exclaimed to a young man in his early twenties sitting in the driver’s seat. He didn’t look at me, and instead, just shook his head and shouted through the airbag.

“Oh f**k man! F**k! F**k! F*uk! F*ck! Fu*k!!!F**k!!!”

Physically, he seemed fine but was emotionally and mentally distraught—no doubt considering the consequences of his actions.

I yanked the battered door open, and he pulled himself out.

Police officers had arrived at the scene, and I shuffled to the sidewalk to give them room to access the situation.

Looking at its severity before me, I shook my head in disbelief. Glass, plastic, and debris spread across the entire road. Cars piled up on both sides, Horns honked wildly, and sirens screamed red through the night sky. Two yellow fire trucks poured into the scene, and then ten or so uniformed emergency workers dismounted and assessed the situation.

“Are you okay?” one of them asked, eyeing me head to toe.

As you can see, while their language and approaches may be slightly different, essentially, each process has similar elements—a witnessing presence (not attached to the story) and consciously feeling and releasing. I like how Byron Katie adds “Love” to the equation, as I feel it is a supportive ingredient to face those uncomfortable feelings.

Just as the loving attention from a friend when you are having a hard time can offer additional support, bringing the energy of love to the witnessing process of the old emotions can be an added resource when facing these old hurts.

Despite the wreckage outside, miraculously, I was fine and would be able to walk away with nothing more than a few minor bumps.

Satisfied, he nodded and said he would ask the paramedics to do a more thorough check when they arrived, then he was off.

Standing in the cutting cold, surrounded by the wreckage, I knew that life was trying to tell me something; I knew that somehow, this strange event, only an hour from my friend’s passing, was somehow connected. “But what?” I thought.

Then, looking at the young driver shaking his head at himself from the damage he had caused, the larger metaphor life was trying to teach me, dawned on me.

The Lesson

The young driver was a lot like me at the time. So focused on speeding to where he wanted to go, he failed to see what was around, and in turn, hurt himself, and the people about him. I saw how I could be like that, tunnel vision, so focused on reaching my goals I failed to see my surroundings. Because getting to the destination and “fast” is what mattered most; as such, a little ashamed to say, but at times, people were seen as obstacles that kept me from my list of to-do’s.

There were even times when I’d be interacting with someone, and if I was feeling scarce on time, rather than being present with them, I would unconsciously project myself into the future and what I “needed” to do next; I was constantly in a race. And by living with this mentality, like that young driver, I was speeding by and cutting people off. But really, the biggest person I was cutting off, was myself. Cutting myself off from one of life’s greatest gifts.

What wisdom did my friend and mentor want to share with me that Friday he called me over? Would he have graced me with one final insight for how to live a good life? Or maybe he would have shared a story he wanted me to pass on to others. Or perhaps, even greater still, we would have simply sat in silence, laughed, and shared one last smile together… Perhaps. But, of course, this is all but speculation, and truth be told, I will never know Barclays last wish for me. Such was the cost of how I was living my life.

As they say, hindsight is 20/20, and looking back at the last days my friend spent on the planet, had I had another chance, I would have done it much differently. Sure, I was “busy” with obligations and responsibilities. But despite that, I most certainly had time to put my projects and plan aside for a few hours to spend a caring visit with a dear friend.

It’s true that life gets busy. But it’s never too busy to take the time to care for someone, to say hello, and to show your love. Because there is always time for that, and if we think we really don’t have the time, it might be wise to reorganize our priorities. At least, that’s what I discovered that evening. I believe it was my friend’s final farewell, the last great piece of wisdom he wanted to share as he left this world. Relationships matter; Make time for them. Prioritize them. Work on them. Celebrate them.

Because, at the end of the day, a good life comes down to right relationships. But you don’t have to take my word for it. You can look at the longest scientific research study done in history by Harvard University. For 85 years, researchers followed men and women from all over the world, some were wealthy, some were poor, some had a positive upbringing, and others had a more challenging one. But despite the diverse demographics, and society-economic backgrounds, the most consistent finding in the study for what made for a happy life was, not wealth, achievement, or even physical health, no, the most consistent finding was that positive relationships were the foundation of a happy life. It even helped them become healthier, and even live longer. Yes, relationships matter.

Perhaps that’s why in the Lakota tradition, they live by a philosophy known as “Mitakuye Oyasin” (pronounced Mee-tah-koo-yay Oy-yah-seen), Which translates to “all my relations.” This philosophy highlights the awareness that life is all about relationships. That you and me, despite our distance, are intrinsically interconnected. We stand on the same earth, and how you and I treat it affects the world around us. Everything is related. So in turn, we are all connected.

But the question is, how are we relating to life? Are we cut off? Lost in our heads, busy with the next thing we have to do? Or are we connected, present, and relating to this moment and the people and things around us with kindness, care, and love? If we want to live a good life, it starts right here, right now.

So with that, I pose a question to you:

Are there any areas of your life where you are placing your goals or projects above your relationships?

Is your focus on your destination taking away the beauty of this moment?

If so, I encourage you to pause, breathe, and notice those around you and find a way to let them know you care. Note, this does not simply need to be for the “close” people in your life, but all creation, your dogs, your cats, your neighbors, your grocer, the stranger on the street, and even the trees you walk by on your way to work. Remember, “Mitakuye Oyasin.” We are all related. And if we feel disconnected, it’s simply because we are not consciously connecting to life around us.

And if you are finding it challenging to connect to those around you, you can start by relating to yourself with the love you’d like to receive. If that seems difficult, the loving embrace of nature is another great source to connect to. A walk in the woods, gazing at the night sky, or even connecting to a plant in your home can work wonders for the soul. All we need to do is breathe, get out of our heads, drop into this moment, and connect with the life around us. Because, remember, relationships matter.

Living this way is not always easy, especially in our culture where we praise productivity and equate it with our worth. With this, there is an incessant pressure to do, do, do, without much room for being. But it is possible.

Since my friend and mentor passed, for some time I have worked with shifting my mindset from this cultural non-stop hustle mentality. In the process, I had many moments where I was tested and many moments when I failed to be there for the people around me. But there have also been many beautiful moments when I succeeded.

Even in the midst of writing this story the first time, five years ago, I nearly ignored spending time with a dear friend because I was so focused on finishing it. The second time I picked up this story to edit it (five years later), my wife came into my office and “interrupted” me. I could see my past social conditioning pressuring me to push through and “get the story done,” but thankfully, after working with this challenge for a while, I closed my computer, smiled, got up, held my wife, and touched her pregnant belly. To think that I would have missed that moment because I was so task-oriented seems so crazy to me now.

Sure, it’s taken me much longer to write this story than I planned. One week in fact! Despite my careful planning and early morning rises, there have been many “interruptions,” like the call to catch up with my mother to see how she’s been, and the chat with an old friend in Florida, the unexpected visit with my grandmother, and the time I spend my Saturday morning in the community garden 20 minutes from my house.

Sure, these “interruptions” may have cut my writing time, but they didn't cut me off. On the contrary, they connected me to all of life, and in turn, made this story all the more beautiful. Because that’s what relationships do.

So, as you move through the hours, days, and weeks ahead, I encourage you to consciously make time for those you love, reach out to those around you, and connect with your relationships. And if you feel you are too “busy,” I hope you can remember the mistake I made the week my friend passed, and remember what really matters. Relationships.

Mitakuye Oyasin

With love,

Adam