Virginia Hiriskos, Robert Blackmore and Fluff-Ball

1. I woke up very very early with a splitting headache. It was strange because I felt like I had a hangover, but I hadn't drunk much last night. The bedroom felt claustrophobic and the air seemed stale. So I got up around three am and checked through my email. In amongst the spammy stuff, two posts stood out from the same source about a couple of people I know pretty well.

The first was news of my dear sister Virginia Hiriskos who passed away last week in California. She was 75. She was one of the first RHB's I ever met. I was just 17. She was very savvy and sophisticated and from California. She always had a wicked smile and sassy laugh. She was incredibly realistic and true. I haven't seen her in many years. I was sad for Jim, her husband, but very happy to have known her and to have had the privilege of being taught by her in the early days of Arica Institute Trainings in London back in the early 1970's. It was a time in my life of spiritual exploration and growing up and Virginia was one of the people who inspired me to see the world differently and I did and do. Thank you beautiful Virginia.

2. The second was news of my old friend Robert Blackmore who has been diagnosed with prostate cancer. Now this bloke and I were once pretty close and we had fun. I met him at a New Year's Eve party in Chelsea at Tom Salter's house in Neville Terrace in the mid 1970's. We walked from Chelsea to Robert's flat in Waterloo at the end of the celebrations probably a bit worse for wear from drink and singing and whatever else we did in those days. By the time we got to his house we were definitely friends. Over the years Robert has transformed from a East End wide boy to a very conscientious and generous supporter of Arica Institute in Upstate New York. I was lucky enough to visit with him a few years ago when I was in New York just in the months leading up to my divorce. I was in a rotten state but Robert was kind and funny and every bit the happy little bloke he was that first new year's Eve night. I wish him the very best with waves of Love.

3. Back to work after a week away could have gone better and worse. Mostly it was pretty ordinary. But there were highs with lows inside them. My colleague arrived having lost her cat over the weekend in sad and traumatic circumstances. She was able to tell the story with tears in her eyes but with a vivid sense of her love and appreciation for a lost fluff-ball friend. I think there was something special about that moment, we don't often get to share that kind of emotion and I appreciated her kindness and openness. As the morning went on she was able to tell the story quite matter-of-factly, which is as it should be. I can write about Virginia and accept calmly the gift she was to my life and I'm sure many others. I can think about Robert and wish him the best and good recovery. I can share the feelings with my friend about her loss. I am full tonight, I don't find adequate words to explain, but it is as if there are just a couple of drops to go before the glass is overflowing...