Every now and then the universe takes pity on my and sends
someone to smack me upside the head with a clue-by-four. It doesn’t matter what you call it—a message
from God, The Oneness, Wisdom, whatever you’d like to call it…but it is always
a message that I dearly needed to hear , full of profundity and gravitas.
Today was one of those days, and the source of the message
was none other than one of the customers I speak to on a daily basis for my
job.
Customer: “How’s it going, Nik?”
Me: “Oh, you know, livin’ the dream, bro. Livin’ the dream.”
Customer: “There’s nothing wrong with that, so long as you’re
living up to the eulogy you want given about you at your funeral.”
Me: “Woaaaah….”
I didn’t even know where to go with that…I had to excuse
myself from the phone and promise to call him back because there was no way I
was going to have the ability to focus and process his order while I had the
perfection and the depth of that single statement sinking into my soul.
Live up to your eulogy.
My eulogy…what would that look like? Who would give it? Would they feel like they
had to lie about me, or exaggerate my personhood to make me sound better than I
was, or even to represent who I thought I was?
Would they be able to speak the truth with confidence? Would they know the truth with confidence?
I posted about it on Facebook, wanting to share the
brilliance of this statement with my friends and family, and a dear friend
replied, “So…what do you want to have said about you?” I had to reply honestly that I didn’t
know. And to be honest, I still don’t
know all of what I would like someone to say…but I know some of what I think
the important bits are:
Nikki loved fiercely and without limit and accepted people
for who they were, not who society said they should be.
Nikki loved to travel and never found a place that couldn’t
be called home, or people that couldn’t be called family.
Nikki desired to help people live their best lives, and
partnered with many to create positive, healthy change.
Nikki stood for civil rights, equality, social justice, and
compassion.
Whether through writing, photography, music or conversations
over pots of coffee, Nikki tried to give birth to new ideas, new perspectives,
new connections, and new growth in the world.
Nikki was slow to anger and quick to help, hugged tightly,
kissed slowly, danced awkwardly, spoke with assurance, thought rationally,
acted passionately, and looked for reasons to say yes rather than no.
Nikki is survived by countless brothers and sisters baptized
with the desire to see a new community born of collaboration, unity, and the
philosophy of Ubuntu, god-children from coast to coast, and partners in love,
art, and music.
So there you have it.
For now, that’s what I envision the highlights reel of my eulogy looking
like…I doubt if I died today that any of that could be said with any certainty,
and even though I know life is fragile and fleeting, I plan on living long
enough to make as much of that as true as possible.
Now the question goes to you—what would you like YOUR eulogy
to say, and how can I help you start living up to it?
