Day 660: Øyvind Vada

TED Talk Øyvind

Today's grateful post is dedicated to my friend Øyvind Vada, who isn't here any more, or at least not in the way he used to be. He died on 21st May. He was funny, mischievous, playful, serious, outrageously driven, creative, experimental, courageous and clever. He believed in people and empowered them. He believed in emergence - the creation of ideas organically, like this - in creativity, and in trying shit out and he was so fiercely full of life, right up to the eyeballs. 

I met Øyvind in January 2010, making and playing masks in Rickmansworth with Steve Jarand. I remember his mask - a big one with presence, like him - and his frenetic pace. In the evenings, when others would be resting or camp-firing (metaphorically, mostly), Øyvind was off meeting people, seeing friends, hatching plans. He'd scoot back in just in time in the morning, having stayed with old friends and squeezed the juice out of the time he had in London. 

Playing with Petter

That masking meeting led to me flitting over to Oslo to work with him, his company Memetor and his fine colleagues Henriette and Petter. I had the pleasure of meeting his very talented wife Anna on my second visit, and his children, Georg and Rakel, all of whom Øyvind was fiercely proud like the husband-father bear he was. 

In your honour, with heads both
bent and lifted.

I didn't know that he was still sick, let alone gone. The last time I'd spoken to him, he'd said he was fine and that he'd beaten the cancer. I was joyful, and not in the least bit surprised. When he was determined, things happened, likely or not. But cancer is... well, it's cancer, isn't it. Sometimes it can be beaten and sometimes it takes even the strongest away.

I'm feeling his loss and he was just a small part of my life, but he inspired me and made me laugh, impressed me with his will to do things and make things happen and his belief in his work. I feel deeply for those for whom he was a daily occurrence. If your missing of him matches your love for him, then I wish big, strong, singing hearts on you to carry you through the lack of him in living form. He left so much behind. 

Today, just after his funeral was held in Oslo, I held my own little ritual to say goodbye. I took these flowers to the Ladies' Pond, because it's the most peaceful, loving, nourishing place I know. I sat and said some prayers and gave my thanks for a good man doing good things in the world. As I did, the wind swirled and whipped and made the sun play peekaboo from behind the clouds. Some of your energy touched me then, my friend. 

Emergent heart

Men are only allowed in this heavenly place once or twice a year, but Øyvind, you can visit any time you like. Thank you for being a small but powerful part of my life. May there be more like you; may the part of you that is still your essence bring as much love to wherever you are now as you did when you were here and may that part of you that's a drop that slips back into the ocean enjoy dissolving and being part of that great emergent flow. Big love to you, sweet man. Go well, and with flowers and mountains and clean air. May you find yourself held within the heart of this flying flock. Whenever I see starlings, I will think of you.