Al Rush and the 10 of Vessels
It’s been just over 12 years since Al Rush died. He was the manager of the Kingsway Theatre when I worked there in my early twenties. Today when the Twitter @Weiserbooks Book Club asked us to ‘listen to the ghosts of our own past’, it was Al’s voice I heard.

“Stupid hoodlum teenage bastards.” That’s what he called all the employees, myself included. Probably not such a positive motivational technique but we loved him anyway. He wasn’t interested in being a role model and I don’t think any of us confused him for one. At least not then.
Within the context of the book club (and time), I’m thinking of him now as an ‘ancestor’ – he was here first and left before I have. He lived in all the cities I did before I even visited them, and as far as my ‘career’ goes, he ended his where I started mine.
In Kissing the Limitless (the book we’re reading for the book club), T. Thorn Coyle suggests we write a letter to our ancestors to ask for direction on our journey. I started writing a few letters but they were all too sappy. Al would have just laughed at them. So I decided to pull a card instead.

I think it’s a message about love, each vessel representing a different soul bubbling and sharing with the soul around it. As everyone plays and works together without overflowing, overheating or exploding, we create a magical golden tincture – liquid love.

Al was a great friend of mine long past the time we worked together. He taught me a lot, mostly about living fully and loving people as wholly as you can without judgment and with as few expectations as possible. And I think that's the message he sent with this card.
I miss him a lot but was happy tonight to think about him. Here’s a big glass of liquid love to you Al! Cheers!
If you’re on Twitter – please join us at #WB1.
2 Comments:
beautiful post, g! what a lovely way of remembering ancestors...
I must echo Raven's comment because I was so moved by that post. It's not possible to be on the planet for long before we experience the pain of our mentors departing. This is a wonderfully simple way to keep their wisdom alive. Thank you for sharing something so deeply personal.
Post a Comment
<< Home