Circles

The world is big until you start living in it. Then, each day, it gets smaller. It is the people that make it smaller. A man without a friend is just an animal. But with a friend, he is a friend, as well as a being of multitudes and complexities. Each place I go, each person I meet, brings me closer to what I am here to do: enjoy. Each new friend offers me a piece of themselves for me to add to myself. I am a person built by those around me; as are you.

As I walk down a random neighborhood street in Nashville, TN, a man calls out my name. My head turns quick with anticipation. Startled, at first, I was relieved to see the man with a smile on his face and a hand reaching out to meet mine. A friend with him did the same. From people I had never met at the beginning of the weekend, turned into mentors and leaders by the end. The world got a little bit smaller.

My family and I visited Nashville to celebrate the life and art of my late cousin, Luke Bell. His death has stuck with our family for a long time. Luke’s death would make a religious man curse god, and an atheist pray to bring him back. Some things just aren’t right. Though we get in our own way from time to time, we have the power to see the trees turn yellow as cold air runs over our cheeks, and recognize why that is beautiful. We have to power to sit by the river and watch perspective change in real time. Luke’s death has offered a lot of new perspective; and is still carrying influence in community, change, and good ass music. His death has changed how I live. And I wish my death does not stop my life, but carries it on.

When Luke moved to Nashville, he found community through music. Though this community is a beautiful one, it is full of pressure, movement, and a lot of work. As an outlet, Luke found his way into a karaoke bar called Santa’s Pub. The cigarette smelling, beer drinking, sound of country music was a nice change of pace from the rest of Nashville’s country bars. And at the foundation of the bar, was Santa. Santa and his pub became a safe place for Luke, one that we all might need.

After Luke died and I was able to visit Nashville myself, my brother and I were drunk leaning on the end of a bar. A long night of drinking and loud music had us curious. As we started talking with others, we met a group of people that brought a level of stillness to the chaos. A nice change of pace walked us right into good conversation. The conversation of who’s and what’s lead us to find out that the man we met was Santa’s grandson, Riley. The world got a little bit smaller.

What started at the bar took us back to Riley’s house, where we all sat around in good company. As the sun rose, Riley invited us next door where his grandpa, Santa, lived. It felt speacial to meet a man that I have heard of in such high regard. And even more so because I knew he cared for someone I did too. The world got a little bit smaller.

Though Santa was not in good health, and conversation ran quiet, we shared smiles and handshakes. We shared vaunerability and laugher. That’s life. Or that’s what it should be at least.

After the long weekend, as my brother, mom, and I got back to Wyoming, we received a call from Riley and his girlfriend, telling us Santa had passed that morning. Life is beautifully coincidental and brutally unlucky. Pains my heart to see good people go, but I am confident Santa and Luke are sharing a cigarette and a beer listening to good music on a cloud somewhere, and that makes me smile.

The world is small.

Sometimes by Luke Bell