My dad would have turned 88 this past Saturday.
While the most salient connection with 88 to me is the number of keys on a piano, it has some numerological significance to abundance and prosperity, if you’re into that kind of thing.
He was my biggest fan and most ardent supporter.
It's wild to think it'll be 9 years in September since he passed.
As his son, I reflect on how children are a kind of living legacy.
For the next while, I would like to pay that forward, honoring his spirit.
He was an outstanding model and exemplar of encouragement, curiosity, passion, and delight for conversation.
To be like the sun, like the Cancer he was.
Solar. Generous. Nurturing.
The sun does not ask for anything in return -- it simply shines its light.

And while it’s true there’s a duality to the sun’s light — the same rays give both lifegiving heat and desiccating death, it is a kind of grace in that there isn’t really anything we can do to pay it back – we can only pay it forward.
So here's a limited-time experimental offer, in the spirit of the sun and my father.
Unlike the sun, I acknowledge my limitations as a mortal – though I suppose even stars die, eventually.
Let's shine together, for just a little while, and see what happens.
I'll put my calendar link in the comments, and let’s connect for 15 minutes.
Do you need another perspective?
Some encouragement?
Some expert advice (in qualified domains)?
A conversational dance partner with whom to untangle an existential knot?
Some space to be held?
To simply share the silent spacious joy beyond reason in mutual recognition of our true nature?
To quote A Course In Miracle:
"To spirit getting is meaningless and giving is all. Having everything, spirit holds everything by giving it."
Leave a comment, book a spot, and let’s connect.
Here's my calendar link to connect. https://calendly.com/taiquinnwhyte/15min
"The sun does not ask for anything in return -- it simply shines its light." I loved this. And you know I'd book a slot on your calendar every day, my friend. :)
Happy birthday to your late dad. I got to know a little about him from your stories. He must have been a fantastic human being.