Scott Lesher's Completely Unintentional and Probably Fabricated Legacy to Me

"Kathy, what happened to your friend with the eyes?" (Indicates location of eyes with hands.)

"He died."

"How soon after that day?"

"He died a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh. You know it's really important to do a full body scan. Every single morning. First thing when you wake up, do a full body scan."

"Ah."

"Check in. See what's going on. It's really important to do this. You know?"

"I guess if you're afraid of dying."

"It's not about fear of dying. It's basic maintenance. Taking care of yourself."

My friend "with the eyes" was Scott Lesher. I met him towards the end of winter at Jack's Corner one night when I was having dinner with friends. He had quite a fire in him. A delightfully mischievous anarchist perspective. I could tell immediately that this was a man I needed to know.

Scott Lesher would come to Planet Care every so often to buy water and agave nectar. I gathered that he frequented the farmer's market to buy whatever food products he could not raise himself in his backyard. He'd talk in an enthusiastically sardonic manner about the state of the world. He always made me think and pretty much always made me laugh.

One day Scott came in to Planet Care looking not-so-good. The whites of his eyes were neon yellow. Clearly there was something wrong. He sat with me during my lunch break and we enjoyed a spirited conversation. Then one of the Planet Care regulars approached our booth with his lunch and asked if he could join us. Scott and I are a lot alike in that we never met a stranger. So this guy joins us for lunch.

The guy who joined us is a bit of a wing-nut. He comes in every day and collects plastic buckets from food service for the purpose of storing food. He ferments food and stores it up for the coming economic meltdown or apocalypse or institution of martial law. He's convinced it's coming. And he's hurriedly gathering his supplies out of fear. But he would call it self preservation.

I've thought a lot about this self-preservation thing. Because when I was diagnosed with cancer, I radically changed my diet. I did Bikram yoga three times a week. I spent my entire tax refund on a naturopath who sold me a dozen or so supplements that I had to take on a very precise schedule. Living in good health suddenly seemed important. But it was the fear of cancer that made it important where it never had been before.

Less than a week before Scott Lesher's death, he took a 90 mile motorcycle trip. This would have been on a Thursday or Friday. On Sunday, he went out into the country to shoot guns with a friend. His friend told me that during the drive out to the country, Scott was making plans for the future. He spoke of property, a farm, that they needed to get their hands on. He spoke of getting a mobile home.

Sunday night, he went into the hospital. Wednesday morning, he died.

People who were closer to him than I was said he was in complete denial of his impending death. I saw him in the hospital the night before he died. I wondered how this could be the case. He was skin and bones with a swollen abdomen. He didn't even look like Scott anymore. I could not imagine how he had the energy to ride 90 miles on his motorcycle a few days earlier much less how he could deny the obvious deterioration of his body. I still can't wrap my brain around it.

I've decided that Scott was so focused on living that dying just didn't enter the picture. He was the master of living fully in the moment and projecting only positive creative thoughts into the future.

That's the way I explain it to myself.

Scott's passage was a great loss for me. He was a vibrant, intelligent, creative and radical muse. I looked forward to getting to know him over time. He used to say to me, "We need to get together and play some music! Come over to the house!" And I'd say, "I know! We need to do that! Time's a-wastin'!" I had no idea just how quickly time was a-wastin'.

I never went over to Scott's house to play music. It's too bad.

The lesson that I've garnered from this situation is that I want to be like this mythological Scott, who believes so firmly in living life fully that death is not an issue. This is not the same as imagining one's immortality. Rather, it requires one to focus exclusively on the present moment, to embrace the myriad opportunities that present themselves in each passing second, and respond from a place of integrity, spontaneity and creativity.

"It's really important to do a full body scan. Every single morning. First thing when you wake up, do a full body scan."

Only if you're afraid of dying.

A one-legged man came into Planet Care, bought a gallon of ice cream, took it into the cafe and ate the whole carton. He then bought another gallon and ate it too.

I love him.