Perhaps 10 years back, I found myself in a small pub in the beautiful city of Kyoto, Japan and was introduced by the bartender to another English speaking westerner.
As we worked our way through introductions and reasons for being in this area at that time, I discovered he held the same spiritual background as a friend back home in Halifax.
I mentioned that casually and as he discovered that my home was in Nova Scotia, he began elaborating in an incredibly articulate fashion on the origins of Steve's arrival in NS via this Shambhala family he valued so much.
He still did not know my friends name, but that came up next. And of course, yes he knew him. Not just knew of him, but actually knew him. Having met in the west of the U.S., and even once hiking with him some 30 years back.
It was a significant portion of what turned out to be an incredibly enjoyable three hour chat.
I walked back to my hotel that night and thought about Steve. Not in the way I am thinking about him now. Then, it was lighter.
It was along the lines at marveling, smiling at the life experiences he had, the risks he took, the lifestyle he committed to.
I have been dropping in as a regular to Steve's java hut for at least 15 years, but it was only around this same time frame - say ten years back - that I found that either Steve or I, or possibly us both, opened up and began to chat in more personal detail.
We both jogged and on occasion got to a park and found ourselves diving into some very interesting conversations that carried some real weight with me, post run.
His sense of adventure truly blew me away. It inspired me, even to my own surprise and I looked forward to the mornings when he would be in the shop and smiling, asking how a weekend run went. Then telling me of one of his own as well as his most recent aches and pains.
It's difficult when an everyday presence is removed this way. I hope that everyone who cares for Steve knows his legacy does remain.
My best wishes are with Steve's family.