October 2: The Day Everything Changed
It’s now been almost a decade since I heard three words that forever changed my life.
“Karissa is dead.”
That was all he said. In that instant, my world collapsed.
The wound that followed was deeper than anything I had ever known. I didn’t know if it would ever truly heal. But like most wounds, it eventually did. What remained was a scar — permanent, visible, unignorable.
And over time, I realized:
Our scars shape us.
We can try to ignore them. We can carry them in shame. Or, we can wear them with pride — not because of the pain itself, but because of what we’ve chosen to do with it.
Climbing Toward Meaning
On October 2, 2021 — the sixth anniversary of Karissa’s death — I hiked up Coliseum Mountain in Nordegg, Alberta. Nature has become my sanctuary on this day, and each year I return to reflect, not on the loss, but on the legacy.
This isn’t a day of grief for me anymore. It’s a day of intention. A day to ask how this scar is shaping the man I am, and how I want it to shape the man I’m becoming.
I didn’t get to choose this scar.
But I do get to choose how I carry it.
Physical Scars, Deeper Lessons
When I was 16, I earned another scar — a physical one this time. A bad car crash in Australia left me with broken ribs, a crushed lung, internal bleeding, and four days in a coma. It also left me with a long scar from my belly button to my sternum.
A daily reminder: You survived. Now what will you do with it?
Scar Stories: From Pain to Purpose
Everyone has scars — some large, some small, some hidden. All of them matter. They affect how we show up in the world, how we relate to others, and how we see ourselves.
Two years ago, I brought this theme to the men’s group. I asked the guys to reflect on the scars that have shaped them. We talked about owning our scars — before they end up owning us.
Because here’s the truth:
“With awareness comes choice.”
And most of the time, the scars that influence us the most are the ones we work hardest to ignore.
A Moment of Reflection at Connect’d Men
At our recent Connect’d Men’s Club, we returned to the theme of scars. One of the guys — let’s call him Joe — opened up about someone he loves who’s going through a hard time. Joe has been showing up for them, deeply invested. But he admitted that the weight of it was affecting his sleep, his peace, his clarity.
He said something that struck us all: “Maybe they’re not making choices that actually help them heal… and I have to learn to let go of that.”
That’s when the shift happened.
No one tried to fix it. We just sat with it. Witnessed it.
Then one of the men offered a metaphor that changed everything:
“Joe, you’re being a lighthouse.”
The Lighthouse: Guiding Without Controlling
That image settled over the group like a still, calming wind.
A lighthouse doesn’t chase the ship. It doesn’t try to control the captain. It doesn’t shout instructions.
It just shines.
It stands firm in the storm, offering light — not direction. Presence — not control. We realized together that Joe had a responsibility to this person he cared about, but not a responsibility for their journey or their choices.
That’s a hard truth for men who have been taught that strength means fixing. But we’re redefining strength here at Connect’d:
Strength is standing grounded in compassion without needing to take control.
Building on Rock: The Scars That Hold Us Steady
The beauty of the lighthouse metaphor is in its foundation.
It’s built on rock. On something immovable. Weather-worn. Scarred by time.
Just like us.
Our scars become the foundation we can stand on if we choose to stop denying them and start learning from them.
And when we do that, we don’t just survive the storm…
We become a light in it.
Questions for the Journey
So here’s where we land — together, in reflection:
- What are your scars?
- How have they shaped who you are?
- Do you deny them? Resent them? Or are you ready to own them?
- What meaning will you give them?
- Where can you be a lighthouse in someone’s storm — without needing to steer their ship?
“For your pain is Rachel’s legacy to you. Not that she or I would inflict such pain by choice… but there it is. And it must burn its purifying way to completion. For something in you dies when you bear the unbearable, and it is only in that dark night of the soul that you are prepared to see as God sees, and to love as God loves.”
– Ram Dass, Letter to Rachel
Your scars are your roadmap.
They point to where you’ve been. They can shape where you’re going.
So ask yourself:
Will you let your scars whisper softly, shaping you by default? Or will you face them fully, and live a life by design?
Maybe today’s the day you look at your scars a little differently.
Maybe today’s the day…
you shine.
