The families and friends of these three good people have all learned to cope with their loss in their own ways since that awful day in 2009. One of the ways that Kirby Brown's family chose was to found a nonprofit organization, SEEK Safely, to help educate the public, hold self-help leaders accountable, and hopefully avoid more deaths and injuries at the hands of reckless gurus.
And another way they found to come to terms with Kirby's death, while helping many other people who are dealing with profound loss and pain, was through a recently published memoir, This Sweet Life: How We Lived After Kirby Died, by Kirby's mother Ginny and her baby sister Jean.*
Back in June of this year, and then again in July when I observed the 11th anniversary of the death of another Ray follower, Colleen Conaway, at a Ray event in San Diego, I promised to post a review of This Sweet Life "soon." Anyone who has been following this blog for a while probably knows that on this Whirled, "soon" is a relative term. Multiple distractions have been whirling around me since I made my promise, but it's time to make good on my commitment.
Accordingly, I have begun to write that long-promised post. It deserves more attention than I am able to devote to it today, but rest assured that "soon" is now coming sooner rather than later. [Spoiler alert: I really, really loved this book, though more than once I had to put it aside for a few moments because it's quite difficult to read when your eyes are full of tears.]
For now, I can't think of a better day than today to highlight this lovely but heartbreaking memoir, and to urge you to buy it and read it if you've not done so already. Here's that link again.
James Arthur Ray continues to struggle on the comeback trail (or "scumback trail," as I like to call it) years after being released from his far-too-short prison sentence for the deaths of Kirby and James S. and Liz. These days, thank goodness, his audiences are still far smaller than they used to be. But his efforts to portray himself as a hero/martyr who has walked through fire and come out strong and triumphant are an insult to the memories of those he killed, and a slap in the face to their loved ones. That's why it's important that as the years go by, we never forget who he really is, and what he has done.
* I used the Amazon link for This Sweet Life because it was the most obvious. But I must add that I HATE it that Amazon is currently also promoting Ray's book about "redemption" as an "also-viewed" title; James Arthur Ray wouldn't know redemption if it spread its legs and sat on his smirky face. But Amazon (almost) redeems itself, so to speak, by also listing Connie Joy's fine book, Tragedy in Sedona: My Life in James Arthur Ray's Inner Circle, as an "also-viewed" title.
Related on this Whirled
- October 2010: Musings on a tragedy and its meanings.
I published this on the one-year anniversary of the infamous "sweat lodge," framing my musings around a review of Connie Joy's Tragedy in Sedona. - April 2019: From drawn-and-quartered martyr to "Crisis
Coach": James Arthur Ray's newest desperate gimmick
This is just one of numerous posts about Ray's arrogant yet pathetic attempts to reestablish himself as a selfish-help superstar. - August 2020: Whiny babies of Scamworld
Of the three "whiny babies" I wrote about in this post, James Arthur Ray is the worst, because even after being directly responsible for the deaths of three people in a bogus sweat lodge in Sedona (not to mention being at least indirectly responsible for the death of one person at an event in San Diego, and directly responsible for the physical and emotional injuries of countless others), he continues to paint himself as the real victim.