Celebrating David Bryant's Laughter and Life

David Bryant

What do you call a magical dog?

A Labracadabrador!

Thank you David for the laughter, love, and such hearty support.

David died on Friday, February 5, 2021.

I got a chance to dance with David… not his Argentine Tango… rather my ecstatic dance. He came to Asheville, and we danced and danced and danced. My friends here took an immediate liking to him, as did I when he showed up for our circle calls.

His love of dance took on new enthusiasm after that day, as he would tell me years later. I’m glad for that. He certainly touched my work and life in so many ways. And that continues.

It’s been rare in my life to have emotionally available men. It’s been even rarer to have men that actively supported my work in the world. David behind the scenes would open EVERY SINGLE EMAIL I SENT. He’d comment about what he knew mattered to me, even if it was between the lines.

He shared generously: His time, his energy, his talent, his enthusiasm, and his treasure. With a recent donation he said he really wanted me to feel how much support there is for what we’re co-creating here.

I include this here because for things in life that require courage… it really helps to feel like we’re not in it alone, that someone sees and knows and cares and puts the energy WITH us. David was one of the key vibrational leaders who have done that with me over the years. It’s a sacred role, and I’m wet eyed tuning to the many, many times he seemed to show up when I needed just the kind of boost he could give.

There’s so much more. I feel drawn to pause here for others of us to share here or in their private hearts a smile, a tear, a memory of David.

But before that, I want to share another joke, because that’s something David would like – and this one gave him a big laugh when I shared it with him a long while ago:

How many ears does Captain James T. Kirk of the Star Trek Enterprise have?


His left ear, his right ear, and his final front-ear.

Love you Dave! :heart_decoration: :peace_symbol:


Oh shit…this is sad news. :cry: I loved having David as part of the circle and I loved his smile and his enthusiasm and his humour. I’ll miss him. My condolences to you Rick and to the others who have known him and loved him much longer than I had a chance to. RIP David.


Dave visited me on a Sunday in 2014. We tapped together on a Thriving now call. It was fun.

I remember all those Thriving Now calls that Dave and I co-created together with Simone. Dave showed us all a special way of breathing that helped us to relax. I am sure it is somewhere in the recordings.

Dave was my first “tapping buddy” and in the beginning he would do the tapping. One day he suggested I tap for him. I balked a little saying I didn’t feel like I’d do it right. Dave suggested I try so I did. Even though I stumbled, stuttered and forgot the points he encouraged me to continue. “You can do it,” he’d say, “use your intuition, don’t think too much.” Finally after a few weeks I found myself doing better with his excellent coaching. I am grateful for his patience with me and his help.

Dave wrote a book of poems called Noticings. It is free right now on Amazon. These are wonderful, emotional, heart-felt poems.

I will miss Dave and as a friend, fellow tapper and his funny jokes. I’m not going to say RIP Dave because I believe he’s soaring with the angels and exploring his new energy space. Someday we will meet again. Until later my friend :heart:


I never met David in person but I remember hearing him on the phone recordings with Jean and others. I think he spoke about his love of gardening and his partnership with his wife. I think he also talked about being a therapist?Then I had the pleasure of seeing his smiling face and cool headphones on our zoom circle calls. Like Rick, it has been rare for me to find such an emotionally available cis guy. David modeled healthy masculinity, sent me kind notes of support in chat, and gifted his presence to my pain. I will never forget that kindness and strength and hope to be like him some day.


I love this pic of you two. Sending hugs to you.


The death of anyone close to us is always a form of salutation, a simultaneous good-bye to their physical presence and a deep hello to a more intimate imaginal relationship now beginning to form in their absence.

~ from CROSSING THE UNKNOWN SEA by David Whyte

When I first joined Thriving Now, Dave was facilitating calls along with Jean and Simone. He gently helped me tap into and BE with several difficult and painful situations with such understanding and love. I don’t think I had any emotionally available men in my life until Rick and Dave and for that I am eternally grateful. He also introduced me to the Hawaiian practice of reconciliation and forgiveness called Ho’ oponopono (to put things right). Thank you Dave, your warm presence, love, understanding and sense of humor will be with me always :smiling_face_with_three_hearts:


Thank you Dru, I am glad I have it. It was so nice meeting and visiting with Dave.


Thanks for ALL the support and encouragement David!


I signed on to check the calendar and saw this notice. I never met David in person. I also remember the calls he co-hosted. I noticed he had not been on recent calls ( at least not on the ones I have been on) and missed him.


When David visited me, I showed him a funny saying I had on my mirror. He laughed so heartily that I asked him if he would like to have it. He was delighted. Since I had another copy, sometimes in the beginning or end of a call he would hold his up and I’d hold mine up too and we’d all laugh. So here is another wonderful and funny way I remember dear David.


Dear Rick - I didn’t meet this wonderful human being but I feel the loss and thankfulness in my own life and work, too. Someone dear - who cheered me on and opened all of my emails - passed last year.

Just wanted to say - how wonderful to have these radiant spirits, these gifts of friendship in our lives and how hard to see them go.

Love to you in your loss,


Just saw this, and didn’t realise that he has left. I don’t really know him, but I do feel his emotional vibration and presence during the thriving now calls. Sending my condolences to you…


From David’s Obituary:

David Bryant

David C. Bryant shifted his love for life from body-aware it to source-aware, at home February 5, 2021 in the best possible of circumstances.

Joyously birthed on November 8, 1937 by Verna Mae Easton Bryant, lovingly fathered by Charles Clyde Bryant.

David grew up during World War II gleefully drawing fighter aircraft and floor plans for dream houses. One of his first proud moments was to be chosen to be an AAA Safety Boy, with badge and white cross belt, holding out young arms that guarded when it was not safe to cross busy Allen Road in Allen Park, Michigan.

After serving overseas for three years in the US Army in the early 1960s, David entered the University of Michigan’s Rackham School of Graduate Studies, which he found both attractive and irritating all the way to PhD. He learned gratitude after being “let go” from the local university, and entered the real work world as a project engineer at Newbrook Machine Corp. in Silver Creek, N.Y. for a few years. Then for several decades he was active in restoring many architecturally significant commercial and apartment buildings in Dunkirk and Fredonia with partners David Palmer and John Bankosh. During that period he was a member/ officer of numerous non-profit organizations in the Dunkirk and Fredonia communities. He was especially devoted to the Fredonia Rotary Club.

In his mid-sixties, divorcing after 39 years, David met and gratefully married Lucille Marie and set off on new paths: certifications and practices in clinical hypnotherapy and EFT (tapping), working particularly with veterans with PTSD; writing poems that were collected and published in his mid-seventies. David’s eighties were filled with loving and meaningful connections with ever-so-many open, warm-hearted, sensitive souls that filled out his life day by day both in person and by Skype/Zoom. He is forever grateful for all those trusting connections.

Predeceased by his mother and father, David is survived by his talented and generous teasepot and loving wife, Lucy; his son, Samuel David Stuart (Sharon) Bryant of San Diego, CA; three wonderful step-daughters: Julianne (Erik) Mason, Michelle (William) Reimer and Anne (Joseph) Hermanek, all in the Chicago area; step- grandchildren: Elena Mason, Nate and Elizabeth Reimer, Joe Hermanek, all of the Chicago area, Thomas (Dana) Mohring of North Tonawanda, NY; and a sister, Karen Smith of Vancouver, B.C.

No prior visitation. A celebration of Dave’s life will be held and announced at a later date.

In lieu of flowers, please be generous to The 1891 Fredonia Opera House Membership & Giving | 1891 Fredonia Opera House. Online condolences may be made by visiting larson-timkofuneralhome.com.


Thanks for posting this Rick. I really loved learning more about David and his adventures. I’m happy that I got to know him a little before he moved on.


This made me so happy to read… amidst the missing him.


I found out recently from a friend of Dave’s that he wrote this obituary himself, which is so fitting.

I miss Dave. He reached out to me several months go when I first showed up in the Circle and offered to tap with me for as long as I found it useful. I tapped for him as well, which helped give me confidence that I’m capable of doing that for someone else.

Dave was like the father I never got to have, and it was far too brief.

He was generous, supportive, encouraging, warm and kind. I never met him, yet it felt like he always had my back. I could always reach out to him if I needed help, and I did, a couple of times.

I think I’m missing him more today because it takes me awhile when someone dies. At first, you just saw them recently. Then, it’s a longer time and you know you don’t get to see them again, at least not in this life.

Thank you, Dave. You are very missed.


As I read David’s obituary I had a strong feeling he wrote it himself. I think that’s a great idea and he did a wonderful job of it. That’s really great that you took the opportunity to get to know Dave a bit and do some tapping with him. Even though I know better I still seem to behave as if we’re all just going to go on being around forever. So when someone is gone it’s a shock and an important reminder to not take anyone or anything for granted. Tomorrow is not promised. RIP David.


One of my greatest challenges is to find that “sweet spot” between embracing the mortality of my body, the eternalness of my Whatever-I-Really-Am, and the preciousness of this Now.

The saying, “Live today like it was your last” is filled with way too much stress for me. David seemed to embody the dance of “Live well, laugh often, love much” – and I can feel the Lineage of Presences he brought to my life and ours.

I feel that with my children, especially my young ones. I don’t think I’m someone who has taken time with loved ones “for granted.” And I’m choosing to not hold the energy of “this could be our last moment together!!!” Dear Goddess, not that.

What I’m seeking, and David’s death (being the first Circle death in long memory) brings forth is the preciousness of a Moment.

I’ve even started including a section called Moments in my daily record, to respect that a Moment is precious and worthwhile – even if it the moment of a child regurgitating their lunch and being met with laughter and love and clean-up. Moments.

Love you David. Love Us All.


Thank you!!

You’ve reminded me that some years ago (30? 20?) I came to a realization that all we really have are moments. That life is lived in moments. Life is experienced and felt in moments. Moments might be the most emotionally, experientially accurate measurement of time we have. How many moments are there in an hour? One? Seventeen? A thousand? All of the above? A ridiculous question that highlights the fundamental nature of the experience of real somatic/emotional time measurement. Seconds and minutes and hours and weeks and months and years and centuries are externally imposed…moments are where we live.


Yes I also felt Dave wrote his own obituary. I remember this came up on a call a few years ago, about writing our own obituaries.

I am glad you got to know Dave too. He was always so supportive and so good at teaching too. He seemed to know what we needed intuitively too.

Yes grief does take time and can hit hard. :two_hearts: