Thinking of Mike now, what I remember is his broad and wolfish smile, his easy laugh. The brilliant way he would muck about in Tesco's as we were shopping for the Abbey courses. Pretending he couldn't reach things on the upper shelves, or that stuff was falling on him. There is nothing better than a wise man who knows how to be silly.

How generous and calm he was, how easy to be with. I can see him in my mind's eye, tall and upright, striding through the Acupuncture Centre. Or sitting with the paper in the back room comfortably drinking coffee. Easy in himself.

His patients all adored him, obviously, as did the students who came after. Those early courses, at the end of the 90's, where he sat so happily around the table, eating and chatting with the group, are what I think of when I think of him. How fully he inhabited what he would call "the bliss of being ordinary".

I can hear his sonorous voice, see his jumpers and moleskin trousers. Remember his steady and remarkable hands. I am sure there are scores, if not hundreds, of babies who would never have come into the world without his subtle skills.

Ah Mike. He lived so well. Such a good man. I am so glad to have known him, a little.

May the seasons of your grief be gentle. He will be remembered by so many, with love and gratitude.