Colin Ellar passed away on Friday, July 17, 2026. He was one of Chögyal Namkhai Norbu’s earliest students, as well as a historic Gekö of Merigar and a member of the Red Gakyil. His family, friends and the Merigar Gakyil share their memories of him.
My father Colin Ellar by Jason
75 years feels very short
One thing that makes me happy is that this man fit 150 years worth of life between 29 November 1950 and 17 July 2026.
I can tell you the headlines that most people know:
- He was born in Paddington hospital to a single mother
- And grew up in a small terraced house, in a working class town called Murton, in Co. Durham, where everyone worked down the mine.
- It was a hard start to life
- In the 60s he found music. Starting to play in working mans clubs with friends and then moving down to London
- He worked as a professional musican for 10 years
- Then found the teachings and spent almost 10 years as a student of Norbu Rinpoche here in Italy
- He met my mum at Merigar and they lived here for 2 years until I came on the scene and we moved to Amsterdam
- In an unexpected turn, he became passionate about Local government and became a councillor in 1998
- In his 20 years in public life he was leader, deputy leader, mayor
- He helped countless people and communities through his casework and policies
- In this time the community and teachings were still important to him, and we spent many a school holiday doing Karma Yoga in Kunselling or summers driving down to Merigar for retreats.
- Amongst this he had stints as a cycle mechanic in san fran, operations manager, glow stick seller, nuclear lab technician, assistant to a member of parliament, twice Geko, stage manager and a million other things I didn’t hear about yet.
I’m very proud that my dad fit so much into the short 75 years. But these headlines and achievements won’t be the things I’ll miss.
I’ll miss the small things:
I’ll miss driving in the car and listening to music.
I’ll miss the way he’d used his shirt to scratch his back at the end of the day.
I’ll miss the way he could talk to anyone at great length about his cat, or the tomatoes in his garden, or the new bike someone was thinking about buying, even if it didn’t seem like the right time to do it.
I’ll miss the way that he was always simply himself and never seemed uncomfortable anywhere or with anyone.
And I’ll miss the feeling I have knowing he’s on the end of the phone if something goes wrong and I don’t know what to do…
I’ve been reading about grief this week, and I read somewhere about the difference between grief and sadness.
Sadness is an emotion, you feel it and it passes in waves.
Grief is what you feel when you lose a part of yourself. A part of your identity, and part of how you see yourself in the world is missing, and it will always hurt.
And I think as a boy, losing your dad is hard because you lose the foundations that you built yourself on.
Some things I knew about already, music, politics, your stubbornness. You’re gone, but those will always be there in me.
But something has changed now you’re gone and I don’t know how to describe it. Just that things somehow feel shakey, less safe, more exposed.
Last Sunday, your body spent the last hours in the house that you loved so much, and we carried you out through the garden, which I think was your favourite place in the world. We drove down that road from Arcidosso to Grosseto for the last time.
By the time I got home it was dark, and as I walked down the path *pang* *pang* *pang* the lights came on.
Your lights, that you set up, guided me home.
This is the dad you were. Lighting up the path. Letting me go ahead, but always in the knowledge that you were there.
Now your light is out. It feels dark without you, but you taught me enough that I can keep going on my own. And will do my best to keep the lights on for whoever comes next.
Celebration of Colin’s life by his wife, Yvonne Zuiker
Colin was my husband and companion in life for 37 years. His unexpected sudden passing came as a shock and I will miss him terribly.
He told me he would have liked to have lived for another 5 years to finish the house, enjoy the fruits of our garden with me and our cat.
Colin was always Colin, I’ve tried to call him “My love”, “Amore” but nothing stuck. I always referred back to Colin. Even our son Jason as a small child called him Colin and not Dad or Papa. Also here in Italy they called him Signor Colin and not Signor Ellar.
Colin knew everything. He was all knowing and wise. He was able to answer complex questions about the teachings and also when the door handle came off, how best to fix it.
He was multi-faceted, multi-talented. He was very good at fixing problems in the moment. He has been a musician, bike mechanic, English teacher, care worker, politician, Geko at Merigar twice.
Colin, I have enjoyed my life being in your presence. You were able to calm my mind by simply touching, holding my hand. I will miss you. I will carry you in my heart forever………..
Memories of Colin from Sergio Quaranta and the Merigar Gakyil
I met Colin during Merigar’s early years. In the Zhikang—which we simply called “the capannone” (the shed) back then because that’s what it actually was—there was a professional woodworking machine. The “capannone” had in fact been originally designed to house a carpentry shop where our young practitioners with those skills could work—for Merigar, and also to create sources of livelihood. Rinpoche strongly emphasized the importance of practitioners coming together in work cooperatives, for their own benefit and for that of the community as a whole.
Colin was an accomplished carpenter and one of the practitioners who worked there. Many of the wooden structures still in use today at Merigar were built by him; in particular—something Colin cared deeply about and of which he was justly proud—he had built the interior furnishings of the Master’s retreat cabin himself.
Years later, Colin returned to England, pursuing a political career that led him to serve as a councilor for one of London’s boroughs. In that role, he was the driving force behind many projects whose underlying purpose was to help people and respect nature, and to speak about this, we invited him to Merigar for the 30th-anniversary celebrations. The festivities included, among other events, a series of lectures called “Friendship Meetings,” in which our practitioners and representatives of the Amiata community addressed various topics with a view to sharing concrete experiences. On that occasion, Colin presented the topic “Support for Minors in the British Public System—Youth and Children: How the British Social and Health Care System Supports Education and Social Relationships,” as part of the series of lectures compiled in the section “The Path of Kindness.”
The richness and spirit of community that characterized that experience deserve further exploration; Colin certainly made a valuable contribution.
Upon retirement, like other practitioners, Colin moved with his wife Yvonne to La Serra, in the Amiata area. Colin and Yvonne had purchased a home; nevertheless, when asked if they would like to serve as Gekos at Merigar, they accepted and moved—kitten included—into the Yellow House, returning to their private home only on their days off.
We were truly grateful for this decision, which certainly wasn’t easy for them. As Gakyil, we enjoyed an excellent relationship with Colin and Yvonne, and Merigar benefited from their care and kindness.
Unfortunately, at one point Colin became quite seriously ill and had to focus on his health. He overcame his illness, and although this had required a great deal of energy, Colin ran for the position of Red Gakyil, which had become available in the meantime.
Over the past two years, we’ve met every week for our meetings. Colin didn’t speak much; he listened and participated with great presence. Often, when positions on certain topics were quite controversial, we would ask for his opinion, and his responses were always balanced, respectful of everyone’s views, but above all, mindful of the consequences our decisions might have on the Community and on the practitioners directly affected.
Almost always, his perspective opened our eyes and helped us make wiser decisions.
We closely followed the final months of his new illness; we saw how he always faced the trials he encountered with great dignity and acceptance—I would dare say with the grace of an English gentleman, which is exactly what he was. We would have liked him to have stayed with us a little longer…
Sergio and the Gakyil of Merigar (Fabio, Giuseppe, Kirian, Simone, Michela)
A Tribute to Colin by Berica
Colin was one of the first people I met when I came to Merigar in 1982. He helped me get started on the path of teaching, and it was both helpful and enjoyable to follow the Master together.
It was a shared journey that defined our relationship, built on mutual understanding and support.
Then one day, the Master married us, along with other couples who were together.
After that, our relationship changed, though it retained the same intensity, affection, and closeness.
Warmest regards, Colin. It will be very sad not to see you anymore, but I take comfort in the fact that you have reunited with the Master and are continuing your journey of spiritual evolution.
