Here we have Maya Gebala and her father David.  A photo probably taken last year – definitely not after February, 2026.  That was when Maya was shot in the head by a school shooter in Tumbler Ridge, British Columbia, Canada.  She’s been in hospital in Vancouver since that day.

At first doctors didn’t think Maya would live.  Now she may be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.  But who knows?  The future is immense.

Yesterday Dad posted on Facebook:

I think we just saw one of our first intentional smiles! 😍 My beautiful baby girl, there you are ❤️

In all my months of cheering Maya on, I had never seen her smile.  But there was a glimmer of one in David’s video!  I cried.

Here are some responses from the internet:

She did!  She smiled!  Oh now I can’t stop smiling!

Wonderful! 😍 Many of us have been praying for this moment.  I’m moved to tears.  Way to go, Maya

This is just simply the most amazing thing in the WORLD

You can see the smile coming on her face ❤️

She is in there!!  Yes Maya!!!  Yes!!!!!!

Wonderful.  Your smile will brighten up the world, sweet Maya

Keep shining bright!

Be still my heart.  l have been waiting for this day.  Her whole face lit up.  I just love her to bits

***

And so …

Our mouths influence other mouths

They’re made for each other.  When love is present, the one that moves naturally flows to the one that stays.

***

We see the beloved

A moment of life touches us

The beating under the skin feeds us power

We feel the beauty of our country

And again the dear one …

Yesterday was the women’s final of the French Open tennis tournament.  It is a “Grand Slam”, one of the four most important competitions.

Mirra Andreeva of Russia defeated Maja Chwalinska of Poland.  Maja wasn’t high enough ranked to get into the tournament.  So she had to play three qualifying matches, and then six more to reach the final.

Both Maja and Mirra are heroes for me, not because of their tennis exploits but because of what they said after the match.

Gracious in Victory

“Of course first of all congrats to Maja for these amazing three weeks, passing through qualies, winning so many matches,” said Andreeva.  “Beating so many great players, congrats to your team as well.”

“You guys have done an amazing job, amazing work.  You are a very tricky opponent.  I would not want to play against you one more time!  I wish you the best of luck for the rest of the season and I hope we play many more finals together in the future.”

Gracious in Defeat

“First of all congrats to Mirra.  You’re such an incredible player.  You’re so young and talented, it’s so annoying 😂😂😂.  Congrats to you and your team for an amazing job.  I wish you all the best for the future.”

“I wish you could see a better match today, but Mirra was just too good for me so I guess it’s her fault,” Chwalinska said laughing to the crowd during her finalist’s speech.

***

Smiles, laughing, appreciation of the opponent

It’s called “we” rather than “me”

What the world needs

Perhaps I’ll say it once more, just for fun:

I did it!

I sang ten songs on the Langemunt, one of Gent’s shopping streets.  After winding down with a coffee, I had a bus to catch – a 40-minute ride to get my hair cut.

As I watched the passing scenery, I felt myself loosen, even on the edge of collapse.  The body was saying “That’s enough for now, big guy.”

My hair was really long, and my hair stylist is very popular, so it felt irrational to skip the bus and head back to bed.  So a-bussing I would go.

I got off in the nearby community of Evergem, with a 15-minute walk ahead of me.  Make that a stumble.  I had given a lot.  There wasn’t much left.

And then it happened:

I pooped my pants

(Sigh)

I won’t go into detail but I’m sure you can imagine.

It was a liquid and smelly journey to the hair salon.  As I walked in, I told Joyce the truth.  She gave me a towel to sit on.  I thought it would help to wash my hands in the bathroom but further hygiene adjustments would have to wait for home.

The thrill of my singing was fresh … along with something else.

Forty-five minutes later, I was a new man, as far as the top of my head was concerned.  Another walk led to another bus ride, full of human beings.  Each had a nose.  (Sigh again)

After a thorough clean-up at home, I contemplated the rest of my day.  I had agreed to sing at an open mic session in the evening but I felt like playing the “tired” card.  They’ll do fine without me.

But something propelled me to go.  Our usual venue was closed for construction.  Our alternate site was the terrace of a café.  When I arrived, there were at least 100 people enjoying the evening breeze, crowding around lots of tables.

About ten of us sat at a round table for the performing – drama, poetry and singing.  The background conversations were loud!

My body said “Don’t sing” but some other part of me stood up.  I sang two of the songs I’d sung on the Langemunt – about humanity’s future, and about a lost love.

I sang them with gusto, and with a high volume, despite our table being surrounded by others.  Was I insensitive to the needs of other human beings?  Yes.  But it sure felt good!

***

So … it was a day!

Up.  Down.  Up

And soon thereafter my happy head faded away on the pillow

I did it … ten songs.  I’m proud of myself

There was a lot of tossing and turning in bed last night.  Would I do well?  Would I mess up?  Would I be happy either way?

From 9:00 am on, I sat in Lloyd Coffee Eatery, alternating between moderate terror and a sense of peace about it all.

At 10:30 I started walking to my concert venue – Eyes + More optician on the Langemunt.  I said hi to Aude and Virginie and tried to have them calm me down.  They did their best.

Lift off for my voice was scheduled for 11:00 am.  At 10:50 it started raining, pretty hard.

And my mind roamed around the thought universe.  A main one was:

I can’t sing in the wet.  It’ll ruin my microphone and amplifier

There was a spasm of delight in this: I can go home and pull the covers up to my neck once more.  However, that urge comes with the fact that my moment of breaking through, of doing something for the first time, is merely postponed.  Sort of like an exam being cancelled.

At 9:55 the torrent went from all to nothing.  Just wet pavement.

I nodded.  I put the amp and mic stand on the street, grabbed the connecting cable, turns things on … and sighed.

This is the moment

Lots of people on the Langemunt, all apparently rushing to the next sale.  The woman employee across the street gave me a sound check.  Virginie and Aude offered a thumbs up.

And I was off … starting with “It’s About Time”.  I introduced it to the moving masses this way: the world needs far more “we” and far less “me”.

The last line:

It’s about you and me together … and it’s about time

I smiled.  People floated across my field of vision.  And then it was on to the next … “Loving Her Was Easier”.

This is a love story that was, and is no longer.  The yearning for yesterday

As I rolled through my set list, I received a few smiles, and the occasional person pausing for a few seconds.  Actually, many folks seemed more taken with my sign than with my music:

I don’t want any money.  Thank you

Virginie and the woman in the store across the street said they enjoyed the songs.  I didn’t see Aude at the end.

I packed up and went for a coffee with myself.  It was a soft sitting, just starting to grasp what I had done.  I sang beautiful songs from my heart.  I got the lyrics wrong four or five times, but truly who cares?  I don’t even care, which is very cool.

***

Tomorrow I’ll tell you what happened next … because right now I don’t have any more words to share with you.  Time to rest.

“Be a mature human being, Bruce.  Don’t be nervous.”

Those words come from somewhere deep inside me … and deep inside my society.  But they don’t ring true.  The request, even a demand, to “be better” is false.

Tomorrow at 11:00 am I sing ten songs on the Langement, a shopping street in Gent.

Saturday at 11:00 am I have a two-hour exam for my Music Theory class.

I experience both as huge challenges.  Will I forget words on Friday and concepts on Saturday?  The answer that comes is …

Probably

However:

Will I still be vertical at the end of it all?

Will my heart continue to beat?

Will happiness still be available?

Yes

Today I will practice the songs and figure out how to adjust the amplifier knobs.  I will study rhythms, pitches, scales and musical styles.

And as a friend said about his own exam:

All will be fine

And if it turns out not be to fine

All will be fine

A friend of mine is a student at U Gent and is immersed in study for his exams.  I’ll call him Jérome.

Two days ago, the format was a half-hour oral exam.  There were 600 pages to study and he was good for 400 of them, sketchy for the rest.

If I have my details right, Jérome had to select two questions to answer from twelve possible ones.  If it was in paper form, the questions would lie face down. 

Jérome picked two … both from the sketchy universe.  He answered.  He failed.

Jérome sat with me in the evening.  You can say what you want about shoulds.  He should have studied all 600 pages thoroughly.  The luck gods of the universe should have been kinder …

In any event, he failed the course.  And was peaceful about it.  Not a “Who cares?” attitude.  Not bitching about his luck.  Simply acknowledging that he didn’t get the job done, and that he’ll need to repeat the course in August.

I marvelled.  A lesson from the young one to the old one.

***

On Friday, I sing ten songs in a street concert.  What if I mess up?  If that happens, I’ll remember Jérome …

Perhaps sad

Definitely at peace

With a wee smile coming to my face

Sooner or later

So here you are, trying to cope with this person across the table.  He may be angry with you, or with a politician … or with life.

If you are the target, it’s pretty difficult in the moment to stay calm.  But perhaps an expanse of time will allow us to see newly.

Jack Kornfield, a teacher of Buddhist perspective, has something to say about this:

Each of us can find our own way to sense the underlying goodness in others.  One way is to shift the frame of time, imagining the person before us as a small child, still young and innocent …

Or, instead of moving back in time, we can move forward.  We can visualize the person at the end of their life, lying on their deathbed, vulnerable, open …

Here is the earlier and later man available to you and me:

Trying to figure things out

Trying to let go of accumulated woe

***

Do I have such eyes to see such things?

Or is the only image the one that stands before me?

If it’s good enough for Bruce Springsteen, it’s good enough for me.  A concert set list.

And so, voilà …

+++++++++++

Bruce Kerr

2026 Gent Tour

1.  It’s About Time
2.  Lovin’ Her Was Easier
3.  Paint The Sky With Stars
4.  Song For A Winter’s Night
5.  The Wings That Fly Us Home
6.  The Rose
7.  Remember When The Music
8.  When I Dream
9.  The Snows of New York
10.  The Parting Glass

Eyes + More, Langemunt

Gent, Belgium

+++++++++++

Tickets for my concert will be far cheaper than Springsteen’s … as in zero.  My band will be smaller … as in me.  The crowd won’t be 20,000 rabid fans … it’ll be shoppers heading to the next store.

However, in both cases there will be music.

I’ll start with a song about the world needing we far more than me (#1)

Then it’s on to the bittersweetness of lost love (#2)

The beauties of life in the nighttime (#3)

Alone in the wintertime, yearning for a loved one (#4)

The Spirit that is within us all (#5)

Do not despair.  Love is near (#6)

We made music in kitchens (#7)

A woman’s longing, sung by me (#8)

Remember me after you leave (#9)

A song to sing as I’m dying (#10)

***

On to Friday …

It feels like I’m going to say the same thing as I did yesterday, which would be boring.

But when I look at possible topics for today, only one shines – singing in front of Eyes + More on the Langemunt.  And so I compose …

On Saturday, there I stood in the “playing room” of Van de Moer Instruments, as Bert showed me how to use my brand new amplifier – a Roland Cube Street EX, also known as this:

There were knobs to adjust bass, mid and treble sound, as well as reverb, volume and power settings.  Plus lots of other stuff that I won’t need until my yearned-for future, when I’ll be accompanying my singing with the cello.

Mostly I was in Dreamland.  Simple instructions that were floating away on the breeze.

Bert suggested an excellent microphone (brand name unremembered) that would allow my lips to be several centimetres away from the mic and still create a fine sound.

And then I sang, with more excitement than fear.  I heard little imperfections in my voice that had gone undetected when I was unamplified.  So there were tiny spasms of disappointment.  But then there was a passage of deep notes, and the vibrations of my voice made me smile.  I’ll be fine on …

Friday

The amp, mic and mic stand will be delivered on Tuesday.  Friday is the next day that Virginie and Aude will both be working at Eyes + More.  They’ve been so supportive of my new life chapter, and I want them to be there for my first “concert”.

Hmm.  Why did I put the word “concert” in quotation marks?  I’ll try again:

I want them to be there for my first concert

That’s better.

Friday, June 5

About 11:00

Five to ten songs

And a little sign propped up on the mic stand:

I don’t want any money

Thank you

That’s to avoid confusion about there being no basket or hat or open guitar case.  Speaking of which, it’ll just be me and my mouth.  No instrument.

***

Did I mention?

I’m doing this!