I told my friend Dirk and my daughter “Alison” that I was going to Bruges today in search of a gigantic tree stump.  I had walked by it a few weeks ago and was stunned by its size.  I’d guess that it would take five adults with their arms spread to encircle it.

Here’s what I imagined the top would look like:

Last week I sought my large friend in the park where I remembered it stood.  No luck, probably due to an insufficient memory.

So I tried another park today … a long one by the river.  I realized that I’d come to the city on a single mission:

Find the tree!

Beholding other beauties of Bruges would be fine … but I needed!  I wanted!  I had to have!

Ah yes … another fine period of obsession.

…

And so I walked the path, hoping that all would be revealed.

Nothing … nothing … and then …

Something

There to my right was the stump – except it wasn’t.  It was a fully grown tree.  Very fully.

And indeed, it would probably take five people to do the job:

I sat long and long on a nearby bench, watching the sun come and go on the bark.  I smiled to know that this dear tree was alive and well and tall.

I shall return for further conversations

It rained a lot in Gent yesterday evening.  Water was dripping aggressively from my bedroom ceiling when I went to bed.  And running down one wall.

All summer I’ve been sleeping in my guest bedroom at the front of the apartment so I could have the windows open and try to cool the place down.

My bedroom is at the back, facing the Leie River … also facing many families of mosquitoes.  Opening those windows would invite a lot of itchy red bumps in the morning,  plus a lot of swatting overnight.

High temperatures are finally dropping down into the high teens Celsius, and I’ve had vague thoughts of moving back to my purple walls.

I’m here to recommend that you too hone the fine art of procrastination.  If I’d been sleeping in my bedroom last night, that piece of plaster you see might have broken my leg.  This morning I felt how heavy it was.

So thank you … whoever you are

For your divine guidance

I have two fully functioning legs today

It pleases me

Facebook stories often teach me … such as the one I read today about Jack Smith.  I’m not going to tell you his story.  Our friend AI can assist you here.

Jack is a remarkable human being … just as all of us can be.  Millions of people know what he stands for.  Very few know the same about you and me.

This morning Facebook is full of praise for Jack’s courage.  I invite you to replace his name with yours.  Imagine the world smiling at you, saying that you’re a good person.

You’ll often see the words “man”, “he”, “him” and “his” in these reviews.  Please add “woman”, “she” and “her” every time.

I’ve replaced “Jack” with “A” …

A takes every hit on the chin and never flinches.  His objectivity, research and application of our rule of law is flawless and irrefutable.

I think A is a man of experience and integrity.  The fact that he has not once “plead the fifth” and has answered every question asked of him says what kind of man he is.

[To plead the Fifth Amendment of the Constitution in US law: “refusing to answer questions or give testimony in order to protect yourself from self-incrimination”]

Thank you God for the courage of this man standing and speaking the truth.  He is so brave.  I know he has been persecuted for doing the right thing.  God bless him.

I think A’s unwillingness to charge ________ with something that A could not absolutely prove speaks to his integrity and how he conducted the business of his office.

It is so awesome to see one man stand before the wolves, the worst of humans, and still speak the truth.  A man with no skeletons in his closet, a man of integrity and one who can face the devil and walk out with his soul intact.  This man is a true patriot for his country and for justice.  I only watched a bit of the hearing and I have to say I could not have sat through the attacks with the calmness and integrity this man displayed.  A, you keep being true to who you are.  The Truth will be your victory.

I learned as a young person (now I’m older) that when someone calls you names it means they lost the conversation, and now are trying to bully the other person.  I also learned the person that is the loudest voice is usually the person that knows the least.  I’ve found these statements incredibly true.

Thankfully there are people like him.  He won’t bend a knee, grab his ankles or genuflect on command.  “I will not be intimidated” should be the battle cry …

If you listen and watch carefully when someone is speaking, there are many clues to truth or falsehood.  Toxic speech is a tool to cover deceitful distraction.  A’s background and integrity … exemplary.

I like my brain.  I don’t really know what it is, but that’s okay.  And then there’s my mind … a deeper mystery.

I’ve been on the planet for 77 years.  That’s a lot of moments.  Some of them return, in random fashion.

I’ve just decided to sit here in Izy Coffee and see what images bubble up over the next half hour.  Maybe lots.  Maybe none.

In the spirit of analysis, I’ll time myself.  It’s 10:22.  See you in thirty minutes.

***

10:52.

Here’s what entered me:

Pole vault

Bill Crothers running the 800 metres race in the 1960’s (I was there)

A girl laughing at me when I fell on the ice

Standing up Jean Deeth on a date when we were teenagers

Wearing my Superman outfit as I drove from Lethbridge to Calgary, Alberta, Canada

Two burning candles near each other

Shimmering down … from head to toe

My mouth opening now (it is)

A red coat

Couples holding hands

A waterbed, sinking into it

People with their heads down, frowning

Pulling the covers up to my chin

…

At this point I started meditating, even though I was in a coffee shop, with the sounds of a coffee machine, background music, customers and street noises.

…

Gentle raindrops

The skin of my face melting, dripping off my chin

Downward, sinking into

My arms growing longer to the sides

Leaking from the corners of my mouth

Singing “The Sound of Silence”

A snake slithering

My arms going limp

Bowing

Someone speaking Turkish?   Just the flow of sounds

Lying on my back, dying

Yannick, my mailman

Bruce Springsteen

Anne With An “E” TV series

Anne’s face

“Kindred spirits”

The sound of a tram … a past train journey

Grandpa’s farm, a train in the distance passing from right to left, billows from the steam locomotive

Grandpa’s cigar

Grandpa’s stories on the stone porch

Lips

Floating on my back on a river

A long waterfall

…

Quieter now, deeper into the meditation

…

A tiny brook in a Canadian mountain meadow

A cell phone ringing … A faraway voice saying “Go away”

Skin cells falling off

Falling face down into an abyss, smiling

Travelling down a blood vessel as it becomes smaller

My head falling backwards

People laughing far away

Someone hammering

Coffee machine

Pop music in the background

***

Well, that was fun!

Thank you, dear mind

Let’s do it again sometime

I sense that years ago I wrote about what I’m about to write about.  A little voice says “That’s bad.”  But I don’t trust little voices.

Contact between human beings is either there or not there.  I can feel in my guts its presence or absence.  I’m talking about a spiritual connection, not necessarily skin to skin.

I often make people laugh.  And instantly there it is … contact.  Easy.  Natural.

Words shared together from the heart yield the same smile.  You and me.

I write this blog almost every day.  I average thirty views a day.  Are those folks connected to me, or is it just a glance at a photo and lots of words?  I trust that for some of those thirty, there is a coming together with me.  But I don’t know.  I get very few “Likes” or comments.

After all this flow of language, I’m left with a usual question:

Should I keep score?

As I now sit quietly, sipping my cappuccino, the answer floats towards me:

No

No stats.  No “more contact yesterday, less today”.  Such a waste of energy.

One more time, I promise to let go of an insidious question:

How am I doing?

Goodbye, self-reflective mind.  I know I’ll see you again … and I’ll say goodbye again.

And another wayward thought:

Look at you.  You’re such a good person

***

Give it all a rest, Bruce

Merely open yourself

To the next person coming your way

Prime Minister Mark Carney of Canada spoke to the European Parliament recently.

Does his choice of words reveal the heart and soul of the man?

Yes

Thank you for granting me the honour of addressing you all at the beginning of this decisive session.

Today I will speak to you about how our response to the current geopolitical rupture should incorporate a new dimension.

…

The depth of our bonds, those which unite us, cannot be measured by trade or what is written in treaties alone.

…

Goethe understood that ideals must be fought for, that values do not defend themselves.  Indeed, at the end of Faust, the old man’s last vision is of a free people on free ground.

…

It [freedom] was nurtured by the founders of the European Coal and Steel Community in the aftermath of the war.

It was fostered by the creation of the European Community.

It was preserved through the establishment of the European Union.

And it grew through its expansion following the fall of the Berlin Wall.

…

This is the essence of the Canada-European Union partnership.  Seeds, values, ideas, trade, people and progress carried back and forth across the Atlantic for centuries.

…

Our commitment to the rule of law, and our unyielding defence of human dignity, individual freedom and democracy share the same deep roots, the same unwavering dedication.

We hold common values, for which we have always fought, and in whose defence we must always remain vigilant.

We believe that a strong economy is not an end in itself, but the means to a just society.  We are committed stewards of our natural heritage.  We believe that our prosperity grows when it is shared.

…

We are bound by an affinity – elective, chosen and renewed, and stronger for being so.

…

Beneath the forest floor, the roots of an oak intertwine with those of its neighbours, exchanging nutrients, adding strength to strength, creating a resilient, self-sustaining ecosystem.

***

It was a long speech.  There’s plenty more to come … but you get the idea.

Our words have power

For good or ill

Let’s go for good

It’s a document adopted by the United Nations General Assembly in 1948.  It speaks the truth of a world we know is possible.

Articles 1 and 2 (Core Principles):

Proclaim that all human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights, strictly banning discrimination based on race, sex, language, religion or background.

Articles 3 to 11 (Individual and Legal Protections):

Safeguard the right to life, liberty and security.  They ban slavery, torture and arbitrary arrest, while guaranteeing a fair trial and the presumption of innocence.

Articles 12 to 17 (Civil Freedoms):

Enshrine the right to privacy, freedom of movement, the right to seek asylum, nationality, marriage/family and property ownership.

Articles 18 to 21 (Political Freedoms):

Protect freedom of thought, conscience and religion; freedom of opinion and expression; peaceful assembly; and the right to participate in government.

Articles 22 to 27 (Economic and Social Rights):

Guarantee social security, the right to work and equal pay, rest and leisure, education, an adequate standard of living (including food, clothing, housing and medical care) and cultural participation.

Articles 28 to 30 (Framework and Duties):

Outline the social and international order needed to realize these rights, balancing individual freedoms with duties to the community.

***

It’s a piece of paper … an important one

It guides the actions of nations

Perhaps we should carry it in our purse or wallet

Because most essentially …

It’s about you and me

I sat in a park yesterday listening to a man play his accordion.  I’d say he was from somewhere in Eastern Europe … perhaps Turkey.

Tourists passed by left and right.  He kept playing and smiling.  And he allowed me to take his picture.

In my forty minutes or so with the gentleman, four songs still linger with me.  And he repeated them.  They were familiar tunes.  And I wondered who wrote each one.  The internet assisted me.

1.  Que Sera, Que Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be) … a writer from the United States

2.  Cielito Lindo … from Mexico

3.  My Way … with dual citizenship – Canada and the USA

4.  When The Saints Go Marchin’ In … the USA

The musician’s pillow was sparse with coins.  He probably played for hours to accumulate a few euros.

And … I wonder what it feels like to play songs that are far away from his traditions.  Maybe he loves them, but just as likely he knows they’re pieces that tourists know.  And therefore they might be more generous.

I’m imagining my heart and soul if I thought I had to sing songs that would be popular, but that didn’t move me.  Hmm …

***

I don’t know how the accordionist truly feels

But he sure has a great smile

I was quietly sipping my cappuccino yesterday in Izy Coffee on the Langemunt.  Léa, the barista, came up to me and asked for help.

“There’s a bird on the ground below a table on the terrace.  It looks injured.  Some people almost stepped on it.  Would you help me catch it?”

Of course, “Yes”.

I went out to look.  It seemed like one of the pigeon’s eyeballs was hanging out.  My heart sank.

We both went on the internet to find who to call, and the answer was nearby: Opvangcentrum Voor Vogels En Wilde Dieren, a bird and wildlife rescue centre.

We needed a box, big enough to transport the little one without hurting it further.  I found one in Izy’s storage room.  Léa emptied out the coffee cups and I cut some air holes.

We tried to contact Izy’s owner, knowing he has a car, but we couldn’t reach him.  I checked public transit.  It was a 30-40 minute ride on tram and bus and feet.

I’ll do it

I tried corralling the pigeon but he or she, even injured, was too fast for me.  Léa grabbed a towel, placed it over the bird to calm it, grabbed on, and placed it into my waiting box.  Tape the top and I was ready to go.

My connections weren’t great but within the hour I was ringing the wildlife centre’s doorbell.  I had done my best to be gentle on the trip, and to keep the box and its occupant out of the sun.  Occasionally I could hear the scratching of claws on cardboard.  It was still alive.

A lovely young man took the pigeon into another room and examined it.  He came back shaking his head.

“It isn’t injured.  It has a severe disease called pigeon pox virus … highly contagious for other birds, harmless for animals and humans.”

“Even with treatment, it’s unlikely our little friend will survive.  And she would infect many other birds.  The humane thing to do is euthanize her.”

(Sigh)

I sadly agreed.

***

I walked into Izy after the return trip.  Léa’s face tightened.  And I too shook my head.

Two sad human beings

We did our best for a fellow being of the Earth

And our sick little companion leaves a legacy …

The ending of her life has saved many other lives

I had a panic attack in the wee hours of last night.  I was terrified, not of dying, but that a painful experience would continue for the rest of my life.  Sleep disappeared.

“But you’re spiritually evolved, Bruce.  You shouldn’t have panic attacks.”  Oh yeah … no to both parts.

In the evening I’d watched a documentary called Wisdom Of Happiness, in which the Dalai Lama sat in a chair and talked to all of us resting behind the camera.

Brothers and sisters of this small planet, we are same human beings

His Holiness has the same joys and sorrows as I do.  Fear and anger and sadness come to visit him, as they do us.  He has learned to train his mind beyond what most of us can do.

I can change my mind.  I can reduce anger, hatred

Hmm … and so can I.  So can you

Here are one reviewer’s comments:

His Holiness begins by telling listeners to get rid of all expectations: There will be no miracles or blessings in this film.

…

The ninety-minute documentary has the feel of a master class delivered by a physician of the mind, recalling to us all that everyone has the capacity to develop clear-sightedness and, with it, hope.

***

Will more panic attacks come my way?

Quite possibly yes, as my frailties continue to emerge

…

And above it all …

A mist of well-being descends