Monthly Archives: January 2019

Day Seven: Cold … Hot … Cold

Late afternoon, I was walking towards Times Square when the world turned. A blast of cold air fell upon us (probably down from some strange place like Canada!). I was ready – toque, hood over toque, Arctic mitts, three coats including a down jobbie. A few folks semi-ran by me with nothing on their noggins, and their necks open to the blast. How can you do that and stay alive? Most people, though, were reasonably bundled up like me.

I’ve made it a spiritual practice to cross at an intersection only when I have the walk light. It gets my ego out of the way … no pushing forward, just letting go. New Yorkers feel otherwise. Red or green – if there’s no cars coming, it’s a go. Waiting as the stream of humanity flows by is good for me, but I can feel my heartrate surging, especially as the cold invades my eyes.

The snow started. In my mind, that’s supposed to mean it’s warming up, but not so yesterday. A whole bunch of white folks (irrespective of their skin colour) turned it up a notch. I had a bit of face skin open to the elements but that was it. There began a desperation and I started searching for an inviting door. What seemed like “finally” showed up, and just like that I was perched at the bar of an Irish pub. Thank God.

Then there was Bryan Cranston. He’s the star of Network, a Broadway play at the Belasco Theatre, and I got to go. Bryan played Howard Beale, a TV news anchor who’s losing it. The world has gone to **** and he’s “mad as hell and not going to take it anymore”. The guy’s unravelling into madness and we’re right there with him, yelling from the audience. Corruption, sleasiness, violence … it’s all smashing Howard in the face. A Type-A network executive sees only ratings before her eyes and wants the man to implode on the 6 o’clock news. He’s happy to oblige.

The intensity was astonishing. I really wasn’t pissed off at the powers-that-be in the world but nevertheless I was swept up in the dizziness of it all.

At the end, there were video snips of a series of US presidents taking the oath of office – all the way back to Gerald Ford, I think. The same words but such different souls. When George W. Bush was onscreen, we were silent. I knew who was coming next, and when Barack’s gentle face appeared, we the people cheered. I trust him so.

We filed out into the night, scarves and gloves firmly in place, knowing that we had been in the presence of greatness. The frigid evening came calling and I rushed to the subway. At the other end, I prayed for a quick M14A bus. Alas, no. Three M14D ones came by as my body stiffened. “Not fair”, I wailed. But still a little smile emerged. “Don’t worry, Bruce. You’ll survive nicely.” And I did. A half hour later, the covers caressed me as I pulled them up to my chin.

Day Six: Faces Together

I moved through Central Park on my way to the MET … the Metropolitan Museum of Art. As I roamed the pathways, I came upon an alcove filled with circular beauty. It was a huge sculpture of Alice in Wonderland and her friends. Alice gazed down at the Cheshire Cat … in love. I couldn’t look away from the beams of light that joined their eyes. I paused a very long time.

I climbed the stairs of the huge building and stepped inside to the grand space. The choices inside the MET are overwhelming, or so I perceived them:

Jewelry: The Body Transformed

Artistic Encountets with Indigenous America

Seeing the Divine: Pahari Painting of North India

Streams and Mountains Without End: Landscape Traditions of China

Corridors beckoned in all directions but I sat down. Why was I here? To learn about the art of different times and places? No. To experience myself as an artist, walking beside all these creators? No. Something else was present in the space. It had nothing to do with landscapes, or abstracts, or scenes of streets. It had everything to do with the human face. And not the solitary ones. What was drawing me were faces in communion with other faces. Contact.

So I roamed the galleries, rarely reading the descriptions accompanying the paintings or sculptures. Not wanting to understand, just to experience the connections. And it happened. Worlds of joined eyes presented themselves to me.

I took pictures here and there. Once I was in a gallery and looked down the hallway to the one next door. There stood two people facing each other. They were magnetic. For the next hour, it felt that some unknown force was drawing me from one exhibit to the next. And friends in stone or paint kept saying hi. I smiled back.

I don’t know what else to say. The rest is visual. I’ll transfer this post to Facebook and add a whole bunch of photos … faces all. You’ll get the idea.

Day Five: Out and About in NYC

There’s an Evolutionary Collective internet gathering at 2:00 pm. Terry and I have just said goodbye, as he catches his bus to New Hampshire, and me the subway to Central Park. At the corner of Love and Power, we looked way deep into each other’s eyes and said what was inevitable. We are together, him and me, in the service of life evolving on this planet. Distance means nothing.

Speaking of power, consider the express train northward. It hurtles through space, blasting past local stops, rocking and rolling and surging. I feel the power within as the subway shakes in the power without.

Speaking of love, consider the black woman standing in front of me. She wears a shining black heart-shaped backpack, with a gold zipper. The whole thing vibrates. And she has no idea how moved I am.

I need to be on time. Being more than a minute or two late means not being on the call. Out of the subway staircase, it looks like three blocks to the park. Turns out to be four. I need to be away from the street noise and onto a bench. At 1:57 they are missions accomplished.

As the call begins, it’s time for my toque, hood and mittens. Joggers are flowing past. “Deb”, my partner in the mutual awakening practice that makes up half of our time, is sitting in her home in California. She loves seeing the cold and the runners and the bare trees. It’s clear to both of us that these moments are far beyond her and me. The folks passing by are part of us. We include them in our caring.

A young girl and her dad, both bundled up against the weather, come strolling along. She moves right up to me and points my way. I shift gaze from my Californian friend to my new one. Smiles both ways. “Hi” from me. “Squirrel!” from her. She was pointing to the bundle of fur that was scampering behind me. Yes, let’s include everybody. A minute later, she and dad are waving goodbye. Me too.

(Tuesday) Later it’s a beer and nachos in Dylan Murphy’s, an Irish pub on Third Street. Cozy. Gemma, the bartender, has a lilting accent and a soft smile. We talk about life. She asks me why I’m in New York. I tell her about the work of the EC. I sum it all up with the word “eyes”, as I look into hers.

I’m an evangelist but naturally people don’t like to be cornered, compressed, told they should do something. So I simply say, “If you want to know more, Google ‘Evolutionary Collective.'” Absolutely enough said.

Today I’m heading to the MET – the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I’ll let you know all about it in a few hours.

Day Three (and Four!): In Love

I’ve been totally absorbed in supporting the members of the Evolutionary Collective as they meet in New York. So I haven’t blogged since Friday. I’ll make up for it over the next few days!

***

(Saturday) Usually when we hear that someone is in love, we think of a couple. Yesterday, I was “within love” with thirty other people. The eastern part of the Evolutionary Collective Core is meeting in New York for three days. And I get to assist. Although it’s not appropriate for me to share the specific practices we do, I can give you the flavour of our togetherness.

In this work, we make contact with other human beings. We “see” each other. Maybe that’s where the word “core” comes from. And we also go far beyond the relationship between two or three people. We’re participating in the evolution of consciousness in the world towards a place where no one is left out. Someone walks into a room and the group’s response is “Super! Another person to be with, to learn from, to love.” I sense a yearning in the world to touch – physically and spiritually. May love evolve through all of us.

(Monday) I’m in Scotty’s Diner on Lexington Avenue, waiting for my friend “Terry” to join me for breakfast. Yesterday late afternoon, we two assistants sat in the lobby of the Affinia Shelburne Hotel, realizing that all our EC friends had left for airports, trains … for home. I felt a momentary loneliness but then it came through clearly – neither distance nor time can separate us. They’re all with me as I sit here tapping away.

Before our meeting was to start yesterday at 10:00 am, the room manager “Denise” realized that the candle at the front of the room had burned out. The hotel didn’t have any appropriate replacement so I volunteered to find one downtown somewhere. Mr. Google told me about Diptyque a few blocks away, and it was open! The candle shop was down some corridor in an office building. Even with the shortness of time, I trusted that all would be revealed to me in moments. It turned out to be many moments. And when I got there, the store was dark. Ahh … truth in advertising.

I looked inside and wondered at my calm. 9:35. Clearly it was time to discover the glories of riding a cab in NYC. Bed Bath and Beyond was about ten blocks away. The cabbie was friendly and efficient. He commented that traffic was so light this morning. Okay, not exactly my perspective.

Into the store I rushed and asked for candles. “Downstairs, turn left, way down the aisle past pet supplies.” Sure, I can do that. I found a lovely round candle in a clear glass container … looked kind of elegant. I paid for my treasure and was soon back on the street, arm up, flagging down a cab like a local. 9:48. The driver heard the hotel address and headed for a freeway ramp. Yay for local knowledge.

9:57. Therough the door of the meeting room. Candle placed on the round table at the front, accompanied by a lovely bouquet of floors. A box of matches sat there, invitingly. Done deal.

This morning, in the darkness of my mind, I stubbed my toe on the two-inch rise from the kitchen to the bathroom. Oww! And now, after breakie, it still hurts a lot. Strangely and miraculously, though, I’m not adding anything to the pain. No “Ain’t it awful?” No angst about how life is treating me unfairly. Clearly the human beings I’ve just spent three days with are having their effect. Once Terry leaves on his bus for New Hampshire, I’m off to explore Central Park … slowly.

There, I’m back on track with you. Wonders of New York are ready to welcome me. Please walk with me over the next four days.

Day Two: Being of Service

Today was the first full day for the Evolutionary Collective Core weekend. The core folks have been living this consciousness of care and inclusion for years. I just began last April. There is much for me to learn, but today such an opening was balanced with an intense focus on serving the participants.

The support team was setting up the room well in advance of the 10:00 am start time. I admit I’m meticulous about such things – virtually anal. The cloths on the round tables at the front had to hang just so, a few inches above the floor. No dragging. The flip chart legs had to be exactly level. No tilting. And the carpet had to be absolutely clean. No lingering flotsams and jetsams. I bet that last task took me half an hour, picking up little offenders with my thumb and first finger. I was taught decades ago that I shouldn’t let anything distract the learners from absorbing the teachings.

Throughout the day, I was a mic runner. The idea was to be prompt, gentle and essentially invisible when Patricia called on a volunteer to speak. Watch them like a hawk for a slightly raised hand. Ask them to stand up if they haven’t already (I wasn’t good at that). Make sure the mic is on! Know when to take it back from the speaker. Co-ordinate with the other mic runner to cover the room. It was an art form, a dance, an imperfect support of the soul’s shares.

Finally, the photos. The folks had all given permission for candid shots but I didn’t want to be intrusive. I roamed around the room, looking for the best angles. I sought faces that were exploded in joy, or looking deep into their partner’s eyes. I looked for the heart of the inside clearly displayed on the outside … and found what I was looking for. After the day was done, I sat in the hotel lobby, zoomed in on several pics, and created some tender close-ups. It made me happy.

New York was on the back burner today. Human togetherness took centre stage, as it should.

Day One: The Energy

It was a long trip from Newark Airport to Manhattan. An Air Train dipsy doodle to the New Jersey Transit Station, then a long wait, then a leisurely float to New York’s Penn Station. One fellow asked me for directions. I laughed and told him I was an absolute newbie. The folks standing around at the transit station seemed normal. It could have been a scene from downtown Toronto.

At Penn Station, I climbed all these stairs, building up my biceps as I hauled my suitcase upwards. A fellow hosting a tourist booth downstairs laid out my options. A cab would work. That’s certainly what a woman on the plane had suggested. As we landed, she said there was no way I should be navigating the subway system, in the rain, with luggage, on my very first visit to New York. I agreed. But Mr. Tourism Agent got me thinking: walk three blocks to a subway station. The train could deposit me within a thirty minute walk of my new home. Why not? Go for it, young man.

Finally a door, and the street. And then … whoosh! The sidewalk was packed with almost sprinting New Yorkers. The buildings soared above the canyons. Huge neon video boards sold their wares. And I was stunned. Sirens howled, horns blasted and the world was electric. Oh my God, who are all these people? And what am I enjoying all this noise, me of the silent mediation retreats? Just fall into it, Bruce.

I found my home … at 515 East 5th Street, and proceeded to be mystified by the lockbox that faced me. Oh, Bruce, I thought you were smarter than this! Apparently not.

Finally gaining entry, I noted that my apartment was 5C. In the first floor hallway, all I saw was 1B, 1C … A woman left her room and we smiled. “Is there an elevator?” > “No, it’s a walkup.” > (Sigh) A long haul indeed.

It was 7:00 pm. In my sweet room, with its red brick wall, I worked at translating the NYC subway map. Good luck. I Googled this and that, trying to figure out how I was going to arrive at the Affinia Shelburne Hotel tomorrow morning at 7:30 am.

Okay, it was time for action. I figured out that a northward bus was nearby. I asked folks for directions. Every single one of them was friendly! That’s not what I was told about New Yorkers.

Off the bus here, onto probably the right subway line there. Confused a lot, happy even more. And everywhere the surge of humanity. Wow, I love this stuff! At the end of exploration, there I sat in the lobby of the Affinia Shelburne, hoping I’d see a few members of the Evolutionary Collective hanging around. But no.

Now I’m in a bar called “Niagara”, congratulating myself on conquering New York. Except I didn’t. I’ve merely begun to embrace the city.

More to come …

New York

Arggh! I just completed a blog post about my upcoming journey to New York City. WordPress told me that my words were being saved as I typed, 380 of them. I edited the piece and moved towards “Publish”. And then the whole darned thing disappeared. I’ve tried recovering it, but my reflection on what starts tomorrow is … gone.

I’m tired and there’s an early wake up call in the morning. But I committed to let you know about my trip, and to do it tonight. So, back to it!

***

Can it be that I’m going to another new place? First there was Belgium, them Senegal, and tomorrow … New York City. What mysteries will reveal themselves? Will I stay open to what draws me, moment by moment? Yes, I will.

I got an e-mail in Belgium from an Evolutionary Collective staff member, asking if I would be interested in assisting at the upcoming three-day weekend. Folks who for years have been a part of this consciousness of mutual love and awakening are gathering at the Affinia Shelburne Hotel. My answer was immediate. I get to run microphones, move chairs, organize nametags and in general look out for what’s needed. And I’ll bathe in the beauty of others. I’m pretty new on this journey but I’m clear: I want to be where those folks are – immersed in something big.

How did I come to be with so many opened-hearted people? How is it that I discovered the work of Patricia Albere? It’s true that I’ve cared for people for many years, wanting the best for them, but that doesn’t entitle me to anything. It’s by grace that I have come this way. Now it’s my job to serve, to remove any distractions so that the participants can dive deeply into “being with” each other.

After Sunday, I have four days of exploration. The only “for sure” items in my mind are visiting the 911 Memorial and going to a Broadway play. I remember my immense sadness in September, 2001, and I know it will return next week. I have a DVD of footage shot while the planes slammed into the World Trade Center, and of the aftermath, where people were trapped in the rubble – broken bones, bleeding, difficulty breathing. What horror. When I’m there next week, I want to sit with my sadness, rather than cover it over with political analysis or stories of heroism.

This morning, as I was driving into London, I listened to an interview on CBC Radio. Tom Power was talking to a cast member of the play Network, based on a 1976 movie about the rantings of a TV news anchor who was “mad as hell and not going to take this anymore”. I was fascinated with the discussion and soon was yearning to go. “I wonder where it’s being performed.” The answer came right away … Broadway. That’s me! I got on my phone and scored one of the few remaining tickets. This fellow will be sitting in the balcony of the Belasco Theatre next Wednesday evening.

What will emerge over the next nine days? I’ve told you about a couple of knowns, but really they’re unknowns like everything else. Let’s go ‘splorin’. I hope you’ll come along on the journey.

A Flood of Humanity

I think balance is a great thing, but sometimes … not. What would life be like if I crammed it with people, taking hardly any alone time? Not so great long term but how about trying it for a day? A friend told me that I love being with people so much that I could pretty much be in their presence hour after hour. Well, yesterday was the experiment. I didn’t plan it out but it’s how it worked out.

8:30 – 10:00

I sat with eleven Grade 9 students, one at a time, and wrote them messages in Jody’s book. I asked each one what they were passionate about and included that in my words. One girl talked about her commitment to make a difference in the world by leading the push for social justice. Very cool.

I also dropped into a Music class and joked with the teacher. I sang “a little number” for the kids – “3”! Some mouths turned up at the edges.

10:15 – 10:20

Messing with the mind of the young woman who served me at the bakery. Bring on the fresh bread! She laughed.

10:30 – 11:15

A late breakfast at Wimpy’s Diner. The section of my favourite server was full so I had only the occasional moments to say silly things to her from afar and give her snippets about Senegal. There’ll be a fuller conversation next time. The woman who did serve me smiled as she gave me extra peanut butter.

11:30 – 12:30

An online call with about thirty members of the Evolutionary Collective. I love looking at all the little rectangles, each containing a human being. I had a partner for part of the time and I told the group afterwards that he was Santa Claus, giving me the gift of himself. And he sure looks like Santa! Some folks agreed.

1:00 – 3:30

Volunteering in the Grade 6 class. I sat at an empty desk and marked Math tests, much to the interest of the kids sitting beside me. “How’d I do?” I showed them, leading to fist pumps and grimaces.

I told the 11-year-olds that I was heading to New York City on Thursday and asked the experienced ones what I should see there. Great enthusiasm came back about the 911 memorial and Times Square. The adult in me (or kid?) also wants to walk in Central Park and see a Broadway play.

4:15 – 5:15

On the elliptical at the gym. The fellow manning the front desk was all excited about turning 24 in two days. We compared ages. He told me that I was probably more fit than him. What delightful nonsense!

I actually had some alone time … just me and the rolling beast under my feet. I managed to get in some good conversation with the elliptical, however.

6:00 – 10:00

Dinner at my neighbours’ place. They were so eager to hear about Senegal and I was happy to oblige. I painted a picture of a very affectionate society and they seemed fascinated with the people I met. Holding hands with children as we walked down the dirt streets was an astounding experience. Overall, we talked and talked about the mysteries of life. Good food, good conversation, good friends. Four hours of quality blabbing.

10:30 – 11:30

Another Evolutionary Collective call, this time about twenty folks. I did a practice with a woman who’d I’d never seen before and within a couple of minutes it was like we were old friends. How is that possible? During the group sharing, I mentioned that my partner and I managed to talk about each other’s eyes for five minutes or more. From the outside, I realize this sounds very weird. From the inside, it was a blessing.

***

So there you have it … a very unusual day. I was nourished by human beings from dawn to bedtime. We’re all so fascinating, so different from each other, but down deep the same. Yay for us.

Wonders of the World

I saw two inspiring sights today: one was a huge orange moon. The other was a human face.

As I drove home from London a couple of hours ago, the moon hung low over the highway. All was black around, and it shone like a beacon in the sky. My breath slowed and the beauty came home.

Other beauties of the world have come my way, and I have been blessed to be in their presence. A few weeks ago, there were the thousand-year-old buildings of Ghent, Belgium, glowing with Christmas lights. Many years past, I climbed a sandy ridge on the west coast of Vancouver Island to see at the summit miles of Long Beach, the waves from Japan crashing onto the sand below.

I have stood atop Mount Lineham in Alberta’s Waterton Lakes National Park, a sea of peaks spread before me. I have seen the golden harbour of Toubacouta, Senegal at sunset, with fishing boats lying at rest. I have sat within a hollowed-out cave on the Bruce Peninsula in Ontario, gazing at the sky above.

All these reminders of transcendence, and more, have graced my life. The land, the sea and the structures of man have made me happy.

But the best and brightest of wonders reside in the human face:

My eight-year-old friend Ali in Senegal, smiling into my eyes
as he shook my hand “Bonjour”

My dear wife Jodiette gazing deep into me
as we shared a window table
in Chez Temporel
a sweet restaurant on Quebec City’s Rue Couillard

My friend Sharyn being with me
in a mutual awakening practice this afternoon
the space between us glowing with love

***

No need to travel to the far corners of the world for beauty
although you will also find it there
Just look, really look, at the person beside you

Gabrielle Daleman

Gabrielle is a Canadian figure skater who has done well at home and internationally. As with most elite athletes, she has devoted much of her life to her craft.

At the Canadian Figure Skating Championships this week, Gabrielle was leading after the short program. Then it was time for the long skate, which would decide who gets the gold medal:

But the 21-year-old from Newmarket, Ontario, a bronze medallist at the 2017 world championships, fell twice in her free skate, and nearly fell twice more, plummeting to fifth place. She burst into tears after her marks were shown.

I saw her face fall to her hands, and she wept deeply. My eyes moistened. There was a human being in agony on the other side of the TV screen, and she was me. We’ve all been beaten up by life at times and we simply need to know that others care. Both of her coaches put their arm around her when the scores came up.

We’d like to do well whenever we enter the arena of life but there are times when it all falls apart. Strangely, I heard today about the exact opposite: my nephew scored with a few seconds left to win his high school basketball game. The gym erupted in joy. Ecstasy and despair – strange bedfellows, but they show up for each of us.

Gabby was interviewed on TV after the competition. First of all, she showed up. No hiding under a pillow. Tears rimmed her eyes as she spoke, and her gaze was strong as she looked at many thousands of us. Head up … speaking the truth. I was blown away.

This athlete has mental health problems and has admitted so publicly. What an example for each of us – nothing hidden, the warts exposed as clearly as the shining smile. Wow.

“Athletes who are attracted to figure skating are perfectionists, which is about being concerned with the achievement of perfection,” said Rebekah Dixon, who holds a Master’s degree in developmental psychology.

“This leads to being more focused on other people seeing you as perfect, which in itself is a problem, because you’re focusing on something that is unattainable.”

Gabrielle sunk low for awhile, and spent months away from skating, dealing with her demons. How many of us face similar gargoyles every day, but no one else knows? It might be physical problems, relationships, money – all most likely under the umbrella of self-esteem. How important is it for me to see every person I meet as probably in the middle of a life problem that’s very tough? Very important. A kind word, a smile, a hand on the shoulder … can heal.

The rink was a great place for Daleman. She experienced success and accomplishment – satisfactions that were far harder to come by at school. Daleman has attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and a learning disability. The challenges she faced in the classroom led to teasing and bullying by the other students.

Even with acid comments and demeaning looks coming her way, Gabby skated. She trained. She persevered. And she will continue to do so.

I’m glad you’re on the planet, Gabrielle Daleman
You inspire me to be great
Thank you