I was in a Zoom retreat with the Evolutionary Collective this weekend.  There were 56 of us from around the world.

We see ourselves as an example of consciousness evolving on the planet, without flaring egos getting in the way.  We’re committed to connect with each other spiritually.

Our time last night ended with a 45-minute practice.  Years ago we met in person.  Imagine six or eight folks sitting in a circle.  The host guides the participants in the silent exercise.  One person is focused on, everyone looking softly into their eyes.  The recipient looks at the second one for 40 seconds, at the third for the next 40, and so on … Then on to the next focus person.  Each one has a time for being the centre of attention.

The experience is a blessing for me – really seeing the divinity of each human being, their shining particularity.  The host plays a series of soft tunes that amplify the closeness.  Together we create a sacred space.

We’re all so different from each other, and deeply the same – in our yearning for true connection.

Last night we “pinned” each other on Zoom so that in each moment one person filled our screen.  Not like being in the same room but just as wondrous.  There were seven online circles of blessed beings.

When it was over, we said …

Good afternoon (3:00 pm on the North American west coast)

Good evening (6:00 pm on the North American east coast)

Goodnight (Midnight in Central Europe)

Good stuff happens to us.  Bad stuff happens to us.  I can tell the bad stuff to go away but that hasn’t worked out very well.  So what to do?

I woke up this morning scared, and with less sleep than usual.  That’s what’s so.  I don’t feel the need to share the details.

In the last year or so, I’ve enjoyed the distinction between “this” and “that”.  I call what’s happening right now “this”.  What’s not current is “that”.

So this morning I let “this” wash over me.  It included some negative thoughts and experiences.  At one point, I got that I was using my contemplation of “this” as a method to have it float away.  That’s not the spirit of “this”!

And now …

The fear is less.  And it lingers.

The eyes want to close.  I’m pretty tired.

***

These two are visitors

“Would you like a coffee?”

“Stay as long as you like”

Does it “sing”?  For years I’ve asked myself that question about what I’m thinking of doing or where I’m thinking of going.  Does it vibrate my soul?  Get the juices flowing?

I sat down half-an-hour ago, wondering what to write.  The moments of last night sung … literally.  But my response just now was “No, not that.  Find something else to write about.”

Except that choosing some other topic today wouldn’t be real.  I’m drawn to tell you about singing at an open mic session yesterday.

So, Bruce, what was true about your singing last night?

1.  I sang the song “Angel”, written by Sarah McLaughlan.

2. I had never sung it in public before.

3.  I remembered all the words.

4.  I sang in tune, and in a vocal range that let me reach the low notes easily.

5.  I let my eyes wander to the eyes in the crowd.

6.  I didn’t think.

7.  Passion came from my mouth and heart.

8.  I “filled the room”, bringing the song to the far corners.

9.  Some people closed their eyes as I sung.

10.  Several people thanked me after I finished.  A couple said I had a lovely voice.

***

No conclusions from all this.  No “and therefore …”

Simply an evening in my life where I connected with other human beings.  And I’m smiling the day after.

It has so many levels

The rooves bend

There are wee windows peering out, under gables

The walls tilt a bit

There’s a smokestack at the top, letting out the gases

Some rooms hang above the water

Steps wind up to above and fall down to below

So many doors!  Some of them are open

There’s a cozy balcony for looking out to sea

One little room is near the water’s edge

***

My castle has all sorts of shapes and juttings

It’s unique in the world

I went searching on the Internet for a photo of someone standing relaxed and symmetrical.  After thirty minutes, I found only two.  Here’s one of them:

The body faces straight forward, the arms dangle, the hands are open, a bit of space between the feet.

How do people usually stand?  Here are some possibilities:

Hands in pockets, legs splayed and arms tight behind the back, arms crossed and one hip forward, hands wide and ankles crossed.

And, with more oomph …

Hands on hips, right arm out and left one back, hips thrust and arms behind the head, one shoulder forward and legs crossed, legs wide and feet pointed inwards, one arm up and one knee forward.  The possibilities are endless.

Then there’s standing in relationship:

***

Voilà!

Behold the infinite variety of us

Once upon a time, the population of the Earth was 6,000,000,000.  I decided to take a large glass jar and fill it with tiny specks of “something” – six billion bits.  And then I would sit there and reflect on all of us.

I found bags of itsy bitsy seeds in a bulk food store.  I filled a tiny cup with them, counting all the while.  Then I kept pouring cups into the jar.  When it was full, I did the math.  In front of me sat about 300,000 seeds, also known as human beings.

Now I realize that I was meditating on the population of Gent, a city that was beyond my consciousness back then.

***

Now there are eight billion of us.  Most of them I’ve never met.  And I wonder about them.

Eight billion minds – holding on to the old and maybe reaching towards the new

Eight billion hearts – keeping the body going and embracing the beloveds

Sixteen billion hands – completing the tasks of the day … and holding other hands

Sixteen billion eyes – taking in both the pain and the wonders of the world

Sixteen billion feet – exploring the highways and byways, urging us to see what’s over there

***

I need a really big jar

I met this guy yesterday.  He didn’t give me his name.  I like the blue shirt.

I don’t know what he’s like.  We just talked for a few minutes.  Probably he has the same joys and sorrows that I do.

He looks to be about the same age as me.  Maybe he also likes to watch cycling races.  I don’t think he’d be boring in conversation.

I bet he’s an American.  Probably has no clue about speaking Dutch.  That’s okay … his English was pretty good.

I hope I meet him again.  I sense there is much to discuss.

The first one is Vini.  What an open-hearted woman!  It was so easy to roam and chat with her.

She said so many cool things … but memory is not one of my best subjects.  Still … I’ll give it a shot.

I told Vini that I get very few likes or comments when I post on Facebook.  I want to reach people and there’s little evidence I’m doing that.  Her look said that  I was thinking too small.  “You’re reaching the Cosmos.” 

Hours later, after Vini has left Gent to fly home to Switzerland, I think she’s right.  I put my good heart into all my writings.  The energy that gets spread is kind and soft.  And the Cosmos is listening.  So I won’t stop writing and posting.

And then there’s the topic of getting older.  Vini advises me to let go of that word.  As a student of the late Barbara Marx Hubbard, she suggests getting newer.  Woh!  Why not?  To keep exploring, opening new doors, not knowing what is about to emerge.  I can do that.

Vini told me a lovely story about her partner Hans, and he’s given me permission to share it.

If I have it right, his son was learning how to drive.  He didn’t see the family dog dart across in front of the car.  Hans’ beloved companion died.  The grief was instant and huge.  But even larger was his love for his son.  He hugged him.  He consoled the boy.

Wow.

***

We went out to dinner last night at a Turkish restaurant called Urfa.  We revelled in the chicken, lamb, peppers, rice and sauces.  I had two beer (one too many!)  Vini ordered Dame Blanche (vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce).  The portion was huge and called out for a second spoon.

And then …  The delightful fellow who served us said that the second beer and the ice cream were free.  Marvelous.  I told him I’d be back, and I’ll keep my word.

***

I introduced Vini to lots of people I know.  I’d say they all got her humanity.  I loved sharing her with the citizens of Gent.

Just two days but a fine time was had.  Two folks floating a few inches off the ground. 

Drawn to this

Drawn to that

Drawn to life

My friend arrived in Gent yesterday from Switzerland.  We’ve never met.

Vini and I are members of the Evolutionary Collective, an organization devoted to people connecting spiritually.  We meet on Zoom. 

Yesterday at the Gent Sint-Pieters train station was the first time we hugged.  It was sweet.  I told her “You have legs!”.  We never see them in the little Zoom rectangles.

In the spirit of you getting to know Vini, here’s how you pronounce her name: Vee-nee.  Names are important.

As we walked towards my building, I said that I’d recently repainted the apartment beige.  “It was time to get rid of all those bright colours!”  Vini didn’t buy it … and she loved the deep orange walls of her room.

On the couch, and later at dinner in De Jacob, the talking was easy and the smiles came often.  We were cozy.

There’s a wide open look in Vini’s eyes – a wonder, a possibility.  She speaks from the mouth via her heart.  The words pour out, unscripted.

Vini and Hans are partners.  Adoration in both directions.  She says they have let go of expectations, of rules laid on from the outside.  And there is no “pretend” between them. 

Vini says that I am being guided towards the next love of my life … a woman I haven’t met, but whom I’ve named.  Elise.  And the guide Vini senses is my dear wife Jody, who died in 2014.

Today there’ll be marvels to explore.  We will stroll lightly on the cobbles of Gent.

More stories tomorrow …

Touristic.  No, that’s not what I want.  However, when it comes to Gent and me, I was one of those from May, 2022 to January, 2023.  After that?  I live here!

I love my music school … the Poel.  I’ve been hoping to find some local spot nearby for a beer and a meal.  The food has eluded me but several times I’ve walked into Café de Poel.

Darlene runs the place.  It’s taken a few visits for her to warm up to me but now we’re there.  She knows my name and that I love Westmalle Tripel.

Here’s a photo of the interior.  I’d like to say that all these folks are smiling at me but I found this pic on the Internet.  In the background you can see window tables.  I love sitting there, watching people, buses and seagulls float by.

And the street in the background – that’s also “Poel”.  It curves so wondrously.  (I love curves)

It seems that it’s mostly middle-aged to old men that walk through the door, at least when I’ve been there.  And English is largely an unknown quantity.  So … a perfect place for me to practice my Dutch skills!

As I watch the gentlemen sipping and chatting, I sense this is a home for them.  Darlene welcomes each regular and they make sure to say goodbye when it’s time to leave.

Perhaps I too will become a regular, and a year from now Dutch will flow from me in conversation.  I’d like that.