Tag Archives: Breakfast

Breakie

My neighbour “Dan” invited me to go to a men’s breakfast at a huge church in London yesterday. The building includes a theatre with inclined seating, a gym, a large windowed meeting room where we ate, washrooms with showers and other nooks and crannies that I didn’t get to explore.

We got there fifteen minutes early and the coffee was ready. Yay! I was sitting in the lobby slurping away when a fellow approached, extended his hand and said “Hi, Bruce.” His face was a blank to me. How in the name of Heaven did he know my name? Probably two minutes later, after he’d left, I looked down and saw a name tag stuck to my chest. “Oh.”

Dan and I sat at a table with friends of his. Everyone was congenial. No one talked about spirituality, and that was fine. At one point, I mentioned to the fellow next to me that I was going to a conference in North Carolina next week where we’ll be exploring consciousness. It’s a hard thing to explain. The best that I can do is to point towards an expansion of love, peace and freedom. The gentleman was polite but soon changed the subject. Again, I’m fine with that.

My spirituality as a Buddhist is different from the Christian fellows I was with. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m just glad to be with folks who have a spiritual life, who see something bigger in life than the daily routines. A hundred or more men who are gathered for a Christian breakfast may differ in their willingness to talk about their faith but their simple presence yesterday morning says a lot.

Just as we were chowing down, a young man and his infant son joined us. A gentle soul, and so loving as he fed his boy. “Jason” works at a day care centre. I looked around the room and saw mostly older people (like me!) but there was a fair sprinkling of young adults, teens and kids. Cool, I thought. We gather together to learn from each other.

After the eats, it was time for the speaks. Guys who spoke Arabic, Spanish and I believe Chinese each had their own meeting room, so they could hear the presentations in their own language. It wasn’t separation … it was consideration.

In the English-speaking room, five men participated in a panel discussion. The moderator had questions ready. My favourite was “When you look back on your life, is there anything you regret?” One speaker, probably in his 70’s, looked around the room and found the young ones. “I regret not being brave enough to tell my friends what was important to me, especially things that they’d likely see differently. I just wanted to fit in, and I lost some of me in the process.” Wow. Well said. I pray that a seed was planted through his words.

So … the morning was not always my way, but it was a truly fine way. Thanks, guys.

At the Counter

I eat breakfast at the Belmont Diner about three times a week.  I love walking there.  And I love the horseshoe-shaped lunch counter.  Today “Bob” was across the way and “Ralph” was a few seats to my right.  I wondered what I’d learn from these guys.

As the three of us talked, the dishwasher was going full speed.  I know that my hearing has declined over the past few years but this morning was an extra challenge.  Ralph has just moved to Belmont and he was talking about his hometown of Windsor, Ontario.  But I was missing a word or two from every sentence.  I so much wanted to understand what he was telling me but the gaps were too big for me to fill in.  So I sat there and sighed.  It came through so vividly how deeply I want to be in communion with other human beings.  The pull was intense.  And then I realized that I could just “be with” Ralph and meet him in a place that didn’t require a complete story.  I knew that beside me sat a man who was grappling with the meaning of the word “home” … such a human thing to do.

On the other side of the counter, Bob was reminiscing about his days as a hockey referee.  I love hockey and I wanted to immerse myself in the life of an on-ice official.  Alas, his story was also hit-and-miss to my ears.  And again, once I saw how contracted I was, how tensed up, I let go into the sweet memories that are such a part of his life.

There seem to be different levels of listening and the limitations of my ears need not stop me from “getting” the people who come my way.  I’ll keep exploring new ways of sensing into the souls around me.

***

Here are two stories, as best as I can figure:

1.  Bob refereed for years, usually games with teenaged players and rabid fans.  In one particular rowdy arena, a bunch of well-lubricated fellows sat in the front row.  They delighted in blasting the “bad” calls uttered by said referee.  Bob noticed that their beers were propped on a narrow shelf on the other side of the protective glass.  He’d had enough of their bombast and casually smashed his arm on the glass, causing a vibration that toppled the cups onto their owners’ laps.  The reaction he got?  Howls of laughter.  Bob reffed many other games at that arena and each time those guys were sitting there, cups against the glass.  And each time Bob smashed, beers descended and howls commenced.  What a great story!

2.  Ralph knows Windsor like the back of his hand.  A new bridge is being built to link the city with Detroit across the river, and many of the approaching roads are done.  Recently Ralph got on one of those routes … and had no idea where he was.  Windsor was unrecognizable and Ralph was supremely disoriented.  I saw it in his face.  How strange to have the comfort of “home” jolted away.

***

Not hearing everything
Getting the truth of everything
Smiling