Every Act

Everything you do counts forever

I don’t know who said this but I’m glad they did.  I’m imagining the building of a gorgeous temple – stone by stone, wooden beam by wooden beam, stained glass by stained glass.  This edifice is in my hands.  Every kind act from me adds a bit and every meanness or distancing takes something away.  There’s a worldwide village under construction, about 4.5 billion homes.  Will we create a city of light or a ghost town?

When I was 18, I asked a girl out on a date.  We arranged to meet on the grounds of the Canadian National Exhibition in Toronto.  At the appointed time, I didn’t show up.  Years later, while I was on yard duty at school, a young girl cut herself badly.  I applied pressure and love until the ambulance came.  What if those two moments are just as alive today as they were when they happened?  What if the entire world still vibrates with that fear and kindness?

If that’s true, do I become hypervigilant, walking through life looking over my shoulder to see who’s watching?  Do I tighten, immersed in the fear of doing something wrong?  Do I roam around trying to find opportunities to be good to people?  I say no to all of that.  There’s a flow in the universe that I can launch my raft into.  Natural moments will draw natural responses from me.  May there be far more of building up than tearing down.

At the end of this lifetime, I hope to gaze out on shining streets from the window of my sweet sanctuary.  Until then, I act, again and again, trusting in the person I have become so far.  For, in a Christian context, which is as fine as any other …

Let us build the city of God
May our tears be turned into dancing!
For the Lord, our light and our love
Has turned the night into day!

Becoming Home

I went to the site of my condo today.  Two days ago, the cement foundation was all there was to see.  As I walked towards 12-132 Robin Ridge Drive in Belmont, there was wood!  The base floor was laid and one of the walls of the garage was up.  Oh, Lordy.  I’m just a bit excited.

As I rounded my neighbours’ home, there sat the crew, enjoying a lunch break in the shade.  I asked if I might join them and was welcomed in.  Five young men, happy to talk and happy to share my newspaper.  We were just folks, playing differing roles in the erection of my home, but all needing some respite from the power of the sun.

Soon it was time for them to get back to work and for me to resume gazing upon my emerging kingdom.  Except that the sun’s rays had found their way to our sanctuary.  I looked across the street at a condo that was for sale.  The porch was in shade, and soon my lawn chair and I were too.

The guys had arranged a bunch of 2×4’s on the floor and were soon power stapling to beat the band.  My home … appearing before my eyes.  Those young men were working hard for me in the heat.  Thank you, gentlemen.

Number 12 was no longer just a flat expanse of grey concrete.  That one vertical wall would soon be joined by another.  I decided to record this on my laptop in real time but even in the shade I couldn’t see the screen.  So I got up from my throne, left it sitting there, and drove to … here – the library.  Soon I’ll return to the scene of the action and will no doubt resume my state of ownership bliss.  I’ve never had a new home.  I’ve never seen it take shape.  And I’ve never been a Belmontonian.  Soon.