Tag Archives: Love

Day Four: Love Blossoms

It’s not just in the orientation: love can unfold when the soil is rich. Derek and I started our day at Café 64. A woman smiled at us in welcome as we walked in the door and she never stopped. It didn’t matter who Dawn was talking to – the love came rushing out of her eyes. A couple walked in with their very young kids and Dawn was down on one knee in a flash, cooing at the infant. I shook my head in wonder as she greeted new folks. Finally I asked her: “Do you smile in your sleep?” She smiled.

Now in the hotel, our Evolutionary Collective orientation was well underway. During one practice, I was opening to the love offered by my two partners. A fellow looked at me and said “I want you to be so very happy.” No one had ever said such a thing to me. His words and eyes went deep into my heart. I was transfixed. Such a pure wish for my well-being.

Later in the day, it was again my turn to be the focus of attention. Three partners gazed into my eyes and then shared what they saw inside me. I heard words such as “spark”, “surprised at being loved”, “explosions”, “you are love”, and “both childlike and wise”. I was nourished. I was seen. Near the end of my time, the others were asked to call forth even more of me, for me to be an even deeper Bruce. Woh. And when it was someone else’s time to be at the centre, I delighted in looking way deep into their eyes and calling forth their best.

Six of us went to supper, and unlike many of my group experiences, the conversation was not watered down. We wanted to serve each other. So often comments were responded to by one of us, rather than the new speaker immediately starting up a new topic.

At one point, after I had been joking with Derek, he got really angry with me, saying that I wasn’t respecting his boundaries. I went to his eyes and stayed there. Even though I was churning inside with the criticism, I loved him from eye to eye. We maintained the gaze for a long time, and held hands for a bit. In the words of one of our witnessing companions, we “returned to love”. I was moved by our courage to “stay on the inside”, to not let the issue overwhelm the relationship. And our friends held us in love.

A white rose shone amongst us all.

Day Three: Loving Strangers

Our Evolutionary Collective orientation started today. Thirty-two of us gathered in a hotel meeting room to feel our way into “unity consciousness”, the sense that “we” is so much more powerful than “I”.

I knew about half the people in the room. Many of them I love deeply. I expected that when we’d do spiritual practices together, I would experience big differences in the depth of connection I’d feel with loved ones compared to strangers. The actual result? Not so.

Our first experience centered on two concentric circles of human beings. Our leaders had figured out a way for us to spend twenty seconds with each person, looking way deep into their eyes. Silent communion. Melting. Being with. It was a stunning cycle of love.

Later a new configuration was presented to us. Four chairs made a cross shape. After each was occupied by a fine human, another four folks took their places behind each chair, with their hands resting on the seated one’s shoulders. The lower people each looked into the eyes of the person across the way, while those standing did the same. The seated folks took turns describing what they were experiencing while all these eyeballs up and down met their partners. A multi-level lattice of sweet energy amplified by a sequence of voices. Immense power flooded me, and I was in love with humanity, especially the unique versions in the room.

As the afternoon flowed along, I “saw” a broad ribbon twisting around the room, festooned with all those lines of energy crossing at right angles. At the centre of each intersecting line was a human being and there were many, many intersections. A glowing community of life … stretching worldwide.

After day one, we’ve already created a holy space together. More opening to come on the morrow. To love and to be loved is a blessing beyond compare.

Day One: The Journey Begins

It’s a journey down roads and across borders … to Asheville, North Carolina. It’s also a journey of the heart. I’m heading to an orientation to the work of the Evolutionary Collective, a network of people from around the world who are exploring consciousness.

I’m a member of their Global Community where we meet several times a week on our laptops and smartphones. We ponder questions: What are the possibilities of relationship between two or more people? What is the future pulling us towards as we evolve? The heart of our work is a 30-minute practice where two human beings face each other and ask the question “What are you experiencing right now?” And on Friday, Saturday and Sunday I get to do this in the flesh, three-dimensionally.

To fall into this loving consciousness for an hour online is a blessing. What in heaven’s name will it be like when we’re in a room together for eight hours a day? That’s twenty-four hours of communion. I can’t even imagine.

I walked into Amy’s Restaurant in Strathroy, Ontario a few minutes ago. They just opened and breakfast beckons. I’m the only customer. A woman who I’m guessing is Amy just walked over to me, smiling. I returned her greeting and turned to face the empty tables.

“Welcome to Amy’s, one of the finest places to eat in Canada. I’d highly recommend you make a generous donation to her in your will since the food is so great.”

Amy just stares, and then breaks into another huge smile. She rushes over and gives me a sweet hug. (By the way, she is indeed Amy.)

We humans touch each other, if both parties are willing. And I’m so willing.

Thank you, Amy. We’re on that precious road together.

Lost in Love

“Write about this.”

“I can’t write about this.  I’d get a paragraph done and then have nothing more to say.”

“Is this real?”

“Yes!  Supremely so.  It sings in my soul.”

“Sounds good.  Just begin and see where it goes.”

“Where it’ll go is fifty words tops.  Far better to write about that.”

“Does that sing?”

“Well … not really.”

“So what kind of writing would that be?  I’d call it CRAP!  Write what you love or shut up.”

“Hmm.  Okay.  Fifty words here I come.”

***

I was on the Evolutionary Collective Global call on the internet tonight.  There were thirteen of us.  We began with the teacher teaching a bit.  My face started pulsing.  A soft energy encircled my eyes.  There was a sense of falling.  My muscles were falling.  I was slow.  I was soft.  Woh …

“What’s happening to me?”  I still felt safe but the space around me was huge.  It seemed endless.  My eyes were glazing.  I felt like I was swooning, falling into a very deep hole.

And then it was time for the thirty-minute practice with one other person, selected randomly.  “Pam” and I started.  We looked way into each other’s eyes.  More falling.  The thought came: “I’m lost.”  And somehow delightfully so.  There was no danger.  The swirls of energy on my face intensified.  Sharp edges disappeared.  All was blending.

I became disoriented.  “Where am I?”  Again, no sense of deficiency.  Just floating free, untethered from the mother ship.  As I looked into Pam, she appeared as The Beloved.  There was no feeling of romance, no hint of sexuality.  There was merely and fully loving my friend, wanting all good things for her, wanting her to be supremely happy.

I teetered on the edge of unconsciousness.  No joy.  No bliss.  Instead, there was awe … and a supreme dissolving.  There was no Bruce.  There was no Pam.  There was simply love.

The group had an opportunity to share towards the end of the hour.  I told the folks what I’ve told you.  Others touched on a similar lostness.  We were falling together.

Two hours later, I’m not as deeply in, but the space still surrounds me.  I’m wondering how I’ve been able to type these words.  All is soft.  All is sweet.  All is well.

***

Hmm.  Quite a few more than fifty.

 

Kindness

I like words.  My second favourite one, right after “love”, is “kindness”.  I’m sometimes moved to tears when one person gives of themselves to another.

Reporters were gathered around The Dalai Lama.  One of them asked “Sir, how would you describe your religion?”  The world’s most visible Buddhist smiled and simply said “My religion is kindness.”  Four words that say so much.

I’ve often written about moments of kindness.  Today I yield to the intelligence and open hearts of many other folks.  I hope you let their thoughts flow into you.

*

Never believe that a few caring people can’t change the world
For indeed, that’s all who ever have

Margaret Mead

What is true power?

*

The simple act of caring is heroic

Edward Albert

Who are true heroes?

*

No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted

Aesop

How about picking up an eraser that a classmate has dropped?

*

When I was young, I admired clever people
Now that I am old, I admire kind people

Abraham Joshua Heschel

I’m good at using words in unusual ways
Putting my arm around someone’s shoulder is far better

*

Three things in human life are important: the first is to be kind; the second is to be kind; and the third is to be kind

Henry James

What, no cunning intellect, no dashing good looks?
No … neither of those

*

I feel the capacity to care is the thing which gives life its deepest significance

Pablo Casals

Pablo was an astonishing cellist
He also knew a thing or two about life

*

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle

Plato

And if what if that’s true?
How would that change my speaking and doing and being?

*

You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Will this be the last time I’m with this human being?

*

Be kind whenever possible
It is always possible

The Dalai Lama

Even when someone is being mean to me?
Yes

*

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better
It’s not

Dr. Seuss

Maybe everybody is like me … down deep

*

Always stop to think whether your fun may be the cause of another’s unhappiness

Aesop

Let’s laugh together
Let’s not laugh at together

*

Never be so busy as not to think of others

It might be the worst four-letter word

Mother Teresa

*

There is no exercise better for the heart than reaching down and lifting people up

John Holmes

The physical heart and the spiritual heart … companions

*

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around

Leo Buscaglia

Just say hi

*

That best portion of a man’s life:
His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love

William Wordsworth

Do it
Even if the person forgets that you did it
Or even if they didn’t know it was you

*

Jann

I was in a gorgeous theatre last night in Kitchener, Ontario.  The Centre in the Square hosted Jann Arden, a singer-songwriter from Alberta.  A friend of mine at the Belmont Diner had seen her in London last week.  She and her daughter cried when Jann spoke and sang about her mom, who has Alzheimer’s.

For a long while as her mother waded the murky waters of dementia, Jann tried to convince her that “the orange men on the patio” weren’t really there.  Orienting her to reality seemed like a smart thing to do, but it wasn’t.  Jann had always been competitive but finally decided to let go … the illness wins.  The key moment came one day when Jann walked through the door and mom put up her hands as a shield.  Was she thinking that Jann was about to hit her?  That was it.  Jann changed from shooing the orange men out of her mom’s mind to suggesting that if they’re on the patio, they should at least pick up a broom.

The woman on the stage showed herself to be a full human being.  I enjoyed that even more than the singing and the songs.  A group of women in the front row held up images of Jann’s face in front of their own.  Groupies!  Jann laughed with them … and with us.

At one point she talked about a failed relationship.  “If you’re going to be with a singer-songwriter, and everything starts going to *****, you better expect that you’re going to end up in a ***** song!”  I wouldn’t have chosen some of her words but so what?  Jann was thoroughly herself for 2 1/2 hours.

The woman was transparent.  Her father was an alcoholic and her brother was often beaten up by the man.  The younger one fell into a spiral and ended up murdering someone.  He’s been in jail for many years and every month she visits him, setting aside her judgments again and again and returning to love.

Jann wrote a song for her brother – Hangin’ by a Thread.  It was inspired by something their mom said as mother and daughter walked out of the prison: “I’m so tired of looking at my feet.”  Jann goes inside him and honours what’s there:

When I cry I close my eyes
And every tear falls down inside
And I pray with all my might
That I will find my heart in someone’s arms
When I cry, cry
When I cry, when I am sad
I think of every awful thing I ever did
Oh, when I cry, there is no love
No there is nothing that can comfort me enough
When I cry, cry, cry
All the salt inside my body ruins
Everyone I come close to
My hands are barely holdin’ up my head
I am so tired of lookin’ at my feet
All the secrets that I keep
My heart is barely hangin’ by a thread
Hangin’ by a thread
Oh, look at me, at all I’ve done
I’ve lost so many things that I so dearly loved
I lost my soul, I lost my pride

 

Thank you, Jann, for being with us.  It was a privilege to share the concert hall with you.

Return of the Beloveds

In my better moments, all of you out there in Cyberland are my Beloveds.  I haven’t met you but I know.  Plus every person I see on the street is similarly precious.  As I said, that’s what I feel on my good days.

We all want to be happy.  We all want to contribute in this world.  We all want our lives to matter.  And we want to love.

***

The corn has been high in the field out back for a month or two.  It’s created a cozy feeling on my patio, a sense of sanctuary.  I got back from Toronto a few hours ago, had something to eat and did my laundry.  Then it was off to my bedroom chair for a spell of meditation.  When my eyes opened a few minutes ago, it was dark out there in Southwestern Ontario.  And I gazed at a scene that had been hidden from me: red cars going left to right on the distant Harrietsville Drive and white ones moving right to left.  The farmer had cut down his corn.

The Beloveds had returned.  “I don’t know who you are but I love you.  Travel well to your destination.”  The feeling inside was warm and flowing.  There was a reaching out from my body, through the glass, over the stubble and into the front seats.  Communion with unseen strangers.

***

Several times a week I’m on the internet with members of the Evolutionary Collective Global Community.  Our hour together includes people from all over the world.  For a couple of weeks I hadn’t seen a friend from Ireland.  I missed her.  On Friday, as a gift, there she was on my laptop screen, along with many other rectangles filled with human beings.  There was an intake of breath as I saw her.  Even richer than the cars tonight.

Thirty minutes of our global time are devoted to practicing with one other person, determined each time by some algorithm.  I haven’t spent time with a few friends for a month or more.  Sometime last week, a fellow from California burst onto my screen … and the joy flooded me.  “It’s been too long.”  Reunions continue to blossom.

***

Cars on roads, folks on laptops, a Belmontonian walking through the door of the Diner after being away for awhile … all blessings to me.  And I need to realize that when I return to the school where I volunteer after being absent for several days, I’m a blessing to those kids.

We touch each other

Tarts

I was talking to a teacher a few days ago about our favourite flavours of pie. I mentioned that there was a tie for first in my tummy: pumpkin and lemon. She replied that a gift would be coming my way, and yesterday I received it – six yummy-looking pumpkin tarts. Cue the salivation.

I gazed at the little darlings with lust on my tongue … but then there was a pause. What could I create around these tiny brown circles with 26 Grade 6 kids? I decided to ask them.

“There are six of these and twenty-six of you. How should I decide who gets one?” Here are the young suggestions:

1. Someone who doesn’t talk to friends when we’re working

2. Someone who does something kind

3. Someone who gets all their work done

And there were a couple of others that I can’t remember.

“Okay. I’ve picked one of your ideas and I’ll deliver one of the tarts when I see an example of it. I’m not going to tell you what idea I’ve picked.”

I picked kindness.

Kids were on the carpet as the teacher led a discussion. One boy was massaging the head of the fellow in front of him. Unusual but tender. (Tart)

Then the class was divided into groups, working on putting a series of pictures in some order and labelling each drawing. One girl had been doing the writing in her group and sensed that a boy wanted a turn. She told him to go ahead. He smiled. (Tart)

Four kids were sitting at their desks in a group. One girl dropped her eraser and another one reached down to pick it up. (Tart)

Three more to go but no more examples of kindness showed themselves. So I switched gears. I decided to reward speaking up about important things in front of the class.

I had mentioned to the kids that my wife Jody died four years ago. One young man asked “What did she die of?” > “Lung cancer.” (Tart)

A girl said something that I thought was brilliant, but darned if I can remember her gem. Still … (Tart)

And then I changed my guideline again. As the bell rang for hometime, one girl looked so sad. I walked over to her. (Tart)

***

Yes, I love pumpkin. But that version of love pales before the beauty of human beings.

Enough

My family of professionals were always struggling to learn more and to be more. It seemed there was always more. It was never enough. If I brought home a 98 on a test, my father would ask “And what happened to the other two points?” I pursued those two points relentlessly throughout my childhood. But my grandfather did not care about such things. For him, I was already enough. And somehow when I was with him, I knew with absolute certainty that this was so.”

Rachel Remen

Rachel is pointing to the common stance that who I am, and who you are, is deficient. Sadly, many of us buy the idea. And so we launch a quest to find that elusive “enough”. But I don’t think we’ll ever get there within that mindset. Goal #1 achieved leads immediately to Goal #2 pursued, or Goal #1 enhanced.

I like what grandpa brings to the world. “Sure, strive to improve, but who you are is just fine.” We all need to hear this. Completely separate from our abilities and disabilities, we are golden, shining like the sun.

May you have someone in your life who looks deeply into your eyes and sees beauty there. Someone who nods and smiles when another mentions your name.

My dad was my biggest cheerleader. When I got zero in a university course because I didn’t hand in the one assignment, he sat with me and helped me plan for the future. When I told him that I wanted to hitchhike from Toronto to Alberta (a distance of 3500 kilometres), he said “Go explore” and drove me to the on-ramp of Highway 400. Did I make mistakes? Many. Did he know about them? Yes. Did he keep loving me unconditionally? You bet.

Now I’m a grandpa figure in a class of 11-year-olds. I get to look into their eyes and have them see that all is well. They deserve to know that they are truly worthy of respect, appreciation and love. If I can do this, maybe they’ll pass it on twenty years from now.

And the world will be a better place.

You and Me

My favourite moments in life are when I’m sitting with one other person, talking about things that matter to us.  There’s a sense of connection, of communion.  The other is special to me, and a spiritual light encloses our being together.

I wonder if I can create that sense of intimacy in relationship to other things.  Let’s see.

1.  Life:  The ups and downs of human existence.  The joys and sorrows of the day, the triumphs and failures.  Yes, I can embrace it all, as I would hug a friend at a cozy restaurant.

2.  My Books:  My favourite one is The Grand Option by Beatrice Bruteau.  As I sit in my man chair caressing the pages, the words and I touch each other, quietly and sublimely.  Contact.

3.  The Younger Me:  So many years have drifted down the tunnel of time.  Earlier versions of Bruce scrambled up mountains, created a soulful batik and played cello with a passion.  Now they’re gone from the surface of life but somehow they still sit with me as I sip coffee at the diner.  To be revered.

4.  My Home:  My orange-brick sanctuary.  It’s where my soul has space to unfold.  Favourite chairs and my delicious bed cradle me as I sink into them.  I am being held, as I would by a lover.

5.  My Car:  Scarlet has been my companion on journeys to meditation retreats and to reunions with faraway friends.  She has led me to thrilling sports matches and harmonic concerts.  She knows where I want to go.

6.  My Clothes:  My favourite red shirt, my ancient red toque, the jeans that feel like home.  And don’t forget all those t-shirts with the funky sayings.  They’re part of me, expressions of me.

7.  The Songs I Love:  Where would I be without The Wings That Fly Us Home, Imagine and Dancing Queen?  Such longtime friends and tender reminders of what’s important in life.  I breathe into you and you hold me in return.

8.  The Land:  I am drawn to the fields and forests, the birds that fly high and the streams that roar or meander.  Time often stops in your presence.  We sit together in peace.

9.  My Ceramic Mugs:  I wrap my hands around you and enjoy the coffee you offer.  I am nourished.  I am comforted.  I am happy.

10.  My Body:  Parts that I like, parts that I don’t.  But behold the miracle when they all come together.  Even if some things don’t work perfectly, I celebrate the uniqueness of these muscles, bones and organs, all enclosed nicely in my skin.  I kiss my hand.  I wrap my arms around me as far as they stretch.  There’s a lot to love.

***

Things to be used?
I don’t think so
They’re all you’s to me