Ross (the Boss) of NDG's Blog

We have been talking recently about the little human habits that can transform NDG: noticing people, greeting strangers, listening to stories, making room at the table, and celebrating the good. Today, let's try something different. Instead of asking, “How can we transform NDG?” Ask: “What if I simply took responsibility for my block?” Not responsibility in the official sense. You don't own the sidewalk. You aren't responsible for everybody's problems. You certainly don't need another job. This is something much simpler. It is a promise to yourself: Wherever I live, I will leave the little piece of the world around me better than I found it. Imagine 1,000 Tiny Headquarters We sometimes imagine community transformation beginning in an office, city hall, a community centre or a large organization. But what if its real headquarters were everywhere? An apartment on Somerled. A duplex near Monkland. A home off Sherbrooke. A balcony. A front porch. A lobby. Every one of t...

  Over the past few days, we've talked about noticing who is missing, giving someone five extra minutes, celebrating the good, listening to one another's stories, and always leaving room for one more. Today I'd like to make things even simpler. Imagine if we adopted one tiny community habit throughout NDG: The Ten-Foot Rule. Whenever another person comes within about ten feet of us, we acknowledge them. That's it. Not necessarily a conversation. Not an introduction. Not even words every time. A smile. A nod. A wave. A simple: “Good morning.” A little signal from one human being to another: I see you. We Have Become Very Good at Passing One Another Think about how many people we pass in an ordinary day. In the hallway. On the sidewalk. At the grocery store. In the elevator. At the bus stop. In the park. At the gym. We can be surrounded by people and still move through the world almost entirely alone. Eyes down. Lost in thought. Rushing somew...

  Yesterday we talked about two chairs and the extraordinary things that can happen when two neighbours sit down and discover one another's stories. Today I want to talk about a different chair. The empty one. Imagine a neighbourhood barbecue in NDG. The tables are full. Children are playing. Music is playing. People are laughing. And at every table there is deliberately one empty chair. Not because somebody cancelled. Because somebody might arrive. Someone new to NDG. Someone walking past. Someone who came alone. Someone who doesn't know anybody. Someone wondering, Do I belong here? That empty chair quietly answers: Yes. There's room for you. A Community Can Be Friendly Without Being Easy to Enter This is something worth thinking about. We can be surrounded by wonderful, friendly people and still feel alone. Walk into a room where everyone already knows one another and you'll understand why. People aren't being unkind. They're simply talki...

Today, a dream became something we can actually watch. The first trailer for  Come Away With Me  is now online. And as I sit here watching these 105 seconds, I find myself thinking about how unlikely this whole adventure has been. A short time ago, I had a story. I had an iMac. I had an AI I affectionately call  Einstein . And I had a dream: Could one ordinary person, working from home with artificial intelligence, create a beautiful feature film and somehow offer it to the world as a Christmas gift? Today, we took a very big step toward answering that question. Come Away With Me  is the story of a life. My life. But I hope, ultimately, it becomes a story about  all of our lives . It is about dreams pursued and dreams lost. About falling down and beginning again. About finding love when you least expect it. About neighbours, strangers and the extraordinary importance of seemingly insignificant moments. About discovering that perhaps the greatest things in life a...

  There is a simple picture of community that I love. Two chairs. Not a committee. Not a building. Not a program. Just two chairs facing each other. Because before we can transform a neighbourhood, we have to know the people who live in it. And sometimes that begins by sitting down. We Know Faces Before We Know Stories Think about how many people you recognize in NDG. The woman you see walking her dog every morning. The man who always catches the same bus. The cashier at the grocery store. The parent standing at the school bus stop. The neighbour you've passed in the hallway for five years. We know their faces. We wave. We say hello. But often we don't know their stories. Where did they grow up? What do they love? What have they survived? What are they proud of? What do they dream about? What do they know that we don't? Every person walking past us is carrying an entire lifetime that we may know absolutely nothing about. What If We Became Curious ...

  Every neighbourhood has problems. Potholes need fixing. People struggle. Organizations need volunteers. Families need support. There will always be something that could be better. And we should work on those things. But there is another question I think we should ask more often: What is already going right? Because every single day throughout NDG, people are doing wonderful things that almost nobody hears about. A crossing guard remembers a child's name. A restaurant slips an extra meal to somebody who needs it. A neighbour carries groceries upstairs. A teacher stays a little longer with a struggling student. Someone picks up litter that isn't theirs. A teenager helps an elderly neighbour with a computer. A church prepares food. A business owner gives someone a break. A stranger holds a door. A bus driver waits another few seconds for someone running toward the stop. None of these moments will make the evening news. But perhaps they should make our neigh...