Ross (the Boss) of NDG's Blog

  What if we made NDG the most appreciative neighbourhood in Montreal? Every morning, thousands of people throughout NDG get up and go to work. Some prepare our food. Some clean our streets. Some drive our buses. Some teach our children. Some care for the sick. Some stock our grocery shelves. Some deliver our packages. Some maintain our buildings. Some open their little shops long before most of us are awake. And many of them do their jobs so quietly and consistently that we barely notice. Today, I'd like to suggest a beautiful little idea for transforming NDG. Let's become a neighbourhood that notices—and says thank you. The People Who Make Our Days Possible Think about how many people contribute to an ordinary day in your life. The person who prepared the coffee you enjoyed this morning. The driver who brought your groceries to the store. The employee who swept the entrance to your building. The crossing guard who helped a child safely across the street. The person who collec...

  Sometimes the greatest gift we can give someone is our undivided attention. There is something remarkable about a person who truly listens. Not someone waiting for their turn to speak. Not someone glancing at their watch. Not someone already thinking about what they're going to say next. But someone who looks you in the eye and makes you feel, for a few precious moments, that nothing in the world is more important than what you have to say. Today, I'd like to suggest something that could quietly transform NDG. Give someone the gift of being heard. We Live in a World That Rarely Stops Talking Everywhere we turn, something is competing for our attention. Televisions. Computers. Advertisements. News. Appointments. Responsibilities. Our own thoughts about everything we still need to accomplish. We have become extraordinarily good at communicating. But perhaps we haven't become quite as good at listening. And there's an important difference. Communication exchanges informa...

  There is a simple question that could quietly transform NDG: Who isn't here? Whenever we gather—a coffee with friends, a community lunch, a church event, a neighbourhood meeting, a game in the park—we naturally notice the people who came. Today, I'd like us to begin noticing someone else. The person who didn't. Not because they were busy. Because perhaps they didn't believe anyone would notice whether they came or not. Loneliness Doesn't Always Look Lonely The person who needs an invitation may not appear lonely. It might be the gentleman who lives alone down the hall. The widow you see at the grocery store. The newcomer whose family lives thousands of kilometres away. The student who just moved to Montreal. The single parent who rarely gets invited anywhere. The person with limited mobility who has gradually stopped going out. Or simply someone who has spent so much time alone that they've stopped expecting invitations. They may smile. They may say they'r...

  There is a wonderful moment that happens between two people. At first, they are strangers. Then they become familiar faces. We see each other in the elevator. At the bus stop. Walking the dog. At the grocery store. Outside the school. We smile. We say: “Good morning.” And then, one day, somebody asks: “By the way, what's your name?” Something changes. The stranger becomes Maria. The man at the bus stop becomes Robert. The woman behind the counter becomes Fatima. The teenager you see every morning becomes Daniel. And suddenly our neighbourhood becomes a little less anonymous. Today, I'd like to suggest one of the simplest ways imaginable to help transform NDG: Learn one person's name. Names Change Relationships There is a big difference between: “Good morning!” and: “Good morning, David!” Both are friendly. But the second says something more. It says: I remember you. I recognize you. You aren't invisible to me. That's an extraordinary message to communicate with a ...

  What if transforming NDG began with the twenty houses, apartment doors and storefronts closest to where we live? Not the entire borough. Not Montreal. Not the world. Just one block. Today, I'd like to suggest a wonderfully simple idea: Adopt your block. Not officially. No forms. No committee. No title. Simply decide: “This little piece of NDG matters to me.” Notice What Needs Love Walk your block slowly sometime this week. But this time, don't just pass through it. Look at it as though you're responsible for making it a little better. Is there litter beside the curb? Pick it up. Is a recycling bin lying in the street? Stand it up. Is there a branch blocking the sidewalk? Move it. Did someone's newspaper land halfway across their lawn? Bring it closer to their door. Are flowers growing in front of a neighbour's home? Tell them they're beautiful. Is there a local shop you've never entered? Go in and introduce yourself. Transformation often begins when somebo...

  There is something beautiful about a table. A table is where families eat. Where friends linger. Where stories are told. Where children do homework. Where disagreements are sometimes resolved. Where strangers can become friends. And on this Sunday morning, I'd like to imagine tables appearing all across NDG—not as part of a program, but as part of a culture. What if we occasionally shared our tables with someone we don't normally eat with? Food Has Always Brought People Together Almost every culture on Earth understands this. We celebrate with food. We comfort with food. We welcome with food. We remember through food. And somehow conversation becomes easier when there is something to share between us. A bowl of soup. A plate of samosas. Pasta. Bagels. Coffee and toast. A family recipe brought from another country. It doesn't have to be impressive. Because the most important thing being served isn't really the food. It's belonging. One Extra Portion Here's a wo...