Ross (the Boss) of NDG's Blog

  There is a beautiful moment that happens almost every day in a neighbourhood. Two people who have seen each other dozens of times finally stop being strangers. It can happen in a grocery store. In an apartment lobby. At the bus stop. Walking the dog. At the gym. For months, perhaps years, they have smiled, nodded or said good morning. Then one day somebody finally says: “By the way, I'm Ross. What's your name?” And suddenly everything changes. Not dramatically. But importantly. Because the next time they meet, it isn't: “Good morning.” It's: “Good morning, Catalina!” And there is something wonderfully human about hearing another person say our name. How Many Familiar Strangers Do You Have? Think about the people you regularly see in NDG. You may recognize their coat. Their dog. Their car. Their children. You may know approximately what time they'll walk past every morning. You might even worry when you don't see them. And yet… you ...

  There is a question we ask one another constantly: “How are you?” And there is an answer we give almost automatically: “Fine.” Most of the time, that's perfectly fine. But sometimes it isn't true. Sometimes behind “fine” is loneliness. Or exhaustion. Or worry about money. Or a difficult morning. Or grief. Or simply the feeling that life has become a little too heavy. So today I'd like to suggest another tiny habit for NDG. Ask twice. Not everyone. Not every time. But when something tells you that the first answer might not be the whole answer. The First Question Is Polite “How are you?” “Fine.” The second question is different. “No, really. How are you doing?” Suddenly the conversation has changed. You aren't demanding an explanation. You aren't trying to fix anything. You are simply communicating: I wasn't just being polite. I actually care about the answer. And sometimes that is enough to open a door. We Don't Always Need t...

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...