Ross (the Boss) of NDG's Blog

  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...

  There is a kind of help that almost anyone can give. It doesn't require money. It doesn't require joining an organization. It doesn't require giving up an afternoon. Sometimes it takes five minutes. And those five minutes can make somebody else's day considerably easier. Today, I'd like to introduce a simple community habit for NDG: If you can make someone's life easier in five minutes, do it. The Little Things That Aren't Little to Everyone Imagine your elderly neighbour struggling to carry groceries from the car. “I'll grab those for you.” Three minutes. Someone in your building receives a heavy package. “I'll help you get that upstairs.” Four minutes. A newcomer is confused about which bus to take. “You're looking for the 105? I'll show you where it stops.” Two minutes. Someone can't figure out the parking meter. Someone needs a jar opened. A parent is wrestling a stroller through a heavy door. A neighbour needs a lightbulb changed b...

  We often imagine community as something we need to create. Perhaps sometimes we simply need to slow down enough to experience it. Most of us move through our neighbourhood with a destination. We're going to the grocery store. Walking the dog. Catching the bus. Picking up a prescription. Heading home. We know where we're going, so we take the quickest route. Today, I'd like to suggest something different. Once this weekend, take ten minutes to go nowhere. Walk Without a Destination Step outside your home. Then forget about getting somewhere. Walk slowly. Look around. Take the street you normally pass. Notice the little garden somebody has created. Read the poster in the shop window. Listen to the children playing. Look at the architecture. Notice the old tree that has probably been standing there longer than you've been alive. Stop when something interests you. Sit on a bench. Don't count your steps. Don't check how far you've gone. For ten minutes, simply ...

  There is something quietly powerful about an empty chair. At a kitchen table. On a front porch. Beside you at a community event. At a café. At church. In a park. An empty chair can simply mean nobody is sitting there. Or it can mean something much more beautiful: There is room for you. Today, I'd like to suggest a simple idea for transforming NDG. Whenever possible, leave room for one more. Someone Is Waiting to Be Included Every neighbourhood has people who already belong to circles. Families. Friendships. Teams. Congregations. Walking groups. Coffee groups. Parents who know one another from school. Neighbours who have lived beside each other for twenty years. That's wonderful. But every neighbourhood also contains people standing just outside those circles. The new neighbour. The widower. The newcomer to Canada. The teenager who doesn't quite fit in. The senior whose friends have gradually disappeared. The person living alone. The parent who always seems to be by themse...

I’d love to invite you to take a few minutes to read something very close to my heart. Dreams and Desires of My Heart  is a beautiful reflection of the world I dream of—and the life I hope to help create. I hope you’ll read it.  https://rossg3.ca/resources/ Dreams%20and%20Desires%20of% 20my%20Heart.pdf