Ross (the Boss) of NDG's Blog

  There is something wonderfully human about food. We need it to survive, of course. But food has always been about much more than eating. We celebrate with it. We comfort with it. We welcome people with it. We say “I was thinking about you” with a casserole, a bowl of soup, a loaf of bread—or a plate containing a little more dinner than we needed. So today I'd like to suggest another tiny habit for transforming NDG. The Extra Plate. Every once in a while, when you're preparing something good, make a little extra. Then think: Who nearby might enjoy this? It Doesn't Have to Be About Need This is important. The Extra Plate isn't a food-bank program. It isn't charity. You don't have to determine whether somebody “needs” the food. Perhaps your neighbour is perfectly capable of making dinner. That's not the point. The message isn't: “I thought you needed help.” It's: “I thought of you.” Those are four very different words. And s...

  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...