2020

On 2020, the God of Christmas, and paying attention

It’s been a year of sadness. Not to bum you out. I’m just saying. And a year of vulnerability. Vulnerable. This was the man outside my house. His name is Victor. He’d walked across the city for some hours, pushing a cart of bottles collected along the way for money.

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And what about the vulnerable among us?

Today is a good day to talk about the vulnerable among us – the mentally ill and the disabled – and doctor-assisted death. Worldwide, only about five per cent of 195 nations allow what’s known in Canada as MAiD, or Medical Assistance in Dying. The World Medical Association also

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If women ruled the world

You have to wonder what life would be like if women ruled the world. Or at least America. Consider the planet and all of its shades. Would it be a kinder, gentler place? One with more peace? A world with easier, more gracious, transitions of power? You have to wonder, too, how little Ruby Bridges felt on that November

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America votes. Again. What would Lincoln say?

Of course, the party would not be complete without Abraham Lincoln. And it’s a good day to ask America’s 16th president what he thinks of it all, Tuesday’s big vote. As I write, on a window sill behind my desk sits a bust of Lincoln, otherwise known as Honest Abe.

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A letter to Thomas Edison

So, Mr. Edison, (can I call you Thomas?), it was at the Westdale Theatre, and I was washing my hands, and this gentleman in the men’s room declared, “That’s the worst movie I’ve ever seen.” I actually thought it was a good show. Character driven. A bit dark, yes, but don’t we all, from the very womb, know darkness?

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Running for Rachael

My friend Sid is a runner. Not that kind of runner, although he’s that kind of runner too. He’s run a half dozen marathons. So it’s not surprising that we’re talking about running, even as we’re talking of other things. Healing. Faith. Death. The face of mental illness. We’re in a graveyard at an ordinary

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Finding Grace (and grace) in our lives

Grace, the Sheepadoodle, is a small dog with big feet who’s happiest when she’s running full-throttle, wild and wide-eyed, tripping over herself down some hill. She’s a dog who knows that life, even in dog years, is so short that there’s no time to waste, even if there’s no place to go

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