Fall in love with yourself

In the green grass of this fresh world

So that the things you seek after

Compliment previous abundance

And not react to thirsty scarcity;

Water is absorbed by a desert

As of it was never really there

But when it falls on fertile earth

This is when growth happens…

Mum pressed play

Sometime around August 1967

And the world keeps moving

Sounds like cars and screams

Sobs and cries and dogs

Or thunder and gunfire

Blend to create this

Terrestrial background noise

That surrounds like the hiss

Of a 1970s television after midnight

Telling you that time is up

Soon all things must end

You see my face

A face

Once

You think you know my story

A story

You’ve constructed the narrative

You’ve measured the worth

You think

“This person is exactly like

Everyone who looks like them”

But you don’t realize

There is no one like me

There is no story like mine

Nothing you think is real

It is all a fantasy

This post will grow over time. These are random, unbaked thoughts that spring up in my head during the conference.

• When more people are uncomfortable than comfortable, change happens…when more people are deeply uncomfortable than comfortable,  revolution happens. The work that needs to be done feels revolutionary.
• Nonprofits are mission based… mission is the mandate.
• Pursue impact, not interest.
• The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house
• Is there alignment between how you grant, how you invest and your mission statement?
• Indigenous Entrepreneurship Fund
• Indigenous Home Ownership Fund

Everything is money

Joy is money

Love is money

Life is money

Poverty is money

Gender is money

Housing is money

Food is money

War is money

Politics is money

Death is money

Life is money

Sex is money…

Everything is money

Except money

Money is mythology

Packaged as power

And consumed as a god

That we might purchase

Eternal life

There in the eyes

Are things seen

And things done

That play like old movies

Across torn screens

Forever and ever

For all to see

So we torn our heads

Avert out gaze

And hide

Choosing to stumble in the dark

Than to let people witness who we are

Where is the right place

For me?

This person that i am

That never fit in,

This person that i am

That never felt aligned

Isolated in the crowd

Standing still in the dance

From where

Does this dis-ease spring

If not me?

Am I where in supposed to be

And will I know when I’m there?

I bought a new bike

But I kept the old one

Justincase

I loved the new one

The fresh, bright paint

The quick breaks

In every way

It was better

I left the old one in the garage

And would look at it

From time to time

To reminisce

About the goods old days

When it carried me

To places of childhood mythology

These days the sun sets fast

Like an eclipse that pauses;

The moon stands still

And the world becomes grey

Covered in shadow and ash

And you can only sit in the dark

And wait

Toronto is newer

Than it once was

Shinier, taller

As if self-conscious

Of its colony status

So it sought to be other;

But the old city remains

Kensington is crowded

And Massey still sings

Close your eyes

The streetcars and the subway

They sound the same

While the old couple

Crossing the street in Chinatown

Step right out on traffic

Unconcerned,

Stop or drive over us – your choice

Toronto stands

A picture of everyone

From everywhere.