Details:

Ever have that thought first thing in the morning when you look in the mirror?  “I’m a mash-up”. Probably not. Perhaps something more along the lines of “I need a haircut”? Maybe our lives would be altered for the better if we changed the first cogent thought we have in the morning into something that makes us more aware of the fact that we are formed by what we let into our lives. That way, we could make better choices about what we filter out, what we take in, and how we manage the fact that we’re both surrounded by troubling stories (and it won’t do to treat them as if they don’t exist), but also neuroligically evolved for optimism. When we look at it that way, it’s not that hard to see that some dissonance might result. What to do?  That’s the terrain I’ll be exploring in the Talky Bit this week.

We’ll be meeting online this week (hardly newsworthy, perhaps), but we also have the first date for an “in-person” gathering for 2022 to let you know about!  We’ll be meeting at Justin’s place on March 20th! Whoop! Mark that date! Our last in-person gathering was just before Christmas. I don’t know about you, but to me that already feels like it was ages ago. I’m excited about seeing faces and hearing voices without having them flattened by the screen. We’re still working on the details of actual dates beyond that, but aiming in the short-term at the rhythm of “one on / one off”, alternating between in-person and online, at least until we can be outside more often in the summer. And we’re also making some progress on securing a venue starting after the Labour Day weekend so we can move back into more regular gatherings in a public space. We’ll keep you posted about all of that. Also, I know this move back into in-person won’t be obvious or seamless for everyone, and want to state again our commitment to continuing to livestream for those that are not able or who choose not to attend in person.

On a very practical note – donation receipts for this past year have now been mailed out. If you supported The Table financially this past year, you should have your receipt by now. If you don’t, or if there are any discrepancies between your records and that document, let me know and I’ll put you in touch with Justin to sort out the details.

A very big “THANK YOU!” to everyone that has continued to make the existence of The Table possible for another year. On this level, the equation is very simple. No donors = no Table. What we get to do together is made possible by the participation of many people in many ways. Money isn’t the whole story, but it’s a pragmatically important one. I’m confident that I speak on behalf of many of us when I express my personal conviction that when we gather to explore what we believe at The Table, in a space where it’s safe to do so, we are experiencing something relatively rare and precious. Thank you to each person that helps make that available to anyone that wants to be a part of it.

On a related matter, watch this space for details about our AGM, which seems like it will involve both pie charts and lots of actual pies, in the faces of actual people, as we practice our own curious ritual for celebrating generosity and teaching our kids that sometimes, on very rare and wonderful occasions, it’s o.k. to mash a pie into the face of an adult. (I’m just glad I don’t have to try to explain the nuances of this to my kids). No boring meetings, please. 

The Details:

This week, we’ll meet online 

One of our adult “kids” is a poet. Not a dabbler; a for-real, published-in-journals poet. I think they’re pretty darn good at it. I’m biased, of course, but find some solace regarding this opinion in the fact that the journal editors, who get hundreds of submissions but only publish a few, appear to agree with me. So there!

A statement like the one in the subject line might elicit a knee-jerk reaction along the lines of “Of course we can believe things that aren’t true!”. Most of us can think of some instance or other where we believed something that seemed plausible to us, but that later turned out to be untrue. We might feel somewhat differently about the “easy” part of the statement, preferring to regard ourselves as those not so readily duped; the thinkers, the clear-headed ones, the “seekers-after-truth” segment of the wider, more gullible population. As we will explore in the Talky Bit this Sunday, all those descriptors might honestly represent something about us…and it can still be easy to believe what isn’t true. That’s the bad news. There’s good news in there as well, but I’m going to save that for Sunday. 

I thought I would keep it simple this week with a folk saying that explains our place in the universe…in one sentence. This shouldn’t take long. I’ll see you on Sunday at 10:45 a.m., when we’ll gather here for some music, a chance to share what’s going on in our lives, and the story I mentioned above. After I explain everything (and I mean, EVERYTHING!), we can hang out together on Zoom during ALA. And just in case we don’t quite come to tidy conclusions in that amount of time, we can get together on Wednesday evening to continue the conversation. (I trust you recognize both sincerity and sarcasm when you see them. An unlikely pair perhaps, but sometimes they do hang out together.)

This week’s blurb from Tim Plett:

Hey folks – I’m sitting in my mom’s living room in Saskatoon, watching her wind down the day. Of course, I’m watching her wind down more than that. It’s a deep honor to be made welcome into the space and conversations of someone you love as they reflect on both their past and present and consider the legacy those have shaped. It prompts my own reflections on many things, not the least of which is why I choose to live as I do; what beliefs give rise to the decisions and choices I make, and how I might have chosen differently if I had believed differently. All of which reminds me that an examined life, one in which I deliberately explore what I believe and am prepared to evolve those beliefs, is the one I want to continue to live as long as I am able.

Well, here we go – adjusting, again. I would add a smiley face emoticon, but honestly…it’s a bit of a tough thing to smile about. That said, I remain grateful for the means of connecting we have, and for all the people that don’t live here in Winnipeg who have been able to be part of our explorations, in no small part because circumstances have compelled us to go virtual. By way of information, our plans at present are to be entirely online for the balance of January, to do a mix of virtual and home gatherings in February and March (dates to follow), and keep you posted about April. As far as the in-home gatherings go, if there is anyone else in the community that is interested in their place being one of the venues, let me know. It would be helpful to spread that around a bit if possible.

As we all know, there are lots of variables and the largest social experiment in history (a.k.a. pandemic management) continues apace, so it’s a bit hard to be dogmatically predictive. I’d ask for your continued patience, but I know that might be getting a bit tapped out as well, so instead I’ll thank you for your continued persistence.  Now that I can add a smiley face to. 

A bit vague, perhaps? Yes. However, also like a couple of pieces of a larger, much more complex puzzle in which ancient spiritual explorers the world over started to ask similar questions about the cosmos, the Divine, and why we humans even think about things like this. We might not find it surprising that humans that had no other connection to one another would have similar questions, but it remains a curious and informative thing that in historic terms, that happened to a bunch of us at the same time. This week in the Talky Bit we’ll explore what we have in common with those explorers, and how that connects to what we do here at The Table.

All righty…that’s it’s for now. I’ll (sort of) see you on Sunday. Or you’ll see me on Sunday, but I’ll be thinking about you while you do. Or something like that. 

Peace,

Well, here we are on the cusp of a new year. I know this whole calendar thing is quite arbitrary and not even shared by all cultures, but in our shared context the turning of the year still feels like we should do something to mark the moment.

Under the present circumstances, perhaps one of the things it suggests is that we pause for a “well, we made it this far” moment. The pandemic has been hard on everyone, and as is often the case with hardships, more difficult for some than others.

As a community, we have a lot to be thankful for. Our relatively uncomplicated way of operating has made pivoting to “virtual” more obvious and simpler than it might otherwise have been. Our musicians have all risen to the occasion of making their contributions from their own homes. Our Leadership Team has been united in its commitment to working within the public health guidelines, for which I am personally very grateful. Financially and operationally, we continue to creatively sustain ways of connecting and (when allowed) gathering in person.

And speaking of pausing to take note – on the matter of finances, we now have enough money in the pie fund to make a thorough mess of not only my face, but those of all the members of the Leadership Team! However the individuals in question might feel about their pending “pie-ing”, this is something to celebrate! We’ve reached the goal Atticus so creatively outlined for us, and at some point in 2022 when we can do this in person we’ll turn the Littles loose on the whole Leadership Team, pies in hand. I love it!  A HUGE shout out to all those whose generosity made this, and of course our ongoing existence, possible. If you are still considering a year-end donation, you can find info about how to donate online here. Donations are tax receiptable. More info about that in the year ahead.