Tuesday morning: I'm grabbing a breakfast of over-easy and bacon in an assemblyline joint on Bloor Street with tables lined cafeteria-style facing the TV. I wait for my refill to burn away the clouds in my brain. The deadline is upon me but I can't concentrate beneath the diatribe of doom and disaster, blaring from the TV: seeds buried in the arctic anticipating the apocalypse. My blank notebook screen stares accusingly. I should have written my article two days ago.

Yesterday was a marathon: morning drive to the city, set up, concert, stop-and-go across town to pick up jewelry supplies, and an interminable counseling session into the night.

Finally alone in the car with the upholstery draining my body heat, I realized I had to be down here again today for another concert. Why in blazes hadn't planned? Images of my warm bed dissipated as it dawned on me there was no point driving home.

Without calling I pulled in behind Jeff's, trudged through the snow, stepped into the kitchen and took off my shoes... a safe haven on a freezing night.

A young man stirred chocolate in a pot on the stove - a pile of strawberries waiting on the table. Two friends chatted in the living room, something soft and Caribbean drifting from the speakers. Folks in other rooms draped in various degrees of camaraderie: the denizens of Monday Sauna Night at Jeff's.The sauna itself was crowded. Someone held a two-year-old up to the window, saying, "See? There's Mommy."

I lay down and snuggled into the heat of a familiar body, waiting for an open spot on the bench.

About five years ago Jeff, recently separated, returned from California to find his old friends had moved on. Perhaps recalling the famous line from Field Of Dreams, "If you build it they will come" he put a sauna in the back room upstairs.

Every Monday is open house at Jeff's. Together we sauna, eat, catch up, make plans, and be comfortable in a loving space where people can feel protected.

Really, every day is open house at Jeff's. When I need a

place to crash I go to Jeff's. If a group needs a place to meet, someone will say, "We'll use Jeff's. I'll let him know."

If someone wants to do a HAI workshop and can't come up with the whole amount, I go to Jeff. The payback for him is it gathers more loving people into his fold.

Last night, after the sauna had drained the ache from my weary body, I lay in a bed on the third floor, too exhausted to think about what to write. But this morning as he and I sat and smiled in the glow of each others friendship, grabbing a moment's respite before lurching off to another marathon day, my heart flooded with the blessing that Jeff is. eric@ericnagler.com