What does it mean to be at home? To feel at home? Inside your body? Your embodied self in the world? In the place you name “home?”
There hasn’t been a day in the past two months when I haven’t needed to cover my nose, mouth, and ears because I needed to walk past someone using a leaf blower.
They stink with burning fuel, stir up allergens, and aren’t really any more efficient than a rake and a broom. Why are they so ubiquitous? And why is that I have never seen a woman using one, but I have seen men of all races, ages, and socio-economic status cheerfully using one?
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Dear Friends,
I hope you are having a great day and that the ice did not cause any trouble for you. It was fun, in its own way, to hack the ice off of the steps and sidewalk and then, only a few hours later, see the ice melt.
As the sidewalks (and streets) are now merely wet, I can walk safely the eight blocks (my assessment of whether to cancel class in winter weather is based on my cautious assessment of whether I feel comfortable walking the distance to class). Class is on at William Penn House tonight.
Hope to see many of you.
Peace and light,
Elizabeth
I was supposed to have been in Seattle, but work kept me in DC. Instead of cancelling the substitute who had graciously agreed to lead the practice, I took the class. It was sweet to practice with my students without leading.
