Avilokitesvara– god(dess) of compassion had one head and two arms. Zhe didn’t have enough ears to listen to all the stories of suffering, so one of the buddhas busted one head into eleven. Avilokitesvara’s two arms broke from the weight of helping, but instead of two arms broken and worn out, two arms broke into a thousand arms.
Or instead of or in addition to writing, practice of any kind that feeds and expands your soul.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
This tree was just up to the height of the porch roof when I first moved into this house. We have been growing together for quite some time.
Thanks to the gracious hosting by Woven History and Silk Road, I will be offering my first public, weekly yoga practice, since the beginning of the pandemic.
It’s an all-levels, accessible, mask positive, donate what you may, yoga practice. We’ve chosen to begin with World Central Kitchen in recognition of those struggling to get food in too much of this world of which we are a part.
The practice will be Thursday nights from 6:00-7:15pm. We will practice either outside (weather and mosquito permitting) on the back patio (brick) or in the shop (carpet floor). Please bring what props you like for practice. It’s great to have at least a towel to have something personal to lie down on for any recumbent poses.
What we will practice will depend on who is there and what are the needs and wants of the day. Expect some combination of breathing practices, meditation, and movement focused on facilitating our embodied experience.
Woven History is at 311 7th Street, Southeast, between Eastern Market and the metro.
For questions about the space, including access (the front has a few steps), please contact Rabia at Woven History Road@gmail.com. For questions about the practice, please contact me or comment on this post.
Here’s an aerial view of the back garden on the equinox after I spent several hours cleaning, deadheading, repotting, mulching, etc. As you can see, the moss is ecstatic from having had the weight of the snow on it for several weeks. Coming up in quantities almost enough to pick are lettuce, spinach, cilantro, parsley, chives, onions, lemon balm (always have too much of that — if you’re local let me know if you want some). The first rosebud emerged sometime between Friday and Sunday. It is hard to believe that just a month ago, I was blogging about indoor gardening — how to find delight even when snowed under (scroll to the bottom of the linked post to compare pictures of the same view).
As you can see from comparing the two photos, things were still growing under the snow or getting ready to do so. That is what practice is like for me. Sometimes I feel completely snowed under by an injury or rush jobs at work or personal circumstances beyond my control. I keep practicing, but I don’t have the time or energy for long practices or full weekend workshops, when it is easy to get to a place of delight. Other times, things are less pressured, and I feel brimming over with health. Then practice feels wildly effulgent. For my garden to offer its full potential (as is true with my practice), I need to spend lots of time and effort in it for the next several weeks. I know that if I do so, I will be blessed with fullness.
