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    In Which My Camera Sees the Good

    It was one of those days when it was hard to get home.  I’d gone to the museum to see the Harry Callahan at 100 and then went out for tea in Georgetown with a friend.  I stopped on my way home for some groceries.  I got to the bus stop just as a bus was arriving, but with a big suburban SUV hogging the bus stop and the dark rainy night, the driver sailed past without stopping.  He must have been really late and was taking advantage of a short break in traffic.  I caught a taxi rather than wait in the cold rain for the next bus.

    Traffic was completely still on K Street because of the police trying to clear out Occupy DC from McPherson Square and a number of streets were closed off to traffic, so the driver went to H Street, which was almost equally congested.  Things started to move for a bit, but then there was then some issue with another big black SUV with suburban plates in Chinatown that had been pulled over by the police.  This resulted in absolute tirade by the taxi driver as to why DC should not be allowed to be a state.  I was having trouble explaining that Federal voting rights for citizens in the District had nothing to do with whether the cops could have pulled the car over better or faster so that it would less obstruct traffic.  I gave up completely when he started in on how DC schools should be better than Maryland’s and Virginia’s because they had so much more tax revenue.

    I remembered I had my camera in my pocket.  I accepted the the meter was going to run unless I got out of the taxi in the rain (and then what was I going to do?) and enjoyed photographing the lights of the city at night.  Sometimes, my camera really helps me accept whatever is and see the beauty in it.

     

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    Ways to Ask Permission

    I’ve been on staycation for the holidays. I’ve taken a few asana classes around town in studio spaces I haven’t been in before.

    In two of the classes, the teachers stated at the beginning that they give physical adjustments. Both teachers asked while students were in child’s pose, so that the response was only for the teacher.

    One teacher asked students to make a sign if they did NOT WANT to have adjustments. The other said to make a thumbs up if they WANTED adjustments.

    I noticed a palpable difference in the degree of consent because of the emotional difference for me between having to actively say no to avoid unwanted touch as opposed to being told I would be left untouched unless I specifically gave permission. There is also a difference between simply allowing touch rather than specifically having to say I want to receive it.

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    Theater of the Absurd

    Last night I went with a group of friends for dinner and to see “Hell Meets Henry Halfway” at the Woolly Mammoth.   We all had a most enjoyable time, although the play was pretty negative.  What could you expect, though, from a play based on a 1930s novel written by a Polish exile that was about declining monarchies and social depravity, etc?  What relieved the bleakness of the outlook was the slapstick playfulness of the acting and staging.  It was also a pleasure just to see beautiful technique, and acting was wonderful.

    As the recession deepens, I have been trying to go to see more theater and dance, to support local theaters and restaurants that I care to have still in my world.  It would be easy to settle into a mindset of anti-consumption at this time.  Better I think, even if we are trying to shift the consumer orientation of our society, to become ever more mindful in our consumption, being especially mindful of those around us are struggling from the sudden shift.  The right action, I think,  for those who cannot help but recognize problems, or suffering, or even absurdity, is not only to seek change, but also to see the playfulness in everything to keep the spirit vital and to be able to accept the change that might not be realized despite our best efforts and intentions.

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