Sunset and a Question
I regularly–as a meditative contemplation (bhavana)–ask myself how does my life contribute to perpetuating systems of injustice and harm to our whole eco-system? Then I contemplate what to do about it.

Discussion of physical aspects of yoga (on and off the mat)
I regularly–as a meditative contemplation (bhavana)–ask myself how does my life contribute to perpetuating systems of injustice and harm to our whole eco-system? Then I contemplate what to do about it.

I’m spending the weekend via Zoom with Michelle Johnson, for a “Skill in Action” retreat, where she is creating and holding the space for exploring how we individually and collectively can act to bring more communal justice, through anti-racist action, in our own lives, in the yoga community, and in society. She has been doing anti-racism work for 20 years, and has been practicing yoga and teaching since 2009. She published “Skill in Action,” in 2018. I read it several months ago. She said that she was flooded with orders the weekend after George Floyd was murdered.
What changed? Was it the confluence with the pandemic? Will we engage enough to make this an opportunity for lasting change or will those who are least impacted get weary or bored? What can would be allies do to help make it the former and not the latter?
I’m up late writing this after having spent a couple of hours dancing around and getting ready for tomorrow and contemplating and, of course, playing with Maitri.

I don’t know how I missed this pickling cucumber before it grew to such enormous proportions. I’ve scooped the seeds and pulp and added some water to ferment for a couple of days. Then I will dry the seeds that don’t float and save them for next year. This plant has been more successful than prior efforts to grow pickling cucumbers. They may have cross-pollinated with the Persian cucumber, but I’m trying to expand my seed-saving beyond the easy herbs and greens.
I won’t know how well I’ve done until next year, when I try to grow cucumbers from these seeds. There is a sense of connection to the cycles of life, with such required patience with the changes of season.
And the cucumber falling from the vine, ripe, and ready to go to seed, is a line in the Maha Mrityunjaya mantra, chanting to release and aid the passage of spirit from this realm of consciousness.
Here’s the garden after the thunderstorm. Please take some healing, grounding breaths and then take action about increasing federal military presence in cities with peaceful protests.

When feeling overwhelmed by the state of things, I’ve been trying to look for comfort not with the “old normal” methods, but in positive possibilities for the future–building community and sharing sustainable nourishment.


I am not missing getting a mani-pedi. Never did manicures. Stopped polishing my toenails right before I went to India in 2017 because it was one of the things that I was holding onto that I could let go of that was bad for the environment. I’d been painting my toenails for long enough that it took several months before they looked clear.
I’m glad I don’t miss painted toenails. I would have, however, preferred to see my hairdresser of 36 years, rather than have snipped at the back of my hair myself this afternoon.
Did you practice any yoga today? Did you find yourself raging or grieving over the cruelty, injustice, ignorance, and selfishness in this country? Did you appreciate something in your life? Did you speak out and/or give money or time? For me, that’s pretty much been a daily “yes” to all those questions for years.


My first reaction when seeing young people go past my house without a mask, is to ask, where’s your mask? My second reaction may not be kind. I am trying to make a habit of thinking, may they be happy–starting in the middle of the litany.
That may be more about enlightened self-interest, than exercising true compassion, but it’s a start.

What are you reading this week?
