Today the pleasure of singing songs, playing games and playing powerful music from Zimbabwe, Netherlands, Ghana, Uganda, Philippines and Japan, with my colleagues in the other rooms visiting Venezuela and Indonesia. Radical healing work that invites the participants to consider whole new ways of organizing sound, bringing new rhythms and melodies into their bodies and breaking the illusion of “the other,” exposing the lie of “us and them” and bringing it all together into “we.”
Then home to make a watermelon salad with some gazpacho, corn and chicken sausage. The salad has cucumber, mint, feta cheese, a touch of arugula and of course, watermelon, but when it came time to consider the dressing, my wife reminded me: limes. Which we didn’t have. So I walked the block and a half to my corner store and lo and behold! There they were. For $1.50, I walked away with two limes and a lemon, a pleasant short conversation with the Ethiopian storekeeper and the sense of gratitude that this sweet little corner store has weathered the onslaught of the large corporate markets and has faithfully served us since we moved here some 37 years ago. The walk instead of the drive, the exchange with someone who recognizes me, the sense of supporting small business— one of those little things that adds up to a quality of life far beyond the Costco run to the mall in a car. I like it and am grateful.
Perhaps I should have learned an Ethiopian song for tomorrow’s class?