Power Day Off: Less, as always, is more

Power Day Off: Less, as always, is more


"All week long we focus on what is not yet happening and what needs to be changed in the world and in our lives. Our energy goes to 'getting things together' and 'making things happen.' On Shabbat the energy goes in a different direction: it is focused on what is already there in your life, and on what you already are. The goal is to celebrate all that—to be grateful."
—Michael Lerner, Spirit Matters

You've heard of the power lunch and the power nap, right? Well our family is making a tradition of what we call, tongue in cheek, Power Day Off. Like its namesakes, Power Day Off maximizes the benefits of the average day off. What makes it different is we use as little power as possible. It's a day off of work for us and for our labor-saving devices.

We don't run the dishwasher, the vacuum, the dryer. We don't turn on lights. We shun our computers. We light candles and play Scrabble or sing or fumble around the kitchen to cook. As darkness falls we take our candles upstairs and read by candlelight, or talk, and go to bed early. Lest you think we also sit on high horses and look down at the lowly grid addicts, I should admit that we are not yet even trying to function completely without power on Power Day Off—we use gas to cook; we keep our fridge plugged in and open it for food; we leave the front light on so our house isn't completely black; and we use the phone if we feel "called" to do so.

But even with the few changes we have been able to make, it feels like a real day of rest. Quiet. Dark. Nothing to do but be together. People have been doing it for thousands of years. In Judaism it's called Shabbat, and as Michael Lerner points out in the above passage, Shabbat involves a redirection of energy, and it seems fitting that our bodies and our homes should turn inward and become still. Lerner promises that the restrictions designed for Shabbat quickly come to be viewed as "liberation" by those who enter into the practice. In addition to not using electricity they can include the avoidance of: money, work, cooking, housework, writing, building a fire, fixing anything, errands. He says "Focus on pleasure." It's good for the soul and good for the planet.

It becomes harder to take power for granted during the rest of the week with an imposed limitation on its use for just one day, and let's face it, for all the technology coming down the pike to help us maintain our high-energy lives, we're going to have to learn to cut way, way back. This is one old tradition worth reviving, if you haven't already.

"A Really Nice Day"

The world has got to get on the stick about climate change. Preferably a pogo stick. The smell of spring has been lying oppressivey upon the land since November.

Our friend and tenant has just returned from three days of training with Al Gore and is even more enthusiastic than she was before, if that's possible, about getting the Hudson Valley on the aforementioned pogo stick. More later on this. In the meantime, if you're reading this I hope you've started your Low-Carbon Diet!

Around here we are reading two ends of the (sane side of the) ideological spectrum on all this, both recommended: Natural Capitalism by Lovins et al and Endgame by Derrick Jensen. (
A review by a Salon blogger

The good news is that we're not burning any oil today.

We are thinking of instituting a weekly No Driving day and a separate No Electricity Day (doing them both on the same day would be too tricky for us). Put that in your mouth and spread it! Sabbath: a day of rest for the planet. A day to get out your pogo stick, or if you're more adventurous, your Flybar.

A Fine Way to Celebrate Solstice

It was off to the city today to see The Magic Flute at the Metropolitan Opera with the kids. What a lovely time—beautiful music, fine voices (I especially liked Erika Miklosa as the Queen of the Night and the trio of spirit boys who were inventively conveyed), spectacular lighting and sets. Of the puppets I particularly liked the birds, who fluttered beautifully without needing to be monumental. It was our first family trip to the Met and I was gratified that my 7-year-old daughter insisted on buying a CD in German to listen to while falling asleep and asked when we could go see another opera at the Met.

Love and art: who needs religion?

Why say more about a three-year-old production. If it's not old hat to you, read New Yorker critic Alex Ross's review.