A time for dancing
Peter Brooks “Meetings with Remarkable Men” finished the day – sacred dances brought from the East by Gurjiff. In the morning, Patience and I discussed the fact that she had started life as a trained ballerina and gone on through successive iterations of becoming a dancer.
I told her that I too had held a passion for dancing. The subject came up while reflecting on the moving terrain of our world today and how a dancer’s legs will come in quite handy with all that is afoot.
I told her I had been to a lecture some years back and shamanism. The lecture had been dry, devoid of any feeling of the subject matter. Nonetheless I came to conceive through the introduction that I had a shamans DNA and that my method of expressing the mystical had been through dance. When I failed to fulfill on that nature, movement was taken away from me.
One nature dies, another is born.
Patience, LB and I had a trying emotional time last evening working on the details and tensions that arise when living in a cauldron of focused practice to awaken to the precious nuance of being. Bed was late. I woke at 3 AM, put on the words of a wisdom teacher with low-volume and rested.
Meditation came early, wariness was in the room.
I sent Patience, who had come to help me, to take breakfast for herself and to walk with Uma to nourish her soul. I sent text messages to my father, daughter, and stepmother to encourage his health and well-being. I heard very little back. Times are hard there.
Nurse Denise came to help with the catheter change. All of the rising practice now happening in reverse this morning. 11 AM arrived and we were still making our way through the practice. We opened the laptop to join the conference for the class we are taking on the later stages of human development.
Folks wondered why our camera was off, but as I was naked and we were still putting things together, we opted not to share.
The course was 90 minutes, about halfway through we made it to the dining room table, dressed and ready to ask questions.
Breakfast was after 12:30 PM. Some miscellaneous clerical catching up and by 2 PM I needed to lie down, dysreflexia having the better of me. I rested easily for a few hours and rose again to work further on the workshop. Then dinner.
My mother called partway through, giggling to catch me with my mouth full, to say hello and that things were well with her. I shared news of my father, encouraging her to use her young Crone powers to send healing and well-being his way.
Then the movie, now writing, now bed.
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…