Tales from the Dance Jam #5
I went rather late tonight, which was all in good time. Spent the earlier eve being mellow, relaxing with friends around the fiery cauldron, nestled beneath the five-pointed atrium with a starry canopy. Arrived with a light head and some anticipation; the body was received into the space with ease and the warmth of people moving. Dancing. Doing contact and yoga. Howling. Bouncing off the walls. Welcome home.
It didn't take me long to settle. Before I could emerge to dance I was greeted by a fellow drummer from a few weeks ago, during the revisit-to-the-power-outage-jam. We made a connection, albeit brief, on that evening, and then I was thoroughly pleased to encounter him again - at the Folsom Street Fair, me decked in leather - at The Hole in the Wall, no less! So amidst our laughter we greeted each other, and I migrated to the side to stretch and do self Breema. (On tangent, I got my shiatsu mat today! Portable Breema, wherever I go, yay!! Want a treatment? ;) I forget what the feeling of the first song of myarrival was like.. but it brought me into movement. And that's all, movement, is really needed to remind us that we are indeed children of the universe.
Shortly thereafter, as I begin to whirl to the music, I see a floating dark goddess shrouded in black, she blends past my twirling vision, she begins to circle and bring the Dance of the Graceful Ancients into the View. I find various tangent lines to my circle, sine and cosine movements along the line of Time, coming to meet her at a hyperbolic contact.. our energies matched and yanked us off the tombstones and into the dark of night. Whirling through the misty clouds, sometimes a tango, sometimes ballroom, sometimes spinning together looking into the jewels of the dark eyes, sometimes falling down, laughing, maybe bruised but always rising to the dance again. It is Zahara, my oft partner in crimes against the repressive forces of stifled creativity. It is so easy for us to take the universe by the reins and throw open the barricades; watch out world, we'll chew you up!
Just before Zahara and I latched onto the sweeping movements of a quasi contact jam, I was close to entering onto one with my drummer friend. I was beginning to sink into his dance, his energy, his beauty, his boyish charm.. when wham!the universe swept me off into the moonlight, reminding me to stay in my body and register my breath and weight, and know that it is all good. Enthralled with our play, the boy comes around to dance the dance of the flowers on the edge of our runway. The song is now Love Shack, and while the B-52's airplay may have waned, their energy re-entered and swept across the room brilliantly. Enters boy, a joy indeed, for three-on contact and swirling and crazy group dancing. Laughing laughing all fall down; Zahara and I pile on one another laughing hysterically.
Soon after, she leaves; her persona wishes to dance the night away, her body tells her it is definitely time to settle, downshift, and migrate into the land where dreams dwell and take us on boatrides through mystical lands. A beautiful departure, hug, and flowing dance gestures; she is off.
I found myself twirling less, and did manage to get a few good whirls in. The "braking" was more balanced, and I look forward to being able to handle that kind of dizzying energy with a more open energy field. It's intense! And a powerful tool for tapping Ether. I also found a lot of slow movements to be balancing, soothing, and opening.. words aren't too great for relating, and it's 2am now.. a kind of slow yogic dance that I'm really getting into.
I keep intersecting with my drummer friend, dancing and then moving onward, then retreating to another space and being filled and washed with fantasy. But let it not be a thing of the mind, lest I get frustrated and anxious. My body breathes, my body has weight on the floor. I come to center, and know that the delicious sexual moment in my mind can also be present with my whole body, without judgment, without the need to do anything in the world other than just drink in the moment.
He kneels on the floor and drums; I kneel opposite and complement his drumming. Much fun, very grounding. The mind must let go of the "he" and the "other" and any tension about this; this is a moment of surrender in order that the fabric of the universe might work correctly, play its sweet strings with the correct vibration. Let go. Let go of the extra. And drum. And play. And have the most fun.
A fun sister joins us to play, slapping on the ground with feet and hands, clapping, and letting sweat fly. The song is "Love Me Do," bouncy and playful to The Beatles, who would have thought? Don't think, just bliss out.
More dancing, more yoga, more sounding and yelping. Music is changing. I see the boy lying prone on the floor. I feel inspired by Breema to go play. I lay my hand directly on his lower back, and knew with my whole body that it was the right place to lay my hand. The other hand begins "kneading" or shaking up the back, in a movement we call kenbiki. The brief treatment calls on some movements I learned recently in class. I get to lean down either side of his spine with my thumbs while straddling him; ordinarily I would have lost focus and gotten very hot and bothered, but in the treatment the emphasis is on me and my experience, and his body becomes clay, or bubble gum, and I am simply leaning into my thumbs. No extra. The song ends, lending to an applecore brush up the back, and the music fades, bringing my hands over his scapulae and off the arms, the lean becomes lighter and lighter and fades off his body with the music. Namaste.
I see him prepare to leave, and must take the initiative to bid fond farewell. We decide we should get together in the future to drum and play (music, and Goddess be willing otherwise), and our sister drummer (whose name is utterly eluding me now) comes to bid farewell and trade numbers. As I am talking to the boy outside the dance floor, another brother sees us and approaches. His gaze follows the ambiguity I sense at dance jam a lot however seems more pointedly interested. We discover together that we each study a different modality of bodywork, and have a wonderful bonding hug over this. I say, "Feel the earth beneath us" and our energy shifts and sinks into Her. Beauty is before us, behind us, above us, and below us. More fascinating conversation, even delving briefly into things parapsychological, quantum mechanics, Gurdjieffian, and otherwise. I realize that my new friend is departing, I don't have my things, and can't walk out with him... hrmmmm... what was that look? We each shared a parting hug and the looks were laden with things I don't quite understand. I ascribe mutual interest among the three of us; does it really matter? I mean, isn't the blessing of the Goddess a sweet honey to taste on our lips - ephemeral, passing like water down the Ganges? My body breathes, has weight, is free of judgment, so just be. We take our separate paths into the night.
It is delicious to see the various fruits blossom off trees I planted years ago. Wants, hopes, desires, magickal workings, the expression of my evolving Breema training. For so long I have wanted to meet people who do the things I desire in my life, for example, the spontaneous drumming and bodywork. And my focus, and subsequent frustration, has been on the people, and meeting them or not meeting them. Saying something or not saying something. And it becomes clearer that a Breema principle is alive for me there: emphasis is on the practicioner. Meaning, me. If I worry about where and when we'll meet, who he'll be, where we need to go to establish the networks that will bring us together, etc. then I am using force. If I am using force, I am not present. If I am using force, I'm not doing Breema. So the things will manifest; for so long, have I even recognized them? Stopped to appreciate them? They come about tonight, and I see them clearly. Blessings! I am thankful, even if I die tomorrow I have been bestowed with sweet gifts. So the emphasis is on me, the desire then becomes manifest, and those things and events are nurtured, and I am not worried or afraid that the people won't be there, and that I'll be alone. All good things will come about in the sharing with others and with community, with family, and honoring the inherent gift of widening the circle by meeting new people and growing together. When the emphasis is on the other people, I am not present with myself, and thus cease to exist. Coming to my timeless nature, I find myself present, at ease, and connected with the people I desire to have in my life. And it's not a profound head-trip, it's a very simple activity of the body to be present and to breathe.
So somewhere in the future lies the outcome of deepening a connection with my new friend. Will that connection remain within the confines of that space, of the dance jam? What of past patterns of people passing through like a revolving door? My body knows it is not time for that, the ephemeral nature of past connections doesn't have room to move here, and is invited and in fact required to take part in registering that I am alive and am breathing. And dancing. And continuing to dance. And singing. My car is holding its ears from the concert I delivered on the way home. And it loves it. I love it. May my heart be open and filled with joy. May that light pass through me to those around me. And may we dance together. There's just nothing better.
(posted by Shaggy, 10/9/99)