Tales from the Dance Jam #7
A world of joys. A world of sorrows. A world of rhythms. A world of freaky funky freedom. Freestyle dancing, drumming, yoga, Breema, contact, structural realignment, old friends, new friends, smiles, vicarious dancing, onlooking, eyes closed, blindfolded, long hair, spirit of the drum, cow bell, the sofa that grabs you, humming, sounding, bebop-doo-wopping, ecstatic experience, release, the grounding and nurturing earth, the cleansing air, the fluidity and formlessness of water, and the licking, pulsing, rising, spreading flames of fire, changing and flowing within, one after the other or all at once, the cosmos knows we're all dancing the same dance. In our wild diversity we are unity, and we know it when the vibrations ripple between us and unlock the barricades and falsehoods, unleashing the laughter, the crying, the wild dancing, the slowness and timeless movements, the intense hugs, the looks into the eyes of another like peering into the bottom of the deepest point in the ocean. This is a healing space, and music moves us all. That music rises from silence, silence emerges from awareness, and that which is aware is existence itself. So let go and move to it.
The rest must be brief, as it is late. Dance Jam is a funny space, very variable, the energies are different weekly. Tonight I agree with my couch-bound friend (whose name eludes me) that energies were a bit scattered. Perhaps it was because there were so damn many people. I love it, I dig everyone digging it, I dig it myself, and part of digging it is being able to move. And that's becoming difficult, even with two studios. The "Warm Room" waxed and waned, a few people played music, and Ken's beautiful flute and clarinet invited in a few percussionists, and eventually morphed into the rise and fall of the drum and percussion jam. I joined in on tambourine and found an opportunity to really let go and taste the rhythm, dive into it, say my piece through the jingling slap of wood and cymbal onto the floor, hearing others speak their piece, no, really listening to them. And responding. "I hear ya brother!" "I hear ya sister!" Mika (forgive me if I spell names wrong) helped lay down some nice rhythms, and Sundancer really invoked passion to her djembe. The other nameless faces smiled radiantly and their bodies moved in sacred motion of making music. My wrists still feel a bit weak after pouring some soul into those bongos. How intense to look up from my own ritualistic dance with the gods to see at least 50 other people in the temple, riding the ecstatic waves of the divine!
Somewhere in being overtaken by the surge of current, Jeremy leaves and my hands are unable to leave the bongos, spinning the prayer wheel whose inscriptions bear secret and old wisdom. I do not bid a warm and proper goodbye; goodbye, friend, thank you for being in your body and knowing yourself without limits, and radiating that presence.
More drumming and chanting and sounding, which waxes and wanes, and a vibration/chant begun by the few of us playing that almost immediately surrounds the room as everyone lifts their voices to sigh, wail, tone, om, sometimes in unison (as much unison as can be obtained in chaos..) and other times the joyous sounds of cacophonic release.
A return to the "main" studio, where Mika is playing some danceable grooves, and I soon after find myself flowing along with Elana in a watery dance that emphasized the hands. When our hands lost contact, they would know it, and seek each other out, and dance around and carry on whole conversations with each other, the likes of which our minds could not wrap around nor pay attention. I felt that mental chatter or judgments or "reasoning" would seek to break things down, so again I find myself learning to let go, to be still and quiet, yet move every muscle in my body to feel its awakeness, its aliveness, and be in the connection without trying. Sometimes there I can't find words to have whole conversations with people, but that social discomfort seems to disappear in movement, in music, in other expression. Engaging those parts of ourselves lets us open to new connections we might not have on conventional social levels. Elana's word for the fluid dancing was "fun." Indeed, indeed!
Can't seem to ever leave that place! Greeted by Sundancer on the way out, we skipping and lept and waved our arms like little children around the dance floor, which was now becoming more spacious. People must be going home now, it's 12:30, no, they're all going into the Warm Room to slow down and change pace before leaving. This could be an all-nighter! Moving out into the foyer, there's Jacqueline, ritualist, intuitive astrologer, who is all smiles and hugs, and we slink into toning to the song that Mika has put on.. hey hey hey yea yea yea vibration of life and sliding up and down the tonal (atonal? heh heh) scales, a few others join in and out, others are amused, it becomes a meditation of sorts.
Fond moment: I lean back over one of those large "posture balls," big inflatable rubber balls that you lay on and supposedly helps your back. I flip back and let my head drop, and my entire field of view is occupied by two hot men in an intimate contact dance. They know I'm watching, I merely allow myself to be part of the dance and not an intrusion to it. Then the two men, regulars whom I mentioned in the last missive, came into the room and began contact exercises and play, right next to me, as if they knew somehow unspokenly that I would enjoy watching them. They chose the space, perhaps they knew I would watch as I moved in my own way to my own rhythm, feeling the range of motion of my body, distracted somewhat by their hot bodies at play practically under my nose. Acrobatic as they are, one picks up the other in a way that would break my own back, and spins him around onto his shoulder, his face directly in the other's crotch, unflinching, brilliant balance, the ultimate turnon and portrait of male erotic artistry.. yet nonsexual and unsuggestive, and then the moment passes. The universe explodes in that moment then passes on its merry way.
I notice myself more and more letting go of judgment, of wanting, of desire to be in that kind of contact, to dance the dance of joy and bliss with my mate.. letting go of the idea that I don't have that, as if he and I are separate, as though I have to look outside myself for that fulfillment and companionship. So it became enough tonight to watch, to absorb, to bring these hot moments into myself and feel their etheric rushes, and move right along the path. The past evokes frustration and loneliness, and part of the work is letting go of the past and future, or rather not getting caught up in them. In being present, infinite wonderful events manifest, people move into closeness and intimacy, and more energy is available for manifesting our will and desires.
(posted by Shaggy, 1/29/00)