It’s morning and I’m waking up in my sleeping bag on a charter bus, which has become my temporary home for 9 days and 8 nights – with 30 other people.
Last night I stretched myself out on the bus seats that convert into sleeping spaces – a place that reminds me of a cross between a European sleeper train and the blue and white VW bus in which we had our camping adventures in the 70s when my sister and I were small.
I’m on a 9 day adventure with 30 new friends of all, ages, colors, creeds and backgrounds, and we are on a mission to dance our free form dance practice (known as ecstatic dance) in as many places as possible this week.
Why? Because we know the transformative power of the dance and want to share it with everyone!
If you’ve been following this blog or read my book you know that free form dance is very important to me. You know that I believe that this kind of dance is an exact metaphor for how I/we can live our lives in all of its authentic fullness.
There are so many examples of what I mean by this. Here’s just one:
When you are in a room full of people, dancing to world beats and rhythms, and moving your body in whatever way it wants to move, magic happens. The chatter of my mind begins to drop away and the present moment is all there is. In this now state my body begins to move me in whatever ways feel right. And I give myself permission to surrender to my body’s wisdom. In this open state I let myself feel into any emotions that want to come up.
Why is any of this important?
When we are not distracted by television, politics, our personal stories and dramas – when we connect with the deepest parts of ourselves – healing occurs and the ground for growth becomes a fertile garden. Magic happens in your personal garden.
Seeds of change and creativity get planted. New ideas and solutions sprout up from the darkness. What is no longer needed gets honored and transmuted into the earth. The soul gets watered.
A couple of days ago our group took our dance spontaneously to the state Capitol building in Sacramento, CA. Pretty soon folks began to gather. A group of monks even stopped by to smile and take a picture.
The next day we danced on the shore of a sparkling blue lake, not another soul in sight, surrounded by geese chatter and the scent of freshly dewed pine trees. I felt gratitude to be able to dance in my full authenticity in both of these completely different places. My garden felt rich and full with all the tending.
At the end of the dance on the lake, I found myself walking away from the group, inspired to some alone time, appreciating.
Still in the now moment, I felt the call of the lake, and freely stripped, dipped and floated, the rays of sunlight guiding me as I swam through the clear waters. I was highly aware that the dance had brought me here; it’s not often I swim in a lake in my birthday suit. Up till now!
Come join the dance, friends! What alchemy will you create in your own garden?