This is My Body, This is My Blood

The Dance of Rapture

Imagine yourself lost within the sound of a heartbeat, distant drumming that pulses like a lost memory in your subconscious. You stand with your feet planted on the floor, your head slowly rocking from side to side as your shoulders begin to roll, your arms lift as from unseen strings, and your hands dance like moths around a campfire. Soon your rigid spine becomes liquid, your rusty hips loosen themselves from their lazy hinges until finally, your feet can no longer stand in one place.

As the music ricochets from all corners of the room, your elbows find each other behind your back, your hands intertwine to tell their stories, and your breath finds a home deep within your belly. Gradually, you move in wider and wider circles as the drums shift from a steady beat to a more chaotic rhythm, joined now by joyful voices and exotic instruments of sound. As you dance around the room, your body frees itself from the limits of the mundane and you drop deeper into your dance. You’re vaguely aware of the other dancers moving around you, lost in the ecstasy of a moment where body meets soul and becomes one again. You move, you moan, you sing, you cry, you sweat. You become the dance itself.

This is the Dance of Rapture. Some call it Ecstatic Dance or Trance Dance or Sacred Movement, but the names all mean the same thing. Dancing wildly is a moving meditation, a childlike freedom, a dance with The Divine. It is permission to lose your inhibited self within the folds of a trembling drum, the smile of a perfect note, the emerging light of another dancer’s blissful glow. For a brief time, you are a barefoot child again, unbound by the constraints of societal limits, and it is there that the child remembers what she never should have forgotten: I’m free.

Photo Credit: Philip Novotny (Dance Church Facilitator)

Learning Curves

Life is all about lessons. Lately mine has been to sit back and take some time to reflect on the things I've learned so far in this life. What follows is a partial list of my "living education". It isn't (and never will be) finished. I hope you'll use this prompt as a meme for your own blog or personal writing.

WHAT I'VE LEARNED

 

I've learned there's nothing like a spontaneous howl at the moon to win me over.

I've learned I'd rather risk wet hair than miss out on a chance to dance in the rain.

I've learned it's not just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it is to fall in love with a poor one.

I've learned the perfect place for a kiss is between the scapula when you wake up during the night, snuggled up to your lover's back.

I've learned I need to laugh.  A lot.

I've learned I can outwalk a morning fog.

I've learned a well-placed whoop can pierce the madness of melancholy.

I've learned to say yes more.  I've learned when to say no. 

I've learned dogs smile at you when you're not looking but if you're quick, you can catch them. 

I've learned I am not who I was and that tomorrow I won't be who I am.

I've learned that what I thought wasn't sexy, is.  I've learned what I thought was sexy, isn't necessarily.

I've learned to cry rambunctiously, without caution, so all the tears find their way out.

 

I've learned I'd rather feel the earth beneath my bare feet than worry about getting them dirty.

I've learned sleeping with a dog under the covers is worth a few dog hairs on the sheets.

I've learned that sleeping between 300+ thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets are worth every meal I skipped to buy them. This also applies to good coffee, massage, and pedicures. However, I've learned that Two-Buck Chuck goes down just as easy as a $100 bottle of wine.

 

I've learned that snow is always prettier on Christmas morning.

 

I've learned my vagina is connected to my heart, and that you can fuck someone you love, but you can't make love to someone you don't.

I've learned that messy women usually make the best lovers.

I've learned it's better to write for yourself than for an audience.

I've learned that no matter how you raise your children they will still do what they do and it's not a reflection on your parenting, but the measure of the guilt you feel when they screw up, is.

I've learned if you stop asking your kids questions, they will give you the answers.

 

I've learned you can cram a lot more than you think into a flat rate Priority envelope. 

 

I've learned to sift through my friendships and keep the strong ones, let go of those that no longer serve me.

I've learned that no matter how much what someone does or says that hurts, it's never about me.

I've learned  a friend can become a lover, but you risk sacrificing the primary relationship by altering the way you relate.

I've learned some risks aren't worth taking.

 

I've learned no matter how many times I look it up, I will still spell guarantee wrong the first time.

 

I've learned that saying fuck too often dilutes the effect, but sometimes it's the only word that fits. I've learned one of those times is when you give birth, which is kind of ironic.

I've learned that irony is the Universe's way of having the last laugh, though sometimes my own laughter comes much later than the event.

 

I've learned that the God of my youth is a lot like an Imaginary Friend, and that my adult imagination isn't monotheolithic.

 

I've learned that no matter how hard I try, I will never understand the appeal of Anime'. This also goes for playing violent video games, watching sports, getting so drunk you puke, and faking orgasms.

I've learned that having 300 braids is sexy, but going bald on account of the extensions isn't.

I've learned that even when I think I could never expose my soft underbelly again, I eventually find myself on my back; open, vulnerable.

I've learned there are always exceptions to every lesson

I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.