I’ve neglected my writing, my ficus is dead, my dog is angry with me because I haven’t been home all week, and my job is hectic enough right now that my boss went out and purchased our own in-office Bozo the Clown inflatable punching bag.
Still, I must persevere, and share a morsel or two in the interest of communion.
A fascinating new work colleague was kind enough to take me to a dance show tonight, and I wasn’t really into the first act, I will confess. I was tired, and kept fantasizing about my dog, and my pyjamas. The second act however, consisted of two exquisite “dancers” and a multimedia artist accompanying them with a series of looping pedals and what looked like a mandolin. These “dancers” were in fact Dervishes, and one of them was a woman.
She began the piece, against the backdrop of grainy film footage of several male Dervishes, whirling in blurred soft focus. She was regal, and all in white, with mosaic-like shards of mirror sewn into the hem of her voluminous skirts. As she began to turn, she instilled in me an immediate sense of peace. I was transfixed; and my eyes didn’t leave her. The tension in my shoulders eased, the line between my brows softened.
Eventually, she was joined by a stately man in red and black who began to turn with her. Both were lost in their own mind-space, somewhere with God, but acutely aware of where each other had claimed their space. The were moving about the stage too, it wasn’t rooted to one spot. The music was layered over the sound of a record that had come to the end of its rotation, which only now strikes me as poignant, and it was a delicate compliment to their quiet contemplation.
The man and woman then moved closer to each other and began turning very closely with one another, while still maintaining their own perfect rotation. After spinning quite steadily for about fifteen minutes, this was indeed a feat. They were perfectly aligned, perfectly in tune to something greater than us all, and perfectly respectful of each other. It was so, so beautiful.
If we are in harmony with self, and in harmony with spirit, perhaps these moments of perfect union become more possible.
“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” – Rumi
Another beautiful entry. I also love what you’ve selected from Rumi… he has a permanent spot on my mind’s bookshelf. Your writing reminded me of the often-quoted and lovely poem by Khalil Gibran: