Dance Is My Medicine

Conscious dance is my spiritual practice, it is also my healing practice. Today I went to my church in Oakland with my daughter (click here for essay about Burning Man for more info about how it is that I suddenly have a daughter). If you witness me on the floor, you are witnessing me getting my medicine. I went to Ecstatic Oakland today so that I could have some fun with my daughter, and chat over brunch. Dance was great. I saw many people I haven’t seen in a long time. People from the playa, people from Maui, people from Marin, and spirits I’ve known lifetimes and met in these bodies for the first time today. What a gift! 

 

Big reveal here <being vulnerable> I’ve had an *unhealthy/obsessive/unrequited love/deeply spiritual/karmic/on and off*   <—yes it’s truerelationship with a man that lives a block away for 11 years. Nothing compares. But then again, nothing ever does. Each relationship is unique. 

 

Insert soundrack here: BØRNS - 10,000 Emerald Pools + Led Zeppelin - Fool In The Rain

 

Heart hurts just thinking about it. Sigh…But today at dance I was reminded that I have an infinite number soul mates. I am not on this journey alone. I have a pack. I have a community. It is mobile. It is in motion. I am stepping through it. I saw a man at dance today that I fell in love with once upon a time. Seeing him. Feeling him in the space. Hugging him reminded me that it’s there right in front of me at all times. It truly is within me. The guy down the street has nothing to do with it. I said a prayer, and felt static on the line. A woman named Laura with a big diamond ring helped me move the energy to open completely. I have never seen her before, and I have no idea how she did it. Once I felt my breath moving through every meridian of my body I was able to dance all that is true. I was surrounded by gods and goddesses. I could feel the beams of light. I know this sounds corny and out there, and I’m even skeptical when I hear someone talking like this, and then I feel it. I actually feel it. Sober. Grace. Bliss. Joy. Divinity. It’s right in front of me. It’s in my hands. It’s moving through my nostrils, it’s meeting the soles of my feet. It’s lifting me to meet all that is. Beautiful dances. Enchanting really. So many beautiful butterflies.

 

After the music and closing pieces were complete,  a man I don't know well approached me and my daughter and said that he cannot be friends with me. Told me he can share this community space with me and won’t disturb me. He told me the reason why he can’t be friends with me is because he didn’t like that I gave him a compliment about being a great dancer and that I remind him of his mother. Ok, I said. I felt his anger coming at me. It didn’t feel good. I shifted my body language to be open and facing him as he spoke. I realized this is about him and not me. I will not stop giving compliments and positive support to people around me. And the fact that I'm bringing up mother things for him just makes me smile. I used to let it upset me. Now I embrace it. It happens often enough that all I can do is smile.

 

Back to my daughter. We had a great talk. A lot was shared. She’s an amazing person, and I’m grateful to have her in my life. Her mother died a few years ago and she shared with me how birthdays and mother’s days are of course difficult. My heart sank. I will be out of town. Fuck! I then remembered the Honeyroot Mothers and Daughters retreat. I want to go next year with my daughters. So daughters, you know who you are, if you’re reading this and you want to confab with me about a workshop or talk for next year about family of choice, let me know. We have plenty of time to make it real.