A tap on my shoulder signals me to step into the center of a circle of partygoers. This is a dance-off on an autumn Sunday night. A thin, bearded man has also been tagged and now stands in front of me. I start moving in an odd way, what feels like Elaine’s notorious dance on Seinfeld. I’ve never been confident about the way I dance, but I still do it secretly in my great room to my favorite songs. Now I sway my hips and swirl my arms to the sound of techno jazz.
My partner seems relaxed. He lifts his legs and stomps his feet, vibrating his head so that the circle around us laughs. After he and I leave the center and tap the shoulders of two others, they start their dance. Watching them, and the circle of about ten people, I realize that the goal is to make people laugh.
My boyfriend, a tall, strong, German, enters the center with a sturdy woman wearing golden braids, and they spend their ten seconds shoving each other around and smashing their hips together, which causes major hilarity. Another woman lies down on the floor as in a break dance move, though she doesn’t spin. A man jerks with robotic precision. My next turn, I revert to my childhood gymnastics and do a handstand, which draws a few “aahs” from the group.
I laugh along with them, but even though the air smells of apple crisp and red wine and feels of jovial joy, I’m uncomfortable. There is something untrue about this that my mind wants to judge. These are my mate’s friends. I know that my friends would never put on such an exhibition.
Later, thoughts swirl within me as I try to sleep in a queen bed with my boyfriend and his Dalmatian. It’s as though that wild dancing is still happening within my chest. It thumps and jerks through the night. I wake exhausted.
Only during my morning spiritual practice, when I center my attention on my Beloved’s writing, does clarity dawn.
The discomfort has nothing to do with the dance-off. It really was fun, and a beautiful expression of silly joy for our party hosts and their guests. As my Beloved says, “Nothing is unclean of itself.” I’m just afraid that I’m not a funny dancer. And when I really look at this, I realize that it’s okay. I don’t have to be. I see how this experience reflects life. How often during our days are we tapped on the shoulder and asked to enter the game?
The usual response is just what mine was, to play for the crowd, to try to be pretty or smart, to please the boss or mate, to win the game, the move, or the love—to compete and to try to be what we fear we are not.
I take a few moments to revise the night, to see myself doing it differently. What if I had simply danced with the Beloved? What if, when tapped on the shoulder, I had felt the joy of True Love fill my heart and danced to that eternal, omnipotent, and stunning beat? I see my arms as great wings taking flight above any self doubt and my legs too levitating into the sky. I float, flip, and twirl in the Essence, as though I were completely weightless, formless even, without a care to hold me down. That is the dance I can do in any and every moment when I surrender and disappear into the bliss of Now.
When I know the love is within, I can dance to its tune and leave all else to the Beloved.
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Love! Love! Love!
Love ~ Gratitude!
Beautiful Lesley! The glorious shift from “self-consciousness” to “consciousness of Self!”
Perfect…..in all the hokie pokie….”turn yourself around!”!!
Love
D
Lesley,
Your abi,it’s to share your spiritual vulnerabilities with such eloquence and curiosity is so refreshing.
Love you,
Kelley
Ahhh – yes. I took flight with the Beloved in reading this!
Inexpressibly grateful for all your writings, Lesley.
Thank you, Neeka, and everyone for your kind comments. When we’re with the Beloved, we really can appreciate all experience, knowing all is Love and is moving us closer to our true self. <3
Thanks Leslie for this lovely honest sharing of self & Self, the vulnerability of the mind and ego, the elevation of ascending with the Beloved in the Dance, flapping our wounded wings and being lifted on the Divine Melody.
Beautiful reminder! Thank you so much, Leslie!
How often I have felt exactly what you have described here. I am tapped and feel an obligation to respond, and usually in the way expected of me. It was happening so much in my former religion, that eventually I felt “tapped out” and I simply left their circle. I stepped off the shore and into the ocean, but onto the most comfortable and spacious life raft imaginable. Your story here is so inspiring, so vulnerable, and with such poise that I cannot imagine you being anything but a lovely dancer. Thank you for sharing it with your friends.
A circle dance, then a dalmatian. Really, Lesley, you never cease to amaze me.
I love this too Lesley and so relate to your self conscious vulnerability. It’s so true that by reflecting on our weaknesses whilst holding the hand of the Beloved, dwelling on what makes us uncomfortable through his lens of love, we are shown our true selves, or for me glimpses of. Dance on shining soul, dance on!
Thank you for this and for all of the other consistent reminders that you so lovingly offer to practice the presence of the Master and let Him lead the way. I am inspired each time you share the details of a turnaround, and I love the way you present a blueprint that makes it seem within my reach.