The world and time are the dance of the Lord in emptiness. The silence of the spheres is the music of a wedding feast. The more we persist in misunderstanding the phenomena of life, the more we analyze them out into strange finalities and complex purposes of our own, the more we involve ourselves in sadness, absurdity, and despair.
But it does not matter much, because no despair of ours can alter the reality of things, or stain the joy of the cosmic dance which is always there. Indeed we are in the midst of it, and it is in the midst of us, for it beats in our very blood, whether we want it to or not.
Yet the fact remains that we are invited to forget ourselves on purpose, cast our awful solemnity to the winds and join in the general dance.
-Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation
O movement of life,
your waters are holy.
Bless us in these contemplations
as we enter your tributaries, rivers, and seas,
preparing to immerse every cell in grace and truth.
Teach us again how to begin the dance,
moving from moment to moment
and day to day.-Cynthia Winton-Henry, Dance–The Sacred Art: The Joy of Movement as Spiritual Practice (The Art of Spiritual Living)
A couple of weeks ago I was at a BodySoul Writing Workshop (based on the work of Jungian analyst Marion Woodman) and delighted in having the time and space to enter into my own process. Lately I have been hearing the call of the dance quite strongly. My body is asking for even deeper attention, discipleship even, a radical listening to what wisdom she has to offer me beyond anything I have ever experienced before. As with most things in my life, I am responding to the call and not knowing where it will take me. I just know that it means deepening my practice of yoga, swimming, and walking and allowing the insights to unfold. In the workshop we created a collage as a part of our experience (you can click on it to enlarge). I began with absolutely no idea what would emerge, but the power of this figure has captivated me in the days that follow her creation. I am listening to this vibrant energy which spilled forth and making space for setting her free.
What shifts in your imagination when you consider “world and time” and “moment to moment” as one unending dance?
How might you surrender into this invitation more freely? How might you learn to dance again?