Hi Talulah .
Sufism, eh ?
On certain nights I attend Sufi dance.
The issue is though ..... I can't remember where it is or how I get there, or, for that matter, how I get home and back into my bed.
I talked to a friend about it. He told me I was dreaming. But if it is a dream why do I wake up so sore and tired? Sometimes I have blisters on my feet. But I feel I'm getting somewhere with it, I'm no longer getting as dizzy as I used to.
I seem to be developing more love and patience. I look good, people tell me.
I was practicing a very difficult part of the dance last month.
The teacher wore orange robes and the dance was very technical.
The month before, a different teacher, (who wore a red robe) taught a simpler stamping dance,
a somewhat angry yet purposeful dance.
There was a teacher before that a beautiful woman who wore a silver robe,
her dance was fluid and graceful. I didn't do very well.
I think I became a little infatuated with her, it was hard to concentrate.
I liked the blue robed teacher, his dance was joyous and expansive.
Good things happened to me after his lesson.In my mundane life, that is.
The green woman ! Well, that was easy! But I was a little confronted.
Well worth it, because after those lessons,
I met HER - In my mundane life.
The Golden One seemed to be saying he is what I will become.
I found him a little confusing.
I haven't been taught by the black teacher yet, I have had a glimpse of her style.
She is naked and black and sprays of stars and spiral galaxies cover her body.
But for now, it's all mixed up.
Sometimes I seem in one level of the dance,
and at other times in another level.
But lately there is no teacher.
No particular colored robe
and no difference between
the me here in this part of the dance
and that me there in that part of the dance
and another me over there in this part of the dance.
But at the same time I am out of the dance
and watching myself and the other dancers.
When that happens the dance becomes a huge astral entity,
a massive cone of light with layers and bands of colors and dancers and teachers.
Each colored circle, one on top of each other, diminishing in size;
a huge cone of dancing, multi-colored, banded light
floating and rotating amongst the blackness and stars of space.
At times while I am in the dance other dancers come into my space
and bounce and career off me spinning madly,
grinning, singing and dancing off to their destinies on other paths and trajectories.
In this part of the dance are wild eyed poets giggling on LSD,
dancers that are leaping and floating like fauns and satyrs
somersaulting leaving behind them trails of stars and sparkles.
Lately I have connected with a dance partner.
We dance exquisitely together,
she looks just like my partner in the mundane world
but lately she seems to have distracted attention.
Something seems to be bothering her, perhaps it is me?
It probably is. My dance is far from perfection.
When I look up through the translucence above,
I see exquisite dancers.
They are vibrant and ecstatic.
They fall and tumble but this helps them to rise
in their total control of the dance.
Even when they misstep.
I want to be like that.
And when I look down I see the dancers below me
still learning the dance.
I remember when I made those mistakes.
Some are awkward and squabbling like cranky penguins
others are concentrating and aspiring.
But sometimes, when the dance blends with my mundane life
and I seem stuck in the middle part of the dance.
A crazy insane part of the dance,
that must be passed through to finish the dance.
It does with me what it will
and I can only respond to its energy
and lose myself in the ecstasy of not being there.
While I am fully there ,
and here .
