Transformation

And we are put on this earth a little space that we might learn to bear the beams of love. William Blake

If all of our time were spent in being “beams of love” imagine what a different world we’d be living in. Perhaps that is the invitation, that in spite of the way things look on the outside we can regenerate ourselves in this moment from the inside to be pure love.

Of all the experiences that I enjoyed in early dance training, the feeling of love, not necessarily from teachers but from somewhere else held me in curiosity. The total abandonment given over to something much greater than myself thrust me into discovery and exploration that set the stage for my life. What is absolutely wonderful and divinely inspiring is that now, I tend to also use words to give a broader expression to those experiences.

Calling classical ballet a visceral and muscular enhancement regime—as well as psychospiritual—is no stretch of the imagination. No amount of pure mental work could produce what the artist inside of me was striving to cultivate or even had known when I first began dancing as a youngster. Dance became for me as much a spiritual journey as the rituals of the art form itself imbued with a deep reverence for the human form.

As with much spiritual work, I often find myself stepping aside for the in-depth creative and imaginal process to evolve, only to discover the real truth of the experience coming through much later than the initial rehearsal, concert, sacred event, or religious ceremony. Shapes, designs and meaning flow in at a sometimes alarming rate when I’m able to surrender to the feelings of the experience itself.

Is there a formula one might wonder? From my experience, it is more a state of being and probably almost everyone reading this post has experienced that state. When you find yourself totally engrossed in an activity or book in which hours pass without being aware of the passage of time, you are there—being present—in the now.

Even before understanding what it was that compelled me to return to the dance studio day after day or even really dreaming that dance somehow or other would be my life, the criterion of the inner journey is what compelled me to stay with the craft of embodiment. The results have never been instantaneous, they are often grueling and disappointing at best, with a vague impression of accomplishment and the inner Driver never giving up.

Observing students when they reach an apex in a combination or specific step and for them suddenly acquiring a new level of mental and physical strength, a level of understanding that far exceeds their previous ability, their touchstone I gaze on approvingly, and always want to shout, “Yes, yes!” Instead I patiently wait until the she recognizes her own awareness which unfolds weeks later in a casual conversation of noticing. That is when I fully affirm for the student what I observed earlier.

And then I reflect upon my own transition from a young dancer aspiring toward a professional dance career as muscles were reshaped into the classical ballet lines, the finely articulated and arched feet, the lithe, elongated arms, sleek torso, and increased flexibility, all the while being told, “ you don’t have the right body for classical ballet.” In spite of the hard work, being in the dance studio was magical and holy. I’m speaking here in terms of the spaciousness and reverence for the creative process.

Because the class work was so challenging and there were so many hurdles to overcome, I periodically had to drop deep into myself, transcending outer circumstances which surprisingly left me and the teachers dedicated to my training in awe. As rigorous as the six hour day rituals were—not surprisingly— they were also profoundly transformative. I was consumed by the art and striving for what seemed like unattainable levels of precision took total concentration, eventually remolding my vision of who I was, what I was doing, and what I was becoming.

For me, the soul’s journey is similar. Initially, we don’t know who we are but there are inklings of who we could be and if we believe that we were born in the image of God, or at the very least are taught that we come from a divine source of which we can never be separated, the soul moves along in relationship to our trust.

After a while of being constructed by external forces and imitating other images and idols, everything starts to disintegrate, the external scaffolding begins to crumble. It is there, those lapses into consciousness, when we are aligned with spirit that our true selves emerge. One example of this happening collectively is what audiences perceive when they watch a ballet and numerous dancers aligned in a work of exquisite of beauty, synchronicity abounding. More often than not, the gem is found in the mixture of physical and emotional pain and the unrelenting ecstasy of doing what one loves doing.

With the spiritual journey threaded into the dancer’s life of embodiment the necessary ingredients of patience, discipline, and self-love are required. And of course, there is no direct line which hurls an artist toward her destination. It’s a steady, slow process of different combinations of movements—forward, back and sideways. As Richard Rohr says:

If we can be present, we will experience what most of us mean by God…

In exploring my vocation in the latter stages of my life, I’ve had to reassess what’s really important and how to transmit to others my years of training and knowledge that were unique to me.

This transitional period has proven not to be a time of pulling back, if anything it is a time of upgrading and letting go of ideas and programming from others encouraging me to be something different than what I AM to Be. Above the din of consumerism, fast-paced technology, memes, gifs, and other distractions there is the inner process of attuning to spirit that has aided me in retaining some semblance of balance and harmony. In my earlier years, I never would have considered the inner work to be aligned with the outer product, they were separate activities. Like an icon writer, church organist, poet or potter; in my experience, dancing has always been a spiritual and artistic endeavor—which is indeed a journey of love.

All bets are off as to what will evolve in this Being in the future, but I do know that the journey continues along a path that the younger student of dance could not have known. The more mature dancer striving toward a heightened level of the senses and awareness retrieved from numerous guides and ancestors points to and is expressed succinctly in the words of Lao Tzu:

Mastering yourself is true power.

Where does God show up in your life and in your practice of Being? How are you beaming love?