Dance, My Soul

      Silence is a phenomenon that does not truly exist.  When we are alone, quiet, at rest, we can feel that void as a heavy cloud weighing and pressing down on us.  But the reality is that we are never alone and the earth is never silent.  When the chaos of the day turns into a cool night, and the chatter of the humans we share this planet with subsides, that is when the earth is able to reach out and beckon our ears to the place where the music truly lingers.  The song of the wind calls us to hearken as the leaves and branches of the trees it blows invite us to come sit and listen for a while.  In the starlight the cicadas and crickets charm us into a dance of sacred steps that can only be known to the dancer who reaches deep within to remember the soul movement that was understood exclusively by those who once resided among awareness.  There is an emotional untethering, a mental and even physical release that gushes from deep in our hearts when we close our eyes and recall that ancient music that lives within us all.  It is a song of primordial consciousness, a freedom that exists only when we forget our mortal bodies and weave a tale too complex to be spoken with language.  It is a legend too powerful to be seen with human eyes and too essential to be understood by physical senses.  The song that we feel inside of our hearts, the dance that we release from the bottom of our souls, is a force that can't be written, spoken, or rationalized.  There is a reason that music makes a party, that love is expressed lyrically, worship is sung into the heavens, that we meditate and journey to the rhythm of the drum.  Ideas much too deep and important to be told plainly are crooned and strummed into earthly existence, flowing from our inner worlds of spiritual depths.  Emotions are expressed in a way that only song can convey and only dance can appease.  Music is a therapy, an urge, a desperate longing, a sacred calling, a means of transformation for the hybrid divine.  The oldest instrument known to man is the flute.  Made from bird bones and mammoth ivory, the flute was played at night while tribes sang and danced round a fire of heat and passion.  Alone, or surrounded by like-hearted kindred, let the music connect you with the earth and all that is in realms that cannot be seen.  The drum is the intoxicating heartbeat and our voices rise to mingle with the neural pathways of the heavens.  As we let our limbs twist and wind through the celestial ether, blood pounding in time with natures pulse, our feet drumming the earth and sending shoots of roots into the under-realms of space, we can clearly see why we smile.  Our hearts quicken and our ears prick up to the sound of a tune we can grasp onto and our faces smile when we realize that the song in you is the song in me, because it is the joy of the earth and the secrets of God.
What is your soul dancing to?

"Dance Of The Moonlight..." painted by bohomaz13

Music by Sarah Howle & Wyatt Garey

"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent."

- Victor Hugo

Shall We Dance?

       I have two children, both boys, and they bless me every day.  They are my world, my existence, my love place.  After the birth of my second son I found that quite a few people were asking me if I was going to have another.  "I just had this one," I would think, but I found myself answering that maybe we would try for a girl.  I did want a little girl, but as I conversed with my husband about conceiving another child, he got my mind to wondering.  He spoke very logically about money and time and sleep, and I was disappointed.  But why was I sad about not having another child?  I was already not sleeping at night and we were both stretched beyond the limit to give them the attention and support that they desired.  Then I started to feel guilty about my longing for another child.  It really wasn't fair to the baby that I just had to immediately have another one, because then he wouldn't ever have the one-on-one with mommy time that I desperately wanted to lavish upon him.  So WHY did I feel the need to have a little girl?  Letting myself sit in that question for a while, I allowed the answers to float around in my brain until I could reach up and grab the true one.  Because I wanted a miniature me, because I wanted to see what I would look like as a little girl, because I wanted to raise a little girl to breathe fire, because I wanted to instill the strength and confidence into a little person that I never had as a child, because I wanted to protect a little girl...because I wanted to protect MY little girl.  That was it!  I had my innocence snatched away at such a young age that I was never able to truly BE a little girl.  Well, that was indeed a purely selfish reason to have another child.  So now what?  I had to find my inner child.  I had to remember who I was before bad things happened in my life.  I had to remember what it was like to feel free.  But I needed a little help remembering.  Have you ever just sat and watched your children?  Like, REALLY watched?  Aren't they little gods?  The young ones, the ones who haven't been damaged by other people yet.  The ones who are still just themselves.  They are perfect, beautiful, and pure.  They wake up when they're ready to wake up, and sleep when they're ready to sleep, and eat when they're ready to eat.  They cry when their little feelings are hurt, they squeal with excitement at the smallest of delights, and they scream in anguish when they are frightened.  They wallow on the floor and eat dirt and splash in the mud.  They strip down naked and run around laughing at the pleasure that they feel as the wind whips around their bare butts.  They laugh without restraint and dance to music that isn't there.  They don't care about rules or manners, or anything that we think they should care about.  They care about how they feel and they long to explore the world around them.  Everything is new and magical to them.  Magic!  That's definitely it.  Children believe in things that we are taught can't exist, and they're happy with that.  Children don't know why the rain falls, nor do they care.  They only want to run and play in the puddles that collect in the street.  They don't care about the mess they're making, they care about the fun that they're having along the way.  As adults it isn't always feasible to strip down and roll in the dirt, but there comes a time when we have to remember who we were.  Only then can we heal from trauma and pain that happened along the way to adulthood.  We have to go back, back to a time when we were innocent and free and unconfined.  We have to learn not to care about other people's opinions of us once more.  We have to remember how to believe in magic and how to dance in the rain when the only music playing is in our hearts.
What's your child dancing to?