Dance
March 24, 2008
To watch us dance is to hear our heart
speak. Hopi Saying
The earth braces itself for the feet of a
lover of God about to dance.
Hafiz
I am a dancer. I believe that we learn by
practice. Whether it means to learn to dance
by practicing dancing or to learn to live by
practicing living, the principles are the
same. . .One becomes in some area an athlete
of God. Martha Graham
Gillian Lynne is a choreographer. As a child
in the 1930s, teachers considered Gillian
learning disabled. You know, one of those
students who don't pay attention, or focus,
and cannot sit still. Since ADHD was not yet
invented, she was labeled "difficult." And
her parents were deeply troubled.
A school counselor arranged a meeting with Gillian and her parents to discuss the options. Through the entire meeting, Gillian sat on her hands, stoic, doing her best to "act natural and well behaved." At the end, the counselor asked to see Gillian's parents privately, outside the office. Before he left the room, he turned on his radio. Music filled the office. Outside the office door, the counselor asked Gillian's parents to look back inside at their daughter. No longer seated, Gillian now moved about the room with the music-freely, untroubled and blissful.
"You see," the counselor told the parents, "your daughter isn't sick. She's a dancer."
This story could have gone another way. Gillian could have been labeled, and medicated. Problem solved.
Instead, she was given the freedom to live from the inside out. The result for Gillian? A lifetime of dance, first with the Royal Ballet, and later, a wealth of extraordinary choreography, including CATS and Phantom of the Opera.
In our hearts, we are all dancers. It is that part of us that responds to the music of abundant life, freely and unrestrained. But somewhere along the way, we lose that. And we choose to live guarded and closed. Fear labels and dismisses and restricts.
To dance is to live with arms open. Without fear. Like four-year-olds, who live fearless. Just ask them; Can you sing? If we don't know the words, we'll make 'em up. Can you play music? A cardboard box and a stick will do. Can you dance? Watch this! Ask an adult; Can you sing? Only in the shower, and then off-key. Can you play music? That was years ago. Can you dance? Not without people laughing.
I take two lessons from Gillian's story. One: the voice of GRACE tells us that we are more than our labels.
It's not that we "choose" to dance, so much as we "choose" to give up being afraid.
We give up being afraid by responding to the love of the Beloved.
We hear and taste and touch this love of God in stillness.
Our dance is the interplay with that voice. Because now, our hearts are alive.
In fear, Robert Capon reminds us, "we live life like ill-taught piano students. So inculcated with the flub that gets us in dutch, we don't hear the music, we only play the right notes."
The second observation: I don't hear this voice of Grace (or invitation to Dance) when my life is filled with noise and hurry, when I'm out of breath and out of time, incessantly worried about public opinion.
Life is short,
Break the rules,
Forgive quickly,
Kiss slowly,
Love truly,
Laugh uncontrollably,
And never regret anything that made you Smile.
Life may not be the party we hoped for,
but while we're here we should
Dance....
For you shall go out in joy; and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Isaiah 55:12
A school counselor arranged a meeting with Gillian and her parents to discuss the options. Through the entire meeting, Gillian sat on her hands, stoic, doing her best to "act natural and well behaved." At the end, the counselor asked to see Gillian's parents privately, outside the office. Before he left the room, he turned on his radio. Music filled the office. Outside the office door, the counselor asked Gillian's parents to look back inside at their daughter. No longer seated, Gillian now moved about the room with the music-freely, untroubled and blissful.
"You see," the counselor told the parents, "your daughter isn't sick. She's a dancer."
This story could have gone another way. Gillian could have been labeled, and medicated. Problem solved.
Instead, she was given the freedom to live from the inside out. The result for Gillian? A lifetime of dance, first with the Royal Ballet, and later, a wealth of extraordinary choreography, including CATS and Phantom of the Opera.
In our hearts, we are all dancers. It is that part of us that responds to the music of abundant life, freely and unrestrained. But somewhere along the way, we lose that. And we choose to live guarded and closed. Fear labels and dismisses and restricts.
To dance is to live with arms open. Without fear. Like four-year-olds, who live fearless. Just ask them; Can you sing? If we don't know the words, we'll make 'em up. Can you play music? A cardboard box and a stick will do. Can you dance? Watch this! Ask an adult; Can you sing? Only in the shower, and then off-key. Can you play music? That was years ago. Can you dance? Not without people laughing.
I take two lessons from Gillian's story. One: the voice of GRACE tells us that we are more than our labels.
It's not that we "choose" to dance, so much as we "choose" to give up being afraid.
We give up being afraid by responding to the love of the Beloved.
We hear and taste and touch this love of God in stillness.
Our dance is the interplay with that voice. Because now, our hearts are alive.
In fear, Robert Capon reminds us, "we live life like ill-taught piano students. So inculcated with the flub that gets us in dutch, we don't hear the music, we only play the right notes."
The second observation: I don't hear this voice of Grace (or invitation to Dance) when my life is filled with noise and hurry, when I'm out of breath and out of time, incessantly worried about public opinion.
Life is short,
Break the rules,
Forgive quickly,
Kiss slowly,
Love truly,
Laugh uncontrollably,
And never regret anything that made you Smile.
Life may not be the party we hoped for,
but while we're here we should
Dance....
For you shall go out in joy; and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Isaiah 55:12
Poems / Prayers
Dance in Your Blood
Dance, when you're broken open.
Dance, if you've torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of the fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance, when you're perfectly free.
Rumi
Help us, O God, to feed not only
Upon bread that nourishes bone and sinew
But upon the radiance of night-blooming cereus,
And the purity of a selfless act, for we are a people
Who must feed on bread, beauty, and compassion.
Bless our home, our Father,
That we cherish the bread before there be none,
Discover each other for what we are. . .
While we have time. Amen.
(Richard Wong)
If you are not dancing, if you are not leaping out of your seats with joy for who God is and what God is doing in this world, we've got to find where the Ark is and begin to seek it out. . .get the Ark, treat it with respect and reverence, wait for the power of God, and watch where it takes us. It counts, because this power of God, this creative force is able to bring life out of death. It is able to bring hope out of despair. The deepest, darkest moments of your life cannot overwhelm this creative power of God. The moment of crucifixion of Jesus Christ cannot be overwhelmed by darkness because resurrection is always on the horizon. The hope that comes when this God is let loose in our lives makes it worth the search for the Ark. Rev. Samuel G. Alexander
Peace,
Terry Hershey
