Wednesday, January 5, 2011

...and my look shot upward;

When I entered the dance space last night I was embraced by a deep nurturing hug from Winky and the phrase, "you made it"! Yes I did. Showing up is half of it after all, isn't it?
We began the evening, with a bit of a closed eyed meditation and reflection on which part of our body was calling to us. I knew immediately that it was my sacrum, sore perhaps from beginning yoga class the night before, or calling to me, the sacrum- the sacred.
The word "sacrum", meaning "sacred" in Latin, lives on in English anatomy as the name for the large heavy bone at the base of the spine.
The Romans called the bone the "os sacrum," which literally meant the "holy bone" and the Greeks termed it the "hieron osteon," the same thing, the "holy bone".
We then proceeded, as always, to blindly choose our Mary Oliver line to dance. Mine was, "and my look shot upward" from the ever so poignant poem "Snow Geese". We then reflected on one word that called to us, mine being "upward". We took a moment to connect the focus of our body part and our word. It was clear to me that my dance of the evening and my dance in life is about looking upward and inward for spiritual guidance, to touch the sacred, however that shows up for me, in this time of searching for strength and wisdom to meet the challenges that life is presenting to me. I danced richly as I felt the drum beat of the music resonate deeply within my body.

"Snow Geese"~~ Mary Oliver~~
 
"Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last!
What a task
to ask
of anything, or anyone,
yet it is ours,
and not by the century or the year, but by the hours.
One fall day I heard
above me, and above the sting of the wind, a sound
I did not know, and my look shot upward; it was
a flock of snow geese, winging it
faster than the ones we usually see,
and, being the color of snow, catching the sun
so they were, in part at least, golden. I
held my breath
as we do
sometimes
to stop time
when something wonderful
has touched us
as with a match,
which is lit, and bright,
but does not hurt
in the common way,
but delightfully,
as if delight
were the most serious thing
you ever felt.
The geese
flew on,
I have never seen them again.
Maybe I will, someday, somewhere.
Maybe I won't.
It doesn't matter.
What matters
is that, when I saw them,
I saw them
as through the veil, secretly, joyfully, clearly"

1 comment:

Sherry Stewart said...

Lovely piece. I like it. Rather, I feel it.