Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The Holy Dance of Holy Week
I am feeling rather quiet this week. Contemplative. Which seems just about right since it's Holy Week on the Christian calendar and Passover on the Jewish calendar.
This year, for me, there is an added layer of confusion to the contemplative.
I've written about this a bit before, and at the end of that piece, I say that lent is about to start and what a great time to think all of this through, and yet...
I'm more confused now than ever. I've discussed some of this with some really helpful people and come to some understanding but no conclusions. And this Chick loves her conclusions. She likes things Neat and Tidy. She likes things to be Decided. She is uncomfortable with too much gray in her life.
Here is what she does understand:
She feels split in two. There is the part of her that is totally smitten with her new life in Dance. This part of her is In Love. Completely moonstruck. Then there is this other part of her that worries that she is Missing Something by focusing. This part permeates much of her life -- from radio channel surfing to wanting whatever Marcy ordered for dinner if it is different from what the Chick ordered.
Okay...enough of the Third Person Royal speak.
I fear missing out. I have spent much of my life being a snorkeler, because I fear that in diving deep I will miss out on a pretty fish.
But diving deep, it turns out, is really my true nature. It feels Right and Good and it comes easier than I would have ever expected. (Marcy would tell you that she has known for-EVER that I am a very single minded animal, but I did not know this...)
So I am diving deep into the ocean of Dance, and that part of me that thought I loved snorkeling above all else is totally panicking.
I enter Holy Week and worry that I am not following the "Right" path. I worry that I am meant to be doing some other thing , that I am meant to be another Dorothy Day or...well, something else.
I know better than that.
I know many things, actually, and it took writing this to figure these things out. They are sprinkled all over a couple of important conversations, and here I will bring them together:
I know, for one, that Dancer is who I was born to be.
I know, for two, that finding who we were born to be is the primary path for most, if not all, of us. We are born to be something, life happens, and then we have to find our way back. It's our hero's journey.
I know, for three, that my idea of God is bigger than any container, though I love some certain containers and think they are representative of some Amazing human thinking and creativity.
But I know, for four, that my most amazing thinking and creating is going to happen in Dance.
I know that when I dance, I fulfill myself. When I dance, I turn my life into the Holy of Holies, into a Eucharist, into an Offering, into a Prayer.
Every time depression attempts to re-enter my life and defeat me like the demon it is, I dance and I rise from those ashes.
Every time I dance rather than succumb, I am saying "thank you."
When I dance, I co-create. When I dance, I am free. When I dance, I am Full of Grace.
If that is not the point of the Lenten journey, I don't know what is.
I'm sure -- I know for certain -- that I will feel confused again. But then, Easter comes every year, and before that, we are given plenty of time in the desert.
(If you're needing a little inspiration and an angel blessing, go read this at Abbey of the Arts.)