Writing: Sacred Dance

Written with Sharon on a big open porch:

I hear some machine grinding away.  There’s blue sky with clouds, sun sometimes.

I’m alone too much.  It started with COVID, but it doesn’t seem to end.  I don’t know what to do about it.  I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to make friends.  I guess I feel scared a lot, that’s again from being alone too much, but it certainly makes it hard to do anything different.

I’m hoping that having a writing group will help. But now I’m worried about what I’m going to write about.  The story of folk dance — sacred circle dance — Neskaya.  Certainly creating Neskaya was the best thing I’ve ever done.  Actually it’s clear that “I” didn’t do it, I was the midwife who brought something through from the imaginal realm that was just waiting to be incarnated. 

The grinding noise has stopped.  I suspect it was a mower, cutting the grass in a different area than the one right in front of me.  It would be intolerably loud if it were right here.

The sun is out, a maple with some orange leaves already is blazing in the sunlight.  White cloud, blue sky — it’s almost too much.  The sun goes under, the colors fade. The freshness of the air is pleasant as is the slight breeze that brings it in.

Thinking about Neskaya and sacred dance lifts my spirits.  It’s been a very long time since I danced in a circle holding hands and I really miss it.  What dances would I like to do?  Kos, Turning Toward the Morning, Winds on the Tor, Miserlou.  Lore — another dance I’d like to do.  

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