The world is a marvelous, painful, beautiful, torturous, muddled up place in which we all live. It is dichotomy – made manifest. We, are dichotomy made manifest; evidenced by our free will. At every given moment in our life we conclude one way or the other. Our conclusions, I feel, create our future. We lay the bricks of our future foundation by the conclusions of our past.
But then, amidst it all, we find ourselves acting in ways that stand out; ways that are not our norm. There are times when we call upon our cellular memory. When we detach from what is, and submerge ourself in a knowing that is not yet owned by our mind.
It is my belief that there is a reason why our deepest self, our soul, held on to certain proclivities; why certain instincts were retained while we moved throughout these many lifetimes. I know that within me is a writer that far exceeds the one held within my thinking mind. I know this because I can tell the difference between the two when writing. With that said, please know that this blog is written with energy held throughout the ages. That isn’t to say that it has more value. It may, however, hold more wisdom than my mind could ever hope to own.
But tonight I did not write. I did not ponder the quandaries of life. No. Tonight, like a gypsy standing tall under a full white moon – I danced. I felt the music as it moved through my body. Without thought, without restriction, I allowed my body to express itself through movement, not words. Indeed, the soul of a gypsy danced free. My mind was silent. My soul took center stage. It was the form of meditation I most enjoy.
I can’t say with any certainty if I was a gypsy in a past life. I have no evidence that would appear concrete to the thinking mind. And yet, like my writing, once the soul is allowed to express itself, the evidence becomes clear to me. At one time, I danced bare footed upon the open land. And as I moved, the sheer colorful fabric adorning my body moved with me. The wind, moved with me. As did the stars, and the moon held high up in the sky.
The soul needs no evidence. And when it comes to the grandest, most meaningful things in life, neither should we. But then again, I am my soul. This soul chose the life of a gypsy just as it chose the life of a remote writer. Without the need for evidence, it seems clear that this soul that is me, is moving through time with the mission of self-expression.
Allow yourself a moment to express what rests below the sub layers of your being. Behind the thoughts of the mind is hidden the essence of you; the you that has come and gone; the you that has seen it all before. And out of that, your soul gleaned what it needed to glean. Find that spot. Find that part of yourself. Its you. And it is beautiful.
I will now go watch the sun set behind the trees. Knowing all the while that as is does, it only casts the illusion of closure. The sun never rests. Neither does my soul. And neither does my need to write and dance. Noapte bună prietenii mei dragi. Good night my beloved friends