You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet. --FRANZ KAFKA
Saturday, June 25, 2005
THE MOST SUBLIME ACTIVITY ON EARTH
Photograph by Anna Marie Panlilio "Homesliced" via flickr
CATEGORY: Various forms of bliss
Just posted my poem "Tango Junkie" on my other blog, and it made me feel kind of nostalgic for an activity I don't do as much as I used to. When I was about twelve, the first thing I did when I woke up was turn on my tinny sounding stereo, and leap out of bed. My mother says I never simply walked out of my room. I danced out. And she could tell my mood by the energy of the dance.
I danced as I moved around the house thinking about boys. I danced as I pondered the poems I wanted to write, and later, when responsibility crashed down on me (or tried to) I danced as I cleaned the house or held a colicky baby in the middle of the night. (Babies have a natural affinity for dance.)
I'm quite sure that if I live to be 100 as I hope to (there being so many things on this wonderful earth that I've yet to do) I'll be dancing. Dancing with my walker. Dancing in a wheelchair. Moving my baby finger to the music if that's the only thing I've got left to shake.
Tomorrow's Sunday, and whether you worship within the walls of a church, mosque or temple, or whether you just worship in a field or on the beach or in your own little room, whether you dance like a sufi, or kneel on your prayer mat, or sing in a choir,I hope you worship. For one thing, worship reminds us of our place in the world. It informs us of both our incredible importance and our absolute lack of it. And done right, worshipping something greater than ourselves--whatever that may be-- just feels good.
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There is in the post, and the poem, the idea of speaking only with the body. You capture the purity of physical expression and how it is uncorrupted by language. Yet there is also present the yearning for language to be:
one moment of flight and motion
that can make the world grow
It's interesting how those two impulses push and pull each other.
Thank you for your post, and your poem!
This is really nice, glad you are back.
and as always, R.
Loved the picture.
And regardless of my own cynicism about the world, I think that it's people like you, with faith, who move it...
Hope you never stop dancing :)
you are a marvelous garden.
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^^ nice blog!! ^@^
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