Experiencer

For over thirty years, dance has been my refuge. Twice a week, for several hours at a stretch, I give myself the gift of dropping language and fully inhabiting my body, senses, and imagination. Dance is my church, my community, my salvation, my joy, my exercise, my prayer, my meditation.

In the last few years, especially since going down the rabbit hole, I’ve created a meditation to help myself get centered, to prepare to dance with the unseen.

Somehow, over these years, I’ve formed a system based on the vowels to guide my spiritual preparation for dance. It’s simple and childlike, which is why I hope to turn it into a children’s book someday. The vowels come in order, almost by magic.

A: Ancestors, root

I always begin by lying on the floor, feeling gravity, the beloved ground that holds me. I sink in and feel the pull of invisible forces grounding me into the earth. There is a quiet delight in twisting and exhaling vertically, a slow awakening to presence.

I begin with the ancestors. Always. I dance for them. I think of my maternal line and all the women in my lineage who were not able to dance, who were not free. I dance for them. I think of those who loved to dance but are no longer here. I dance for them. I thank them for my life, my body, this chance to drop in and be embodied, to feel the joy of being human. I dance for the past and for the future. I dance for the future ancestors. I dance for us all.

E- Elemental, sacral

Once I am filled by the ancestors, I turn toward the living world that holds me. I honor the elementals, the shimmering, breathing presence of everything alive. I feel the dew on my skin, the stretch of vines reaching for light, the hush of moss beneath my palms. I listen for the hum of insects, the wingbeat of an unseen bird, the long exhale of wind through the trees.

I invite the creatures of this planet to dance with me: jaguar, fern, hawk, serpent, cloud. I let them show me how to move. My spine becomes the wave of the snake, my breath the wind through leaves, my gaze the still focus of a predator watching the horizon.

Soon I am on all fours, close to the ground, heart pressed to the soil. I move with the tide of my own breath, muscles rippling, bones remembering their animal origins. The boundary between skin and world begins to dissolve. I am rain, root, heartbeat, and thunder. The Earth moves through me, and I through her.

I: Imaginal, solar plexus

When the trees turn into dragons, I welcome the imaginal. The in-between world where matter and spirit mingle. I stand rooted, feet pressed into the soil, arms lifted toward the unseen. My body becomes a bridge between the visible and the invisible.

Here I meet the interdimensional, the ineffable, the invisible, the incandescent, the iridescent, the immaterial. The air around me thickens with presence. I sense movement at the edges of perception, a shimmer, a breath, a song that has no words.

I call upon the unseen forces who dance with us: the fairies, the angels, the demons, the djinn, the zephyrs, the gods and goddesses, the imaginary friends, the ones who walk between worlds and whisper through the liminal spaces. The star people. My guardians.

I let them move through me and with me. I feel their currents in my spine, their laughter in my breath, their wild grace in the turn of my hips. I let them know I am dancing for them and with them. I honor them all, asking that their mystery keep me humble, their beauty keep me in awe, and their presence keep me inspired.

O: The Circle, Omniscience, Heart

With my ancestors, the elementals, and the animals all around me, I drop into the O: the bubble of divine protection, the womb, the home. Here I feel the deep sense of connection, of being held, included, and part of something much greater than myself.

I embody the shape of the O in my whirling and spiraling, moving with the roundness of planets, moons, and stars in orbit. All things circle. All things return.

I am suspended in a glimmering soap bubble of magic, reflecting light, cradled in safety and warmth. I rest within the great circle of community, both seen and unseen.

In this space of omnipresence and omnipotence, I know I am held, loved, cherished, and safe.
I am whole.
Home.

U: Universal Love, Throat

When I arrive at U, I am swooshing, overflowing with the energies already created. Now I am ready to share. Love. What we were made for. What we are designed to express. The only thing that survives death. The most important truth in the world.

Love moves through space and time, constant and unbroken. We are created by love, to love, to receive love. I pray that my body can be a container for it, a fountain of joy flowing through all ages and all beings.

Here I touch the vibration of unity, the pulse that holds the universe together. The simplicity humbles me: in the end, only love matters. How well we love others, and how tenderly we love ourselves.

Y: And Sometimes Why

And sometimes why. Wonder. Curiosity. Staying open, flexible, exploring. The Y sounds like E or I, but in its own way it is the yes, the you, the yay.

With this sound I swim through my sea of dancing community, taking in their energy, their motion, their presence. Now that I am grounded in my own body, I am ready to play with others, to move with them, to meet them in joy and curiosity.

Closing

I take a deep breath and feel everything I have called into being: my ancestors, the elementals, the unseen, the circle, the love, and the wonder of curiosity. All of it flows through me, in my bones, my breath, my heartbeat.

I am rooted. I am open. I am alive. I am connected to this vast, luminous web of life.

I bow to the mysteries I have danced with. I bow to myself. I bow to all that is seen and unseen.

I carry this energy with me into the world. I move with gratitude, with joy, with love. I am always dancing. I am always alive. I am always part of the whole.