Monday, May 30, 2011

Unraveling



We Have Come to Be Danced
By Jewel Mathieson

We have come to be danced
Not the pretty dance
Not the pretty pretty, pick me, pick me dance
But the claw our way back into the belly
Of the sacred, sensual animal dance
The unhinged, unplugged, cat is out of its box dance
The holding the precious moment in the palms
Of our hands and feet dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the jiffy booby, shake your booty for him dance
But the wring the sadness from our skin dance
The blow the chip off our shoulder dance.
The slap the apology from our posture dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the monkey see, monkey do dance
One two dance like you
One two three, dance like me dance
But the grave robber, tomb stalker
Tearing scabs and scars open dance
The rub the rhythm raw against our soul dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the nice, invisible, self-conscious shuffle
But the matted hair flying, voodoo mama
Shaman shaking ancient bones dance
The strip us from our casings, return our wings
Sharpen our claws and tongues dance
The shed dead cells and slip into
The luminous skin of love dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the hold our breath and wallow in the shallow end of the floor dance
But the meeting of the trinity: the body, breath and beat dance
The shout hallelujah from the top of our thighs dance
The mother may I?
Yes you may take ten giant leaps dance
The olly olly oxen free free free dance
The everyone can come to our heaven dance.

We have come to be danced
Where the kingdoms collide In the cathedral of flesh
To burn back into the light To unravel, to play, to fly, to pray
To root in skin sanctuary
We have come to be danced! We have come.


I LOVE this poem. Love it with a passion, love it with the part of me that longs to be danced, the part of me that has known, in fleeting moments anyway, what it's like to be danced. Every word, every word of this poem hit me with pure resonance and knowing. Every word had me thirsting for the next, and the next, had me breathless in the way that we are breathless only when Sacred Truth punches us in the gut; had the heart pounding in anticipation and excitement, the feet practically tapping. This poem has me trembling, with longing, with desire; has me weeping with melancholy and missing; awakens some ancient I know it in my bones memory, of the deepest sorrow, the most radiant joy. This poem has me feeling more alive than I have felt in eons, maybe ever.

This poem is going up on my wall.

Today.

Today I start a new ecourse called Unraveling. I know... isn't it possible - likely even - that over the past couple of years I've unraveled enough??? But apparently not, because the minute this course was recommended to me, the minute I went on Susannah Conwway's website and read about her and her journey through grief and sorrow, read a little about the course, I couldn't wait for registration to open, couldn't wait to pay my 97 pounds, couldn't wait to get started. 

(And how cool is it that a poem with the word unravel arrives in my mailbox the day before I begin...?)

Today I get started. Today we get started, women from all corners of the globe, and those in between, in cyber community... together, with picture-taking and journal-writing we will unravel. I'm so excited. Though here's the one hiccup, for me anyway: we are asked not to share the course in our blogs. I completely understand the why and I will honor the request, but it will be different for me, to not share the journey here; where I pour my heart out, where I chronicle the ups and downs, the goods, the bads, the uglies, the progress, the stumbles, where I find balance, understanding, insight. I can post snippets here and there... and I probably will... I can talk about the impact the course is having on my life... and I probably will; I just won't be sharing all the particulars; and who knows, it might even be good for me... to practice a little self-containment...

How much unraveling is enough? Is there ever enough? Like fine silk thread from a large spool, one delicate strand and revolution at a time, the spool being this lifetime, the thread the journey, I hunger to unwind, to unravel until there's nothing left... nothing that stands in the way, past the pretty dance, beyond the self conscious shuffle, opened-hearted, unafraid, uninhibited, away from the shallow end of the dance floor into vast emptiness, into boundarie-less-ness; like a ragdoll, a marionette, a tree swaying in the wind, a wave churned by the ocean, a soul longing to move and be moved, I have come, I know I have, I feel it... haven't we all in fact come... to be danced.

10 comments:

  1. the poem strikes a nerve with me too. it's pretty damn powerful. I took the Unraveling e-course a couple of years ago and it was a blockbuster for me. hope it is for you too. have a great weekend Debby. I truly enjoyed this post.

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  2. Hello Debby, I am Lydia from your Unravelling class. It has taken me a while to get here, but I've finally made it and am glad that I did. I have never read this particular poem before and am glad that you shared it. I can see a group of like-minded women gathered together in a setting that says "peace be with you, let it be," with this poem being the centerpiece of the gathering. You are right, we have come together to be danced. BLessings, lydia

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  3. Hi Debby. Thanx for sharing!! This E-course looks really interesting and really me :-) I can't wait to subscribe myself for one of the next editions. Looking forward to your Unravelling-experiences. Warm greetz, cococita

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  4. Hi Debby! Thanks so much for stopping by my blog today. Yes, I am absolutely loving unravelling and I can't believe it is just the first week!

    I read your bio description and I can definitely relate to where you are in life right now. When I signed up for Unravelling I thought that I was going to the lone "middle aged" participant, but I am thrilled to know that there are many others. Somehow there is comfort in knowing that I am not alone.

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  5. The taste of blood in the mouth: instead of invoking fear and loathing, there's the anything goes, anything is possible presence of life.

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  6. Thank you all so much for stopping by.

    Miss Becky - so glad you're back! And wow, you've Unraveled. I'd love to chat with you about it sometime... thanks again for reading and commenting.

    Cococita - so great to hear from you again! I'm missing Raining Umbrellas, how about you?

    Lydia and Molly - so happy to be Unraveling with you. Thanks so much for checking out my blog and taking the time to comment. What a journey...

    Jonnyallover - I always appreciate your words. I hope you are well... it's been a while.

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  7. This looks brilliant, Debby! Can't wait to see what you come up with :)
    x

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  8. Hi Debby:

    I'm unraveling with you too. I'm here now. I'll be hanging out and digging around for a while. First impressions are so important in the blogosphere. Yours is beautiful and inviting. I love the way you weave word and pictures.

    Gayle (HelloIdris)

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  9. Thank you so much, LMJ and Gayle. I so appreciate your wonderful words :)) and so appreciate you reading and taking time to comment.

    I'm glad to be Unraveling with you, Gayle, and I've enjoyed all your comments on the discussion threads.

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  10. -Always enlivening and heartfelt reading your posts, Miss Debbie. -J.

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I love that you've stopped by... thanks so much for taking the time to comment. I'll make every effort to visit your blog as soon as I can. Enjoy your day.