Inspirations from Binah

Self-portrait inspired by music and dance

The music was loud, but not too loud. Actually, it was perfect; a carefully crafted mix of bass and treble guaranteed to get everyone moving – and I was moving. I couldn’t keep myself from moving. From the moment I walked in and heard the bass, my body instinctively carried me toward the dance floor. This was not an ordinary night, this was the reunification of a distant branch of my tribe, a cosmic entry point into the matrix of music and art. And I needed to plug-in for a recharge.

I came alone. I didn’t want to share this night with anyone, nor did I want any distractions. This was about MY transformation, my need to cleanse body and soul with sonic waves. Walking through the doors I could hear the beat and knew the night would be just what I craved. I scanned the landscape, looking for a place to call “home” for the next few hours. I don’t like to have anyone around me –dancing is a full-body experience that must be done in isolation. Arms and legs require room to move without fear of hitting anything or anyone.

I picked a spot up on a platform, away from the people that were bopping along to the opening DJ. He was good, warming-up the crowd. It felt like he was checking to see what range we would accept, taking us on a ride that started minimally, then plunged into fast, dark depths, only to skillfully bring us back to center without a climax. If this was the opener, I couldn’t wait for the main act.

I tested out the machinery, stretching my body like a cat preparing her space for a long nap. The perfect combination of shoes and clothes were chosen to ensure maximum range of motion, and look cute while doing it. Big boots ensured I towered over everyone, an imposing figure best to stay away from. In the midst of my run-through, I was knocked off balance by an enthusiastic girl. Annoyed at first, I quickly discovered that she had deliberately hit me, it was the only way should could get my attention — I dance with my eyes close — and she needed to say something very important. “You are amazing when you dance, thank you for sharing your energy!” Yes… tonight was going to be a good night.

After going through the pre-flight checklist, I wandered over to talk to the headliner. We have mutual friends, and it seems, shared interests. We stood outside swapping stories about music, the ingredients necessary for a perfect event and the need to include spirituality in every step. I have missed this. Technology keeps me connected to my tribe, but it is a poor substitute for physical closeness. I know that in any city I go to there will be a community there to greet me, but it is not the same as the constant flow of events and experiences I had become accustomed to. The ontz ontz has become a spiritual tool required for the evolution of my body, soul and spirit, I must remember to nurture this need.

The time had come. The headliner took his place; I took my place. The hand-off was beginning; I could feel the tempo start to change. He was going to slow it down, ease us into his set. I was grateful for the chance to sink into the feelings that were already beginning to rise. With the patience of a marathon runner preparing for the long distance, my body gently started to move. I had to pace myself accordingly if I was going to make it through the whole set, something I knew I needed to do.

I would love to talk you through the next two hours, but the truth is I can’t. At some point, my consciousness stepped aside as I freely relinquished control to the power within me. My body retained just enough coordination to ensure I didn’t topple into anyone. Other than that, I was lost in a sea of sound. I was exorcising ghosts, some that were hoping to stay even though they knew better. The whole point of the night was to say a final good-bye; a going away party for all the emotions outgrown, but stubbornly refusing to leave on their own. It could have been painful, but I was guided by a skillful master who took me through a journey of epic proportions.

My hair flung wildly and my body dripped with sweat… it felt wonderful. There was the occasional bump to reality by a drunk guy that didn’t quite understand the ecstatic ritual before him, but the maenatic look he received quickly shooed him away in fear and awe. Dionysus had been evoked and there was no stopping his worship.

At the end of the set, I was purified and renewed. I sat for a long time and gathered my senses, slowly feeling a new consciousness step into place. Through only music and dance, my body and mind traveled the rainbow bridge and reached a new destination soon to be explored. The Bacchanalia was complete.

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