Posted in Mysticism

Dances with Lord

Dancing and the lord have a long history together. From ancient times, dance and ecstasy have been linked to achieving the higher consciousness within a man. From Dionysius in Greek times to dhamals at the holy shrines, man has learnt to be with the Absolute through moments of ecstasy and trances initiated through steps of joy and dance.

Muslim history especially, contains some of the great legends that have writ their name in history by owning the dance. These saints through moments of raptures have learnt something of the higher self that words fail to explain.

But then one of the not mystic aptitude wonders how this comes to happen. In our society, and not religion, dancing is a form of mirth ascertained by only the most frivolous of nature. But this sentiment can be thwarted altogether. When a mystic swirls to the eyes of the one witnessing, he is not just moving the air around him, but his whole self is lifted and he finds himself in a rapture with the Great one.

In swirls of the frock, and the rhythmic beat of the soles, a mystic is able to diverge into a psychological world where one and one does not equal to two. But in fact, the mystic is able to remove the shackles of this world, break bondages with logic and soar his spirit to the heavens where everything is divine.

Once in the heavenly robes, the mystic wants to stay in that trance like ecstatic phase. Here, he alone enjoys the bounties of the Lord, and thus he wishes to stay. He sees pure bright golden light, all around him that engulfs him wholly till the time not a particle is left in the dark. Round and round in ecstasy he moves and here he knows the Lord as if he knows his own hand. Here he wishes to stay forever, and thus he wants to spend eternity in the light of the Lord- the Absolute.

But alas, the mould the mystic comes in, the body yet so perfect but with remnants of flaws, has a bigger flaw. It can not retain the light of the great one. The body does not help in keeping him away from the unreal for long, for it is only here that it feels at home, unlike the spark that came from the divine.

The body returns so does the gaze, once again focused, and the mystic is but left exhausted and flabbergasted. Thus he returns to the plane where everyone drinks from the same well. And to his anguish, he once again returns from home to the temporary maze, where everything speaks of facade that is but unreal.

There are remnants of so many saints, in all religions found under the sun, who being a mystic found God but in a dance. The rythym that moves a mystic is a sweet melody that transports him to the world beyond. The great saint who swirled in circles in wait of his master, achieved a greater name than his successor, by a twirl and a song that got him famous.

What man fails to understand is that there is knowledge besides the holy sacraments that can take a man beyond his imagination to a world unimagined. The Absolute but just waits in eagerness for his disciple to come make an encounter that would leave any man desperate for more of the elixir of life.

The rhythm which has been deemed as flawed, and vulgar, made into a gay frenzy for only the merry, is but a holy attribute if one beats their foot to be with the Lord. Then alone is he dancing with the Lord in the reality that is unreal for most of us. To dance in the Joy of the great one, everything living plays a part in. The trees, birds, insects, even the wind is attuned to the God who is great and they all rejoice in his being.


If all I can see is my own shadow, I'm in my own light.

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