Dancing

I have danced at the fires of Rumi

I have made love in tents the colour of gold on the periphery of the great pyramids

I have celebrated in the ancient temples of Tantra

I have sacrificed to the old gods

And now….

Upon my Path where dancing dancers

I find this Thing

I see it on the horizon in the distance

It draws me closer ... a seduction … calling … promising

I beckon the Beloved, “ Come, let’s explore this Thing. It sings. Oh, it promises juice and joy and love and celebration. Bliss, it oaths, are just around its corners. Come Beloved!”

We draw closer

The Beloved, my Self and the Thing closer promising seducing

Bliss threatening in every breath

Then …

The Thing speaks of Payment

You can only love one other; you must compromise and negotiate a position of meeting; you will re-negotiate this often; the best way to hold the love is by grabbing fiercely and refusing any joy unless it is with each other; you must fight or even destroy anyone who threatens this position; you must strive to better your position; you must defend your position and separate from others so as not to allow for invasion; your level of fear and holding demonstrates devotion and honour; this devotion and honour demonstrates love; the depth that you are willing to demonstrate will lead you to the reward of true happiness

The Beloved and my Self believe the promises of the Thing

The Thing becomes our interaction. We strive to meet the Payments. After each Payment is met some new Payment is demanded.

We forget our dancing that was before the Thing.

We know only the Thing. Have we met the payments? Are we any closer to the final promise?

We put all our work and energy and fight into the Thing

A rage begins, hating begins .. for we are no closer to the final promise and yet there is so much work

It must be the fault of the other … of the Beloved

The Beloved, who I can no longer see

Only the Thing remains – It has become All

The Beloved gone

The dancing gone

The Thing remains

The yearning remains

The Beloved no more

The Thing still insisting … perhaps if I work harder … perhaps if I find another … a better partner who is more able to meet Payments

Many Things now appear on my Path

They have some different shapes and sounds and colours and demand of Payments

Still, never does any one Thing deliver the final promise

The Beloved is gone

A great Suffering fills me

I am weary of Things and I avoid them

I am alone and a deep pain embraces the edges of my resentful walking

I have thoughts of leaving the Path

Perhaps I can sell copiers and have holidays at Club Med

Perhaps the dancing was a dream and only my failure is real

Still the fierce yearning holds me to the Path

At times I hear a faint singing

The song of the Beloved…

I know I will not leave the Path

Then one day, deep inside the weariness, I see him in the distance

He is waving at me

He is pointing the way to me

The pointing leads to the edge of a cliff

I must jump

His eyes insist

Only my death lies at the end of this leap

I look back from where I came

There is nothing

I look into the eyes of the Beloved

I jump

And fall into love




After many sleeps, he explains

The Thing became so big that we both lost ourselves in it and no longer could see the other

I learnt the way of the Thing and realised there was no way over under or around

I must go through

This was the only way and the shortest way

I met much that I wished to turn away from

I knew if I turned back I would never find the way out of lost

In this moment I found the choice less choice

I met rage, pain, jealousy, loneliness, grabbing, running, refusing to move, running in all the wrong directions, seeing the way and not allowing myself to see.

I continued through

Darkness covered the way

Terror a signpost to where I must go next

Until I too met the cliff

And jumped



I waited for you

Watched you

Guided you in dreams and signs I was able to leave on your trail

But only you could find your way through the Thing

For the trick of the Thing, if I return into it, I will be lost again and be of no use to you at all



Does it have a name, the Thing?

Yes … Relationship



We walked away

We did not look back

For dancing dancers

Always