This piece was written from within an experience rather than about it. It explores what happens at the edge between seeing and being seen, individuality and surrender. You are invited to read not for meaning alone, but for resonance.
After deciding “Danced life with grace and beauty” would be placed on my gravestone,
I put on the mask and went dancing —
into the circle of friends participating in the ceremony.
I worked on the mask for a month,
intending to place on it all the webs —
the patterns I am wrapped in and act out,
adorning it with shiny rhinestones
so others could see my polished look,
my outside projection.
The wild beat of the drum,
the heart pounding,
feet moving faster and faster,
sweat and tears —
until readiness arrived:
the moment to take the next step,
to accept vulnerability
and take the mask off —
to be me without pretending.
Then I went to find my place in the wilderness
and pray for a vision.
Sacred bundle over my shoulder —
the pipe, the smudge, the blanket.
I walked for an hour or so,
until sunlight through the branches
began to dim.
It was time to choose the place
for my night vigil.
The thicket parted into a small clearing —
a slope with a ridge and trees below.
A perfect place to cast my circle of cornmeal,
to claim a safe space for the night.
First, I sat on the ridge
and watched the light fade slowly.
Through the lives of the trees below,
then all around me —
filaments, rays, vibrating rainbow energy
running toward me,
gently, lovingly —
as if the universe were seeing me,
touching me.
I could move back and forth
between seeing the world —
leaves, woods, sky —
the ordinary way,
and the world seeing me —
being open to be seen.
It took only a slight shift:
an invitation,
a softening,
and softening some more.
There are times
when I soften
and feel one with the whole universe.
I don’t see the filaments anymore —
but I remember.
Why am I sharing this?
Perhaps you are ready
to notice light particles and waves —
how deeply they penetrate us,
how awareness rises between us.
The edges where we meet.
The merging fields of desire and longing —
fields of relating.
The places where we meet,
and the places where we defend our individuality,
afraid to surrender.
Places that require vulnerability.
The thinning, softening, rarefying
of cellular membranes.
The taking off of masks.
The dissolving of walls
of boxes we live in —
to flow like water
along the path of least resistance.
To water new seeds.
To become new human
and co-create a new world.
A land once promised.
The Earth that already supports us beneath our feet.
The matter through which
Spirit is expressed.
