art.
Art, in those days was generally seen as something separate from life. It was considered to be not as important as inventive technology and the accumulation of numbers called "money." Their culture had become totally fascinated with consuming resources, and Grandmother, Tha, and many others believed this to be an erroneous path. They set out to live more simply with an emphasis on spiritual attunement and artistic creativity. For a long time, it seemed to them that they had failed in this endeavor and that the Earth might not survive.
The Conversation
Reuban and Kate-Amee liked to encourage Grandmother's storytelling about that time because they, too, had dedicated themselves to a homesteading lifestyle and a spiritual quest. "I remember thinking," Reuban said, "that it had to be the End Times. The economy was failing in one country after another, yet we were tied to earning money while at the same time we kept storing survival supplies and trying to be self-sufficient.
"We imagined several scenarios, from losing our access to communication and transportation technology - vehicles were gasoline-powered for the most part then, and computers could still fail by any number of means - to being carried off the planet by our outer space brothers and sisters whom we had not, to our knowledge, met yet.
"We also imagined this,” he said, gesturing toward the room and the people, “something so magical that we would experience instant transformation and all ills would be healed, both social and personal. The planet would again be as new. It is just that we could not foresee with our rational minds how that could work."
"My dreams kept becoming more intense," said Kate-Amee. "Sometimes I wasn't sure what was the dream and what was my ordinary life. In fact, I could be dreaming now. If so, I hope I don't wake up."
"I knocked myself out trying to become enlightened," Shae laughed. I felt the Presence in everyone around me, friends and strangers both. I thought that if I meditated more, the problematic world would dissolve. Meditation did provide me with plenty of ecstasies, but humanity kept seeming like a bunch of clods."
Wren added, "Worse than that. If you listened to the news, it was one disaster report after another. Climate change, wildfires, earthquakes, drought, pollution, racial and religious wars, financial defaults, rising cost of living, new diseases...need I continue?"
"No!" they all chimed.
"Sorry," said Wren. "It's just that I spent so much time reading, listening to reports, trying to think of solutions. Then, I met Shae. 'Surrender,' she said. I had to laugh. Surrender? Like, give in? 'No,' she told me. 'Surrender to the Greater Being.' Wow. It's that easy? I said. Of course, it wasn't.
"I had to watch my thoughts, change quite a few habits such as turning on the news. Cancel some magazine subscriptions. Stop participating in doomsday conversations. In other words, I had to give up my scholarly pursuit of world change solutions. All for a beautiful woman," he laughed.
"Hey, whatever works. Let me show you," Wren said to those hoping he would share the vision. Pancakes finished. Coffee being poured. Cream. Honey. Deep breaths.
"I'm sitting in my office, in front of the computer screen, worrying a little about the effects of an oil spill in the Atlantic when the phone rings. I answer. A voice, a pleasant female voice, says, 'I was given your name by a friend who said you might be interested in attending a meditation and movement class I'm offering. No charge. I'm just trying out some new approaches to releasing stress and engaging the higher consciousness."
"Okay, when?" I say.
"Tomorrow night, 8pm, my place at 4217 South Walnut.”
"Okay, I say. I don't know why I said okay, just a feeling that this could be refreshing.
"Next night. I'm in the car. It's raining. I wonder what I am doing. How is meditation and dance going to help anything. I mean, the world is crumbling. It is probably not fixable...oh, there it is, 4217.
"I don't have an umbrella, me Mr. Prepared, and no umbrella. I park and run to the door. She answers. Nice, I think, responding to her looks. The room smells good. There are piles of shoes on the floor. I get the message. Take mine off. Glad my socks are clean. I'm a little damp though.
"She's talking to me, but I'm distracted. Maybe its the room. Soft light. Spacious. Maybe ten other people. Music playing, the kind you would expect. New Age? Maybe. I'm full of 'maybe's.' I sit down on the floor. Breathe. Relax.
"She rings a bell. Talks. She is wearing a beaded shirt, very nicely done; must be hand-crafted. Pants that flow. Rings that make a rattle sound when she moves her hands. I like watching her. Great, I say to myself, I'm getting turned on to some spiritual teacher - is that what she is - that I don't even know. I'm judging myself, disapproving.
"She probably explained what she is doing, but I am mesmerized. She is dancing in front of me. I hear, 'Surrender.' Did she say that? I look around at the others. They are watching her too. She goes before each one. 'Surrender.' She continues her dance, barefoot, beads flashing in the light, bracelets jingling, rings rattling, just lightly, every so lightly. Nice, I think.
"Some people lie down. I sense she has told us to do what we feel like doing. I want to dance. My surrender is to give up my ego, stand up, move with her. My ego says I will make a fool of myself. Some greater part of me says, you will be a fool not to give up and surrender to your soul. It is what is moving you.
"I stand, awkwardly at first. The music seems to get louder. I go with it. I've never done this before. I just respond to the flow, to her movement, to the sound in my body. I forget who I am, at least who I thought I was. I don't want this music ever to end, this moment, this connection. I'm lost in it. Or found. And is there a difference. Thoughts. Let them go, I tell myself.
"It does end, the music that is. I'm a little embarrassed now, but fascinated. She explains to everyone something about how, when the environment is right and there are no distractions, the Presence makes itself known. It then calls to us, to our whole body, and asks us to surrender to the moment. Be with whatever is happening with the fullness of our being. This is true meditation, she says.
"She uses me as an example. Others respond, 'Yes, we could see Wren was really letting himself go and becoming a fully engaged Self, a greater being.' 'I felt like I was watching God and Goddess meet,' someone else said. People smiled, some quiet laughs, some agreement.
"I felt that too," I said. Then, I wanted to run away or to make everyone leave and just be here doing it again, dancing, being God. You jerk, I thought, criticizing myself again for these thoughts. I took a deep breath, looked at my watch. 9:30pm. People began to say good-bye. Some hung out to talk details of the event. When is the next one, things like that.
"I took some more deep breaths, wondered if I could be last to leave. Yes, it looked like it was working out that way. 'Wren,' she said, 'thank you for taking the risk and surrendering yourself to the dance.'
"Sure," I said, 'It was quite an unusual experience. Very special.' I just kept looking at her, wanting to say more, to surrender again. She said, 'Sit with me a few minutes if you have time.'
"Sure," I said, 'Sure. Yes. Surrender. 'Breathe,' she said, and I did. I am emptying myself of me-ness at this point. I am losing control. Losing boundaries. I am expanding into everything around me. I am merging, permeating every object, including this goddess before me. She is a sparkling jewel and I am a light shining upon her. My body is nowhere and everywhere at the same time. I am floating. She is still.
"She lifts her hand
