The Secret Doctrine of Being Beautiful

Sunday, February 06, 2005

Keepers of the Sacred Flame

She was a fine ballet dancer before she turned herself into a flamenco Gypsy.
She taught herself everything to be the authentic Flamenco dancer --
from her speaking tone, to her body language to her glances …she had lived in Span for this transformation.

I thought she was a Gypsy the first time when I took her class. Later I found out that she was from New Jersey. There were no secret in the studio dressing room. Beautiful dancers were not that beautiful when gossiping in the dressing room. In a comic way, we all knew one another very well in many levels.

I loved her, even though it was hard for me to dance flamenco, too much gravity and too much polarity. I was not interested in “ mating dance “ per se‘, but I was in love with the disciplines that took enormous amount of strength. Above all, I was fascinated with the spell from those feet works. I saw this strength also in another great friend of mine, S. R. … They both had tremendous power that was not too much ethereal but extremely physical. I was like a fairy falling in love with humanity and wanting so much to become part of it. The price of this was high -- I got injured by trying to be physical, just like others got injured by trying to fly.

She made a simple announcement after the class, that she would perform in a Spanish restaurant in Queens, NY,
Dance in a restaurant? In Queens?
Had she not danced enough on great stages or in opera theaters?
I would not tolerate if people were “eating” while I was dancing … No, I would not tolerate being treated as an entertainer ... what was going on here?

It was like in a different world …Small and cozy, like a restaurant in Span instead in Queens, NY. The waitress brought us very fine food for the enjoyment. . I could not really “enjoy” any food at this moment. I was waiting to see a live performance from one of the greatest dancer that I have ever met in this lifetime, and she was my teacher.
There was a small stage with simple lighting, just like any stage in any restaurant. A fat man came to the stage made announcement first in Spanish, then in English -- Ladies and Gentlemen ---
Dressed in black twirling with a guy who dressed in gold like a club magician ... there she was, my beloved teacher M. M.

They did few traditional dance to entertain the guests while the “eaters” were drinking, talking, eating away every finest danced motions.
I could neither eat nor drink … under the spell from the wise ones, story-tellers, shamans and priestesses ... in robes, in veils, with swords, with castanet ...
"they" were all here, dancing through her and dancing around me. She grew taller and taller, her faces turned pale ... legends and myths were decoded in this moment while she and I were dance as one in spirit … I became her, sweat, on fire, spinning away layers of concepts and ideas, burning away the flesh, and turned into that one flame… Step by step, we marched together ... We were ancient and ageless, we were the priestess in the temple of Harthor, the temple of Isis, and the Temple of Aum, we were burned as witches in the Dark Age, somehow it has lasted to this day … then, I saw hero in the battle field, left their bodies behind in dignity like what has been told in those ancient songs …I saw babies ... and we have been coming back, beautiful and brilliant more than ever, like the flowers in the Springs ... Every cell in my fiber was telling a thousand stories ... I did not understand Spanish but I “saw” the stories behind the songs …such union, such beauty ...through my tearing eyes, I saw the glittering dew drops in her eyes.

Keep on dancing, keep on breathing … we travelled beyond space and time, lifetimes memories were spinning through our veins ... dust to dust, only pearls remain. Then we were back to this room, seperated again ... Fanned by my gazed, her firy feet tunred this tiny stage into a bonfire while I was sitting in my chair, sweating ... the whole restaurant felt like a cave now, women in black danced their dreams and sorrow, firy chanted with men, in tight pants, who danced like wild bull ... In a moment, those dancers vanished into the cigarette smoke, and the applause brought me back to my seat. Then, I knew why she chose to dance on this humble stage ... My soul was sobbing in ecstasy, there was much more to remember and much more to forget …

Deliberately, she bowed, with her eyes lowered, and a subtle glance just for me. Tears were but sparks … to kindle the fire for the sleepy souls …
Serving humanity in the midst of self-important consumers, Keepers of the Sacred Flame often in humble disguise, like a rare bird to be found.

She came to our table, graciously talked to my best friend M.P. who was my husband then.
Slowly, she looked into my eyes :
“ I danced for you tonight! “
Tears glittering …
We know that this Dance shall never end …

Star Light


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