salsa dancing that turns into dreams
last night i went salsa dancing. an entry all to its self…
a few hours into the night i was in the bathroom primping with all the other ladies and pondered out loud, ‘ imagine inventing salsa dancing’… they… as many people do… looked at me funny.
‘ i mean, once there wasn’t salsa dancing, and then there was. someone had to make it up.’
i was watching some of the professionals dance last night. salsa amazes me. the music and the movement, expression of the music. it’s so beautiful, intricate, free, old, divine.. so much and man.. i hardly know how to do it but sure do love it anyway. when i am out salsa dancing it is IMPOSSIBLE to wipe the smile from my face. total bliss and joy.
so i was watching people dance in awe that something like this exists. that someone, many people over the years have created, designed, added to, mastered this thing, this dance, music, all of it. in awe of the joy it brings to so many people. in awe of the variety of people on the dance floor from all over the world, sharing and reveling in an old, traditional expression.
then i went to sleep, mind still spinning. i dreamt that i was traveling with my friend matt. he took me somewhere, to a secret museum to show me all of these incredible creations. i saw sketches of what would become the bible when it was just an idea, there were outlines of what would become the declaration of independence, there were drawings of what would be bhagavad gita, music scores by mozart…
then i was looking in the eyes of george washington. in this place was his corpse, behind glass. i could see his rotting teeth, his white hair… most intense were his eyes. i stared into his eyes and began to see a person who created a country. a country based on ideas, ideas he had learned from the past what worked what didn’t, his vision. the idea of taking many peoples stories, ideas, listening to people and creating something for all of them, for the greater good, starting from scratch. something that would lead to joy for so many… the perseverance of a vision, the belief in himself and that what he was creating had to be created. the dedication of his life to this creation. perhaps it is his vision that is decomposing.
the eyes of a person who had a dream, a vision for a land where people were thriving, free to express, create, become their own visions. his eyes were wide open, rotting and yet still so alive and fiercely focused, intense and so certain. this presence shook me.
i woke up exhausted, as though i had never slept. i woke up grateful and in awe of all that we have, in all that’s been created for us, to then create from. in awe of the creative process, having just a thought, then idea then creating from that, from nothingness to sheer masterpiece. in awe of everything that has yet to be created, by all of us.