Shiva Rea's Yoga Trance Dance - Part Three (Fire)

Kripalu Chapel

"Consider a day without dance as a day that has not been fully lived." - Nietzsche

Kripalu is a strange and interesting place.  I love the cloistered spiritual schedule, filled with classes, meditations and workshops throughout the day and being able to retreat to my tiny monk's quarters at night.  Though the downside of Kripalu is well...frankly, the attendees.  The average age here looks to be about early to mid 20s and the traditional "code of silence" that used to be in place during the early Ashram days at mealtimes and in between classes has obviously been lifted.  Trendy twenty somethings gab loudly on their cell phones, chat about their yoga gear and NY in the hallways, squealing and screaming upon greeting each other. On the outdoor patio, with a breathtaking view of the mountains and lake, I actually ended up moving my seat after 15 minutes straight of exclusive gossip from the girl next to me on her boyfriend's sex habits and pot growing "business" that he runs in his basement.    Yes, it is very different here than at the Integral Ashram.   But, I try not to let myself feel so ancient next to the younger generation in their fashionably expensive yoga clothes and shake off any annoyance to focus on what I'm here for.

One of the aspects I love about Kripalu is that its hallways are filled with decorative, giant plaques with inspirational sayings.  Several, as expected, are from the Yoga Sutras, "Yoga is seeing reality as it truly is" and the Bhagavad Gita, "Better to live your own dharma (path) imperfectly than live someone else's life perfectly" (one of my favorites).   But, I was pleased to see other sources of inspiration, including Emerson ("Life is a series of experiments") and one that really got me, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle," from none other than Plato.  So, if nothing else, no matter what you are confronted with inspiration every time you walk up and down the stairs.

When I woke up Saturday morning after the previous night's ecstastic experience, I felt like a truck had ran over me. Nauseus, exhausted, anxious and in an arresting state of melancholy, I forced myself to roll out of bed for the 6:30 a.m. wakeup session, which did turn out to be a lovely awakening of chanting, unjulations, hip openers, fluid movements and cleansings - a lot of prana style yoga.   After breakfast, Shiva gave a power point presentation, which seemed strangely out of place with the body flow of our workshop, but the academic in me was grateful, pulling up a mat, my notebook and glasses, ready to listen intently and take notes like the nerd I was.  She went over a brief synopsis of places in the world where dance is still illegal and how humans have a long ancestral history of dancing (firekeeping, ancient Greece, tribal traditions, etc.)  She spoke of the subjects I talk about in my 135 course, about all the bannings during the middle Ages, and how dance was even punishable by death.  Something I hadn't known, but wasn't surprised by was that Constantine himself banned dance as "the devil's work."  For the most part, dance was either banned altogether or only allowed during religious holidays (or one very interesting fact, that after the black plague, the dance macabre became acceptable only because it was seen as a way to exorcise the devil).  She spoke of the oppression of slave dance because of fear of uprising and how Indian devadasi temple dance was banned by the British.  The results of all this oppression was, according to Shiva, a "physical, spiritual, emotional constipation."

She also mentioned the interesting fact that the saying, "Let your hair down" comes from dance.  Because traditionally dancers always had long, loose hair during tribal dance. The tied back, prim buns were actually partially to prevent any spontaneous and uncontrollable dance moves from bursting out of the corsetted seams (because you wouldn't dance with your hair bunched up).  I actually really enjoyed this academic part of our workshop as it grounded what we were doing even more.  We weren't just jumping and leaping around a room like crazy people (were we?).  No...we were reigniting lost art, lost voices, dancing for all those that couldn't, can't or won't in the history of humanity.  We were tapping into the Rasa (juice of life) and connecting with that underlying pulse of life we call divine energy.  This kind of free form dance is called Sahaja, closely related, our sadhana or spiritual practice.

In the afternoon, Shiva took us up a short walking path to the woods.  She had us pick a spot to meditate on the woods themselves, the way the trees swayed, the natural movement in nature.  She seemed utterly delighted by this exercise and said, "We don't have this in Malibu."  She told us to write in our journals, to think about times in our life when we have "lost our dance."  She said were were there on the holiday, Guru Purnima (celebration of our teachers) and so, she said we could also write about our teachers.  At any other time, this would have been the absolute perfect combination for me (being out in the woods and writing - I mean, it's as if this was custom made just for me!). But, I didn't want to write or be out in the woods at all.  I didn't want to do anything. I felt irritated, angry and frustrated.  All morning, I had felt sick to my stomach, really sad and melancholy, just "off."  Now, this was transforming into a fiery ball of irritation, so tangible and much like a really intensified version of PMS, but on a more acute level.  I didn't understand.  Why was I feeling so much irritation right now?  I kept telling myself, "You're in a place of spiritual power.  You're doing a training on spiritual empowerment and healing.  You're with Shiva Rea!  Knock it off.  Stop being so angry."  But, nothing worked. The anger kept rolling over in me like a red, hot rotisserie and with each turn, grew more and more uncontrollable. 

Looking around at all the serene faces in my group sitting happily and blissfully in lotus under the swaying trees made me burn even more with irrational anger.  The searing frustration grew stronger and stronger and soon, I was so angry tears welled up in my eyes.  Here we go again, I thought.  Why was I crying so damn much here?  Soon, the anger came into focus and I felt an overwhelming flood of emotions towards a certain situation in my life that had been dominating my soul for months, feelings of absolute helplessness, betrayal, loss of trust, mental and emotional exhaustion, worry, anxiety, resentment, heaviness, depression, sadness...just overwhelming SAD-NESS, then numbness, and then searing fury as an inside voice screaming, "Why?  Why does it have to be like this?" Why did I feel as if I was constantly fighting for a cause but it never seemed to be enough?  Why did it feel like I was always fighting for a happiness and love that was just out of my reach, just within my fingertips, but never quite close enough?

This fiery funk lasted throughout the afternoon, through another "shaker" session where I'm sure I shook my eggs with the frowny look of a gradeschooler forced to sit in the corner.  I hated everyone and everything.  I felt powerless.  

After dinner (I had to admit, it was hard to stay angry with food this good), I felt a little better, a little more myself.  We met the musicians who would be performing that evening.  We listened to each demonstrate their beautiful instrument and it was an honor to have that experience in an intimate setting, before the doors opened to the entire Kripalu population.  Tonight, Shiva was hosting a Trance Dance open to all.  As crowds and crowds of people (I think the entire population of Kripalu) poured through the "OM" doors, the once quiet chapel took on the ambiance of a New York hot spot.  With no room for floor work, Shiva had the entire crowd stand together close, with palms of our hands on the person in front of us and chant "OM" for about ten minutes.  It was surprisingly moving.  So many people, literally hundreds, all connected, all chanting the same OM.  It was the largest collective OM I had ever participated in and felt my resistance and irritation give and melt away a bit.

After an interesting performance of tattooed men with staffs (a very ritualized, very phallic, very tribal dance), the lights turned low and the live music heated up as Shiva stirred us into the "fire" aspect of the dance pretty quickly.  Soon, we were jumping and dancing around like mad people (or Saturday regulars at a local trance club).  I moved to the rhythms and next to me, a small gay fellow covered in glitter danced like he was at Queer as Folks' Babylon - I had to love it.  It was definitely a different energy with so many people here tonight than it had been the night before, but I still let myself go, let my body move in every inch.  The live Indian music really had an affect and at one point in the night, even the musicians took turns jumping out and trance dancing it out.  

Then, when the musicians were really hitting it hard and everything was at a peak intensity, Shiva hopped up on the stage right in front of me, literally a few inches from me and in the "blue flame" of the fire, as she describes it, we danced and moved and grooved and I couldn't take my eyes off her, she was so shamanic and fluid and just...happy.  In the moment. I closed my eyes and smiled.  I couldn't stop smiling.  Then, I couldn't believe it, I opened my eyes and Shiva was looking right at me as she shot me the most serene, beatific smile I have ever seen on a human face.   Yeah, I thought.  There it is. Any anger or frustation seemed planets away now, as a I danced it out and let it all melt away through my fingertips, through the ends of my crazy, flying hair (not pulled back in a bun!), and through the soles of my feet.  There was nothing left but to smile.

Shiva soon wound us down (I was impressed with how she handled such a huge crowd.  It would have been easy for it to get out of hand, wild with spontaneity, but she always kept the flow structured and stayed in control) and seamlessly we were led into a traditional Kirtan (devotional singing) one of my favorite aspects of Indian spirituality.  As hundreds of people crowded around this chapel to chant Hare Krishna, Hare Rama and Om Namah Shivaya, my eyes fixated once again on the Shiva Nataraj statute, lit up with disco lights, his leg kicking up as he dances on the demons of ignorance, greed and ego, as he brings both destruction and creation.  This chapel had once housed devout, quiet, solemn Jesuits as they prayed towards the crucifix that once stood here.  I thought, Hinduism in America.  What a blessing.  What a clever absurdity.  What a riot.  God definitely has a sense of humor.

To be continued...