Shiva Rea's Yoga Trance Dance - Part Two (Water)

"The energy that holds up the mountains is the energy I bow down to." - Sufi Master

As we walked in the same chapel I had taken the gentle yoga class in earlier, the atmosphere was completely transformed.  Dimly lit with flickering candles, a small altar cloth with a black, four headed Shiva Lingam (that looked identical to the ones I had seen in temples in Rishikesh) had been placed in the center of the room.  She was already sitting in front of it and as we gathered around her in a circle, I was thrilled to end up sitting just a couple of feet from her.  She passed around shaker eggs and had us sway our bodies as we got into a rhythm with the eggs.  The sounds of the "sshh...ssshhh...ssshhh" motion, the tribal music playing and her soothing voice filled the room with an intoxicating combination.  Soon, eyes were closed, bodies were swaying and everything just kind of melted away. 

Shiva spoke of being an infant, how as a child we are born to dance, born to move, born to tap into this primordial creative energy (Shakti).  Then she had us put our shakers up to our ears, they sounded crisp and loud that closely. Then she instructed us to change rhythms with the eggs, but even as we did, she noted that we were still all in sync, the chaos was still order.  This is a principle of Hindu philosophy that I have been teaching for over a decade in my Eastern class, but I loved this tangible way of explanation and noted to start utilizing this way of showing it in my classes.

Soon we were up off the floor, but still moving slowly, with the heavy, intense tribal drumming seeming louder and louder.  She instructed us to begin moving around the space, around each other, focusing just on our arms, our hips, our legs, letting different body parts emphasize the rhythm and movement.  Then, she had us do this interesting "bow and arrow" type movement that reminded me of the infamous Hulk Hogan pose in the 80s where he'd stretch one arm out and bend the other elbow to bring his hand to his ear.  This memory, of course, made me love this particular movement. Like most Trance Dance or Kundalini moves, she instructed to bring our arms back and out quickly, with more vigor.  Then, we did the pulled the energy out and down, quickly with a series of syncronized arm pulls...hard to describe, but extremely invigorating and exhilerating. The music got more intense and everyone just sort of let go.

From here on, everything got a bit blurry in structure.  The academic in me was forced to take a back seat to the experience at hand and I happily pushed my note taking self aside to make room on the dance floor.   After minutes, seconds, hours...I don't know if anyone was quite sure, we experienced the "collective flow" advertised with the Trance Dance experience. I don't know what any one else felt, but I couldn't believe what I was feeling.  The combined travel exhaustion, exhileration of being here and my pure, passionate love of movement and yoga had united to produce a quite altered mindstate.  I started feeling a tingling sensation throughout my extended arms, my leaping legs, my swaying hips...a natural energy high fueled by every one else's movements in that space, the tribal drums, the rhythmic Indian citar and all the energy work we had done to lead up to this.   Pretty soon we were all leaping around and lost in our own body/mind worlds.  Moving as a part of each other's space, but at the same time, in our own experience while Shiva uttered gems like, "Think of your ancestors moving across continents, dancing in the night." 

Then, completely unexpectedly, I was filled with this shudder.  Now, I have had plenty of great times dancing, feelings of release and ecstastic flow, whether it was in my living room, at clubs or at wedding receptions, I have felt that rush of dancing to amazing rhythms all night.  But, this rush was different.  Stronger.  My eyes didn't just fill with tears, but instantly started overflowing with them and I involuntarily started bawling like a little kid.  Like a dam breaking, something in me just lost it and I was overcome with intense emotion.  I tried to refocus, but no matter what, I couldn't stop crying.  Then, I was hit with another strong sensation of complete release, a feeling not unlike what I experienced when skydiving a few years ago.  Total spiritual surrender.  A feeling of "everything is going to be alright" came over me in a strong crashing ocean wave.

I kept dancing. I kept moving no matter what.  Moved through the waves, through the floodgates, through the surrender.  And then I opened my eyes and saw Shiva's slender, white clad figure moving in this almost Shamanic way right next to me (I know this sounds hippy dippy, but I don't know how else to describe it - her bending, forming, tribal curving, concocting, conjuring series of interwoven movements blended with the tribal drums). We danced in the same space and I had one of those moments you have in life, that moment of simple bliss of knowing you are exactly where you are supposed to be in that moment and then she smiled at me and I smiled back. 

The tears still wouldn't stop.  Even when Shiva instructed us to do the Tandava (cross over Nataraj kick) and even when everyone got in a big circle and pulled all the energy back down.  The tears just kept rolling.  She brought us down to the floor in Savasana and in 18 years of doing yoga, never has this pose felt more needed, appropriate or sacred to me than in that experience, in that moment right then.  I sprawled onto the floor in a heap the way my dog often just flops her body down in a pile in the sun as if her legs and arms gave out from under her suddenly. I lay there as the music continued, and couldn't take my eyes off the Nataraj (dancing Shiva) statue on the altar at the front of the chapel.  I had seen it all day, but now it caused a completely different feeling in me.  I was overwhelmed with feelings of empowerment, release, clarity, and ineffable spiritual connection with something pulsing beneath the surface of it all.

It was hard to come back to the surface itself, but slowly, Shiva's voice called us back.  And then she began quietly talking about yogic/dance principles and preparing us for the next day.  I was sort of half paying attention, my mind still sloshy from the ecstatic energy and my eyes still all full of tears, when I heard her say, just like any other word and not in any particularly defining way, "Fuck."  I perked up, then she added in her soft, velvety voice, "you know, sometimes you need to balance out your purity. I have Irish ancestors.  It's okay."  Smiling, this of course, made me love her even more.  A spiritual guru who says Fuck and credits the ancestors?  Couldn't love it more if I tried.   Then she told us to not eat too much so we don't "have a Kripalu fart baby."  Is it weird that even saying this, she still sounded like a wise spiritual sage?  It's true.  She totally did.  I can only dream of saying things like "fuck" and "fart" and still sounding wise and beatific - it's a new goal for me for sure, especially in my profession.

I went to bed ecstatic and unable to fall asleep because of how buzzed up and mojofied I was.  I figured the whole weekend would be full of this feeling of having my finger on the pulse of God and I couldn't wait to ride the wave.  But, of course, I would be naive to think that kind of experience would be so easy to hold on to.  Ecstasy doesn't ride alone.  Too many other emotions get brought up in that spiritual scoop.

To be continued...