Every child has known God, Not the God of names,

Not the God of don'ts,

Not the God who ever does Anything weird,

But the God who knows only 4 words

And keeps repeating them, saying:

"Come Dance with Me."

Hafiz

As we sink deeper into presence, into the wide-open spaciousness of wholeness, into clear-eyed intelligence and life in its’ never-ending fullness, all manner of motion is welcomed freely.  

We are turning and life beckons us to dance with it.  We are movement and we are change. We are alive and we are invited to know ourselves, examine our lives and dance our hearts out.

The more all aspects of movement are free to dance, truly embraced and free, the more we recognize that being and its unfolding are one faultless and harmonious whole.  Nothing is excluded. 

We all derive from the one source of consciousness.  In silent stillness, when you listen deeply, you can touch and feel the heart dance in the presence of completeness.  In the stillness of presence, paying close attention, consciousness illuminates your radiant being, a being that is steady and untouched by the ups and downs of daily living. 

This numinous state of being, calmly sitting at the kitchen table drinking a steaming hot cup of tea.  Unbothered by the comings and goings of the world, unconcerned with endings . . . or beginnings.  Just Being, in equanimity.  As the sun is, just is, without care; even with all that is going on.  The sun rises.  The sun sets. Breathing in and breathing out . . . sipping tea, the world is falling apart . . . breathe in and breathe out the sweet scent of peace.  Breathe deeper and exhale smooth and even calmness. 

Self-realization - your essential nature, pure consciousness, reflecting all that is, exactly as it is. It is this clarity that makes self-awareness possible. The deeper you sink into presence, the more you have the ability to self-reflect in profound ways. This reflection, which from the ego’s point of view, can be terrifying, when seen from the calm, holding breathe of presence opens and opens, in deeper ways . . . broader ways, with no end to the beauty of Self recognizing Self.  The beauty of everything and anything.  Everything and anything just the way it is.

Much of seeking is longing for the peace that surrounds seeing things just as they are, not mangled and packaged by judgments and conditioned beliefs. The longing to respond as life, creatively, with authentic and effective impact.  

Examining your life and becoming more conscious and more self-aware of what makes you tick is powerful.  Looking at your beliefs and habits, your conditioned patterns and motivations . . . touching into them with open arms and warm acceptance can rescue you from distortions and illusions that have you convinced there is some absolute right and wrong, some objectively good and bad way to live.  

‘Right’ and ‘wrong’, ‘good’ and ‘bad’ . . . so often the language of worry, fretting and shame . . . shame in not living up to some abstract and conceptual moral code of illusory saving grace. 

I have been reflecting on shame, and its tendency to keep one away from oneself and the Self . . . at all costs. 

We come into this world needing to be loved.  Given the limited nature of the human psyche every one of us experiences not feeling loved in one way or another.

A child, reasonably and naturally self-centered, internalizes not being sufficiently loved, believes he or she is lacking or bad; somehow or another is to blame for any such lacking.

This begins a cycle of shame.

We are so conditioned to think that something is wrong . . . with me, my life, the world and that we need to fix, change, improve it.  

This cycle of shame is piled on by many religions and institutions.  We are taught we need improving and we are shamed when we stray off paths. The belief that something is wrong with us is often so deeply embedded in the psyche that it goes unexamined, simply assumed it is true and, again, often without even questioning it, build a case for our wrongness. 

Shame has done its’ job well.  Kept you from going near not feeling loved, not feeling wanted, not feeling worthy.   Shame is a dense, thick and sticky defense . . . and it is powerfully effective in keeping you small and asleep. 

To begin with, it might be kinder to get to know this gatekeeper slowly  – if you collapse, a little or a lot, when things don’t go as planned, when you have been rejected, when something is not ‘perfect’, when you make a mistake, when you have been criticized (or even disagreed with) look into the shadows for shame.

Shame guards against love as well – crazy and sad as that sounds.  If you shy away from, run in the opposite direction when you are complimented, told how ‘good’  or lovely you are, met with a soft and open heart, invited towards intimacy, look into the shadows for shame.

Shame has the power to steer you away from deeply examining your life, and even more profoundly, keeping you from sinking deeper into presence and, even crazier, blind you from your true nature. 

Resist the (understandable) temptation to either hide from or act upon shame.  I can tell you, first-hand, when you get to the point where any shadow material neither scares you nor browbeats you, (or for that matter, pretends to be a good and familiar friend) it loosens and liberates within the open arms of loving presence.   Love wins every time, through radical acceptance and inclusion of whatever shows up. 

Decades ago, I visited Dachau, the WWII concentration camp.  It is located outside Munich, walking distance to quaint cafes, homes and tree lined streets.  The energy of the camp, which covers what seems like acres of land, was palpably dark and horrific. I remember literally bursting into tears the second I stepped foot into the camp and it seemed to me my outburst was as much a reaction (physical) to the heavy, dank, thick and oppressive energy as it was to the understanding of where I was and what it meant. 

The camp was pretty preserved – the buildings and the fencing and the guard towers.  It didn’t take any imagination to know where I was and what I was seeing.  

The darkness was overwhelming, making it hard to walk and rendering me speechless.

In the middle of the camp the Carmelite nuns maintain a small chapel.  The Carmelite nun Sister Maria Theresia deliberately chose the former Dachau concentration camp because of the horrors that took place there.  It was to become a place of offering and prayer and so establish a living symbol of hope. The courtyard and the church are publicly accessible through an opening in a former guard tower.  Since 1964 they have prayed, rung church bells and lit candles in the chapel, around the clock.  Many nuns lived on the premise.  The energy in the church was light, breathable, and radiant.  Its’ presence seemed to be contained within its’ walls.  I sat there for some time, grateful for the reprieve from the overpowering darkness of the camp.

I left the church, having to walk the full distance back to my car, meaning retracing my steps through the entire camp. 

I was profoundly struck by how good I felt – how at ease and light hearted I felt, step by step back through the camp. I still took in the buildings, the fencing and the darkness, but the horrors of the camp had lost its’ power.  I didn’t try to make any sense of things; but I couldn’t help notice and be awed at how different I felt having spent time in the stillness inside the church.

The feeling of that experience has remained with me all these years later.  The energy, the light and the silence of the church, small in size, dwarfed by the size and intensity of the energy in the camp, is palpably and experientially stronger and more powerful.  

This is something we all get to find out for ourselves, from within.  The power of love over fear, compassion over shame. The immensity of love, and the smallness of fear and shame when we look it in its’ eyes. 

“May today there be peace within.  May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be.  May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others.  May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.  May you be content with yourself just the way you are.  Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.  It is there for each and every one of us.”

                                                                                    St. Therese of Avila