The Circle of the Dance in Chicago

When I returned from Kenya in 1984, I was wound up into a snarled wad of experiences. I was confused and disoriented. Clearly, I had not taken care of myself, burned out and not yet in remission with a roller coaster relationship with cancer. Most of all I felt very much alone, unbearably so. I can look back at attachments I made in an attempt, I suppose, to be connected socially. I also recall attempts by others to keep me connected with the community. However, I was alone, ever so alone. The heart beat rhythm of Kenya's culture, throbbed through me. I would recall people in traditional costume dancing in lines and circles during celebrations in the villaes - colorful and faces painted in dunting mask like features. There was life inside me, that had no socially acceptable way of expressing itself in this urban, multi-storied building in which I existed for the time being. The building was the North American center of the ICA (Institute of Cultural Affairs). Life went on around me, as if I was a ghost wandering in and through the rooms, offices, and hallways of this nexus. Tired and feeling hopeless all the time, one morning I picked up my cassette player and forced myself to go to the great hall with the intent to "express myself - claim the promise of existing where I was". The hall was totally empty except for grass green carpetting and pilings. I placed a tape suitable for exercise into the player and the music began. "First there was nothing but a slow flowing dream..." and I began to twirl around the room, then as the beat increased, I leapt in circles, continuing for atleast the duration of the tape, although it may have been longer, since I got totally lost in the experience of flying around this great room, imagining myself in a wild flower field under a bright blue sunny sky. Refreshed, the healing began. I continued this daily ritual, adding yoga-like stretching, endurance increasing, and joy returning to my sense of being alive and present in this place and time. Eventually, I could turn to evaluating priorities and creating new dreams to make reality, Becoming a new person was where I was headed. It was a long journey, but it had begun in that great hall in Chicago. Since then, the dance continues in the spiral of every change, of every return to the present moment where Soul creates dance, where healing begins.

What is your ritual of renewal?