I want to make a difference! Until I can. Then I find that the power is comfortable and I discover that change is not, and I decide it is better to maintain; sit tight; take into account all possible consequences. Consider potential snapback. After all, because I am better, improved, (more powerful, more comfortable), everyone is better. Right? Maybe I will make some small, carefully-considered changes here and there. Changes that will ensure my power-and-comfort is maintained and/or elevated, because my power-and-comfort is the universal standard by which the well-being of the entire world is measured.
I can see reality. I can make judgements and I can express opinions. But I am hesitant to act too drastically for fear of upsetting my apple cart. Instinctively I tend to be afraid that another's gains may result in losses by me and conversely when my life takes a downturn I look for someone to blame; and who better to blame than those who believe and behave (and look and talk) differently than me. So when I attain even a minimal degree of power-and-comfort, I become very cautious and protective and very suspicious of change; which only serves to serve those who have even more power and comfort, and does not in the slightest punish those different than me who of course in actuality have nothing to do with my bad fortune anyway. Yet I believe if we do not choose drastic change, soon, drastic change will continue to choose more and more of us until we, as a universal whole, have no choice.
Walking to work, an hour in the dark, early this morning I saw two things of note:
- A dead bunny.
- A dancing woman.
Sadness and Joy. A bunny on its side, a rabbit in repose, still seemingly bleeding from underneath, yet perfect from above. And this beautiful woman, jazz blaring from her car speakers, 25 degrees outside, in the middle of an empty stadium parking lot, moving, flowing with a rhythmic reckless abandon I could never duplicate, I could only hope to imitate in my mind. And doing so, imagining that joy, that freedom, nearly brought tears. Perhaps the wave of emotion was from the proximal juxtaposition. Sadness and Joy.
For many, I believe probably for most, dancing joyously alone in the dark, cold, early morning hours, in an expanse of empty parking lot, would be thought extreme, radical, crazy, wacky, drastic. But I believe it is exactly what more of us should be doing. And the more I dance, in the cold, in the dark, in a parking lot, in my mind, in my heart, in my soul, the more likely I am to find others also inclined to dance. And perhaps one day the power of individual dance together and/or (imagine it!) the power of one massive reciprocal dance, will overpower the power of power-and-comfort.
THE DANCE
Eloquent relevant frightful Fraught-full and thoughtful, insightful
Muscular ponderous power Creviced, a crinkled-some glower
It shows up when thoughts are directed To wrinkled abstractions reflected
Consider beauty, truth, and death The height, the width, the depth, the breadth
And then there’s anger, love, and strength The volume-scope, the mass, the length
Note wisdom, fear, courage, and hate Lyrical hefty epic weight
Gaze into sadness, peace, and joy Lofty, lusty, fervently coy
How can one ponder, then claim to explain Using mere words as song-chorus-refrain
Circumlocution will always conceal Brooding aloofness will never reveal
True meaning will float, glide, and flutter Thoughts as soft as daffodil butter
Melting through the colloquy net Spoken true, but inadequate
Cannot transform the thoughts into thoughts Cannot reform and untie the knots
The journey from soul to mind to tongue Leaves some chords flat and some song unsung
So bypass your tongue; why take that chance Sing with your heart and let your soul dance
Let your soul dance and let your soul dance Sing with your heart and let your soul dance
With wild abandon, let your soul dance Sing with your heart and let your soul dance