About the love for truth in the guise of dance
The wish to enable people to partake in the experiences and pictures of my inner and outer journeys, though they cannot be physically present, was planted as a seed in my heart many years ago:
In the Indian village in which I had just started to live in, a ceremony was about to take place. It´s official intention is a mystery to me up to this day. My spiritual teacher asked me to take my "Gungrus" (=ankle bells in Hindi) along. On arrival, feeling a bit intimidated, I sat down on the bold ground amongst the small gathering.
One of the elders cheekily and enthusiastically grabbed my ankle jewelry and put it around his own lean ankles. He pulled himself upright on his walking support, a simple wooden stick, and started to walk rhythmically around it in circles, while the others were singing.
My gaze followed the naked feet, now decorated with the bells, tenderly stamping on the hard and dusty sunburnt earth, gently moving upwards, along his torn, tattered and washed out dhoti (=a simple cloth, wrapped around the waste) and his shoulder-covering shirt.
His head was slightly tilted back and upwards. His eyes were closed. The gentle smile uncovered the few teeth which were left in his mouth. There was a gentle glowing in his face. It looked ecstatic, yet natural and quietly enjoying. One could only imagine the deep inner places he was transported into. Above his head, my gaze merged into the blue, wide open and cloudless sky.
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