Morning After

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The morning after the dance we found the performers had stayed nearby, likely in tents on the property out front. We were in a very secluded, rural part of India where pitching a tent or unrolling a blanket for sleep did not seem odd. In fact, the longer I was in India the more nothing really seemed out of the ordinary aside from our western-living-in-the-future-gotta-get-it-done attitude.

There’s an easy rhythm to India. The people seem inextricably linked to some universal vibration that we have somehow cluttered with our technology and bravado. I know it’s still there. Here. I felt it in every interaction and situation in India, an ease of being. A joy, not happiness, that’s different, but joy of being. I’ve felt it here. We call it synchronicity. We believe it’s something that happens. Not something we can create.  I know now it’s simply a way to be, to allow, to accept. And it take a little practice.

The children and adults who had entertained us the night before were still dressed in the same clothes, bangles and all. They likely slept in them. Perhaps for days. This in no way diminished their joy or self-esteem. Indeed they were every bit as friendly and happy as the night before. Today, they wished to share with us their wares. Jewelry made by local artisans and crafters. They showed every bit as much enthusiasm to sell these bracelets and necklaces as they did to encourage us to dance. It’s their business.

 

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