THE ETERNAL DANCE.

CHAOS ISN’T THE ENEMY.  

IT’S AN OPPORTUNITY TO DANCE.

In a world that does everything to avoid the intensities of life, I lose control. We condemn intensity. We attempt to extinguish the flame. We label depth as “weird,” simply because of our own deficits. In a world that constricts, I expand. I’ve always played small and shielded my depth out of fear of being misunderstood and outcasted. A part of me began to think that what I projected was all that I was. The experiences I attracted reinforced it. The people I surrounded myself with reinforced it. I reinforced it. But tucked a way was a kind of depth that I believed would scare people away. Make people uncomfortable. Make ME uncomfortable. You see, It was never about anyone else at all. It was about unleashing what was caged, A caged bird, I was. I discovered freedom in fleeting moments, but it was never the kind that stuck. It was the kind that passed through like the wind. Chaos ignited me. What others would perceive as madness, sparked curiosity. The beauty of chaos when you decide to dance instead of conform, or worse, resist, is an art form. To dive in to the neglected realities of emotion is a dauntless act. It’s often a lonesome one, too. It’s one that can’t be explained or conceptualized outwardly. It’s a chemical reaction that occurs between the psyche, body, and spirit. It’s internal. It’s what Carl Jung would call the process of individuation. Where the unconscious becomes conscious. For me, it occurred quite rapidly. I still don’t know why. Part of me knows it’s because I surrendered. I gave up all of what I associated my identity with in the physical form. Friends. Money. Goals. People pleasing. Validation. Love. Instant gratification. Many would perceive this as pure chaos, but for me it was creation. Chaos is creation. In the midst of chaos, I danced. I flung myself into the void. Into the abyss. No expectation, No curations. Ego-absolved. I danced. I brought remnants of all that was valuable from the void. I burned down what was no longer sustainable for my dance. The dance between my human and my spirits has been fueled by chaos. My psyche even processes the word ‘chaos’ from a completely different lens now. Chaos is no longer imposed; it is cultivated, as a catalyst for the alchemical process. I understand now why God told me to dance. It was never about the mere act itself, although it played a part. It was preparation for the devotion of eternally dancing. Throughout the whole period of chaos, I was being initiated into a life that my caged self would have never imagined. It was the workings of the void. It was the workings of chaos. That taught me to dance.

There I learned that chaos isn’t the enemy. It’s an opportunity to dance.

So dance. . .