The gift of Dancing Hands….
It’s a bit like where we are with the gift of the Dancing Hands. It wasn’t trained, nor really dreamed up (at least to my limited knowing.) It came on like wildflowers that burst onto a craggy mountainside only after a great, heartbreaking, earth-shatteringly destructive fire. Those who have come to my Dancing Hands Circles have heard me share tiny bits of what led up to this. Yes, there was a marvelous activation by Abdy,and others and oh, heartbreak before that. Yes, I’ve been touring with some pretty spectacularly gifted souls, too, but perhaps like your gifts I’m getting the awareness that we’ve all been being groomed for these paradigm shifting times, and sometimes the proving grounds are none too gentle. Maybe some slip into their gifts like one takes a skinny dip at midnight, but mine may have been more like being thrown from runaway horse.
I’ve been receiving downloads of all kinds of mysterious information since I was pregnant with my daughter Ruby, 25 year ago. As a child I was miraculously saved a few times from near death. Hearing “Get down!” in the backseat of my dad’s car before we wore seatbelts that saved me from flying through the windshield in violent accident – a shout that didn’t come from my earthly father. My brother’s hand also couldn’t have been my brother’s for the one that caught me reached an impossible distance to save me from crashing into the roaring ocean as I slipped on the wet boulders we were jumping along the edge of rising ocean storm. There was also time the moon finally pushed through a whiteout after hiking miles in a snowstorm atop Mt. Rose and becoming lost as a child, where they’d buried me in a snowcave to keep me warm – but that moon came when I prayed, “Please, God,” and we could finally pick our way back to our cabin. Another time, though it wasn’t near death it felt like it for I was blind for three days as a girl when firecrackers blew up in my eyes at Candlestick Park and only as I write this do I see the irony in the metaphor. I had to clutch the hand of my father through the teaming crowd to get help, but finally my eyes healed after what seemed an interminable time.
The day whirls wide. The things I’ve seen only in these past 20 hours — galaxies of goodness met blindingly bright courage to meet and unwrap the gifts of Spirit through these humbled hands and those of others in concert was the thrust of my Thursday. I have disappeared all day to be present to Presence of the Divine in those I meet.
Today, so surprisingly, even petty and cruel political posturing came through our door. An unwelcome guest revealing the heartless grasp for the control of what can’t be barred — one can’t cuff and deny the unstoppable thrust for truth, authenticity, true love and freedom yet, here I heard the chilling try even pushed into one room today of Anita’s office. A scarf wrapped Muslim woman came in bearing huge heartache. Her friend — a current Harvard professor, no less, but so much more — was denied reentry simply for his faith and his papers taken from him before he was sent back to his birth country! Just today! This day! What does this say about “greatness?” Freedom of religion and education denied at the port of air! This times 7 million and my cares drop, and I’m pushed to my knees and then to my feet again to dance prayers for comfort and knowing that light of compassion is stronger than white, cold fear. Prayers for ALL OF IT — for peace, clarity and Goodness of the All-Loving embrace of All-That-Is to prevail. Just know, if you say you are a Christian yet deny the Christed gifts of compassion and love, your words and walk are a tissue paper sieve. Our love must be stronger than our fear.
Trust, hope, vision, the miraculous and unusual unseen helpers that slip into our midst to encourage us, support us, enliven and teach us and in the case of the Dancing Hands, serve to remind us that we all have these ways to connect and dance with the miraculous in every moment.
This week I worked with old friends and new – Even with Stage four cancer we found relief. Even with Stage two cancer we found beauty in the bald knowing that sometimes we have to ask our friends for help. In Stage 10 heartbreak I felt and saw so many arms and wings reaching out to fortify trust and light the fires of courage and hope that we will find relief, comfort, healing, peace, loving compassion, and if we are especially blessed there is even joy in all that if we but allow these tender hearts that try so hard to be tough to be seen as a fellow adventurer, (though healing doesn’t need to happen for the joy to come swooping in like a mother swinging her child into the air. Sometimes it just comes. And sometimes we have to wait for the plane to lift and fly.
Are there any guarantees? Yes. It all turns out eventually. And not only the way we wish – sometimes far better, sometimes far different, but it does turn out and delivers us to peace. Is that enough? It’s more than and we’ll talk more about that soon. Many wish to know what I see, for sometimes I do get glimpses of what’s ahead, but for the most part I see it’s all going to be just fine.