Since she was a girl she’d dreamed of dancing and when she became a woman she hadn’t put all of her childish dreams away.
She took many dance classes hoping to discern the one she was created for.
So began the process of receiving patients.
Religious statues removed
Spiritual words omitted
Finally the dance floor
She was equally invigorated and depleted with the process and received instruction on how to alter herself to improve her energy. Later she determined the process was the cause of her depletion, not the dance.
She didn’t understood the purpose of asking where it hurt because her five senses were warm and working together already knew.
She didn’t understood the purpose of using unintelligible sentences to avoid calling something what it was, to obfuscate truth and then require agreement.
She didn’t understood the purpose of exchanging explicit understanding with a signature when every carbon copy released liability for causes and results.
Students modified their dance for cancer patients undergoing chem(o)therapy as numbness was expected yet she felt numbness was just another dance that had no limits of application for a society globally treated by chemicals and with no more or less intent to be released on the dance floor.
She searched for truth and found there wasn’t much she believed in except her place on the dance floor and decided that for her the process was a lie so no longer could she dance. Not there.
She felt health was not a qualifier capable of releasing one from patient status. Pain could be seen and felt everywhere and sometimes it required understanding and not relief. Sometimes the bearer only required reminding it was temporary, that no circumstance was permanent. Sometimes the bearer just needed to know a dance floor existed and that a willing partner was on standby and volunteering to take their hand.
She’d dressed as one who might fix things she didn’t feel were broken and in the process not able to overtly (re)present the patient to themselves yet this is where the healing lived, within the pain, where it is intended we learn how to co-exist. As they looked outside of themselves to feel her hands she stood as a conduit where the truth was locked in a glass case of tradition and tied with tape to match the color of city ordinanace. Perhaps some would feel better in the end but if so they might attribute it to her and such would be false belief and disservice to their soul’s evolution.
She rethought the process to discern her role. She wanted to invite them in and talk to understand the music they were playing for themselves so she could offer a sound altogether different before asking them to dance.
She considered a simpler process of: Observe, listen, sing, dance.
When she is touching you, you are touching her. When you are being healed she is being healed.
The process of care and dance of spiritual love