Playful water, splashing all over my face and body, meandering through the crevices along my ears, eyes, nose and mouth, feeling each and every part of my body whilst I dance standing still in one place – at the center of all my thoughts and things around my thoughts. I am dancing naked to the song of the gushing and also trickling water without the thought of anyone watching me. Nothing of the world matters. New distinct thoughts start to come, summarizing millions of cluttered thoughts previously in my head. I am in a trance. (At that time, I did not know that.)
When the water stops I feel my cold hands turning the taps off. The song is over and my dance will end in silence. No applaud, because no one was watching. I now start to face myself again. Face, what I am thinking, what others are, and the world starts to matter again.
‘This must mean a good thing, right – me thinking the world matters?’
My head was low. I could feel the line of thin wetness between my cold feet and the tiled floor. I could feel that, but no longer could I feel everything else, all at once. I started to ask myself questions whose answers I never needed to know during my hypnotic shower. I started to think about one thing after another, not everything at once. Within a minute I was shuffling from one thought to another and my head felt cluttered and heavy.
What could I do? I could only gracefully say goodbye to my experience with a gentle hope that we will once again meet.
I had to go back to the order of my life now: back to reality.
As I walked back, I wondered why all those thoughts that were so clear under the flowing tap felt so estranged to me, like a distant dream. I wondered why I could not carry the dream in my reality. (A thought often thought…) It seemed an absurd idea.
But what if it was possible?
What if I could capture and carry this state of reverie with me?!
I had to think of something quickly, or I might miss catching this fluttering hope within my grasp. The first thing I thought of doing was the simplest – writing this down.
‘The only way I can carry my joyful thoughts with me is by doing something with it. I will carry them wherever I go, wherever I am.’
A foretaste of uncanny hope approached; I felt a sense of mission sprouting within me. At the same time, I was getting weary with this sense and felt the urge to let go of it and return to the order of everyday life. Yes! Let me just go back to normalcy.
However, my instincts administered an urgent appeal to give this heavy mission more of my energy.
It was as if someone tapped my shoulder from my back and when I turned around I saw it was me telling me to give this moment its rightful chance.
My thoughts crawled back to what I was thinking – ‘the only way I can carry my joyful thoughts with me is by doing something with it.’ Something clicked.
I thought of some of the happiest people (as I believe) and remembered sharing special moments of infinite joy with them – artists. They are those who trust their thoughts and feelings and do something beautiful with them. If they didn’t do that then how would I have reveled in their art?
They did not stop at expecting life to be beautiful for them. They involved themselves. They did something with their beautiful thoughts. They listened to life and they spoke back. They were there, instilled in the perfect conversation with life and the soul.
My feeling of weariness started to dissipate and I knew something was onto me.
In my trance, I was not in control, nothing of the world mattered, I was there. I felt at one with creation.
Outside of my trance, I wanted to be in control, the entire world mattered, I was not there. I felt lost and abandoned.
I had always been trying to conquer my life and so without even communing with it. I was squirming through my own shell of expectations. There was reason, but no peace.
I would need to be there, taking life as it is. I would need to carry my beautiful thoughts unto my reality and create life out of it.
This is Art. This is creativity.
This is being alive to me.
Now I can dance.