Once, during a week-long Dances of Universal Peace event, held at a camp in one of the beautiful valleys of the Wasatch Mountains in Utah, I had an experience like that depicted in the painting above.
We had been dancing and praying and singing and eating together for a week, normal lives suspended. Performing elementary dance steps, holding hands or not, circling in place and circling the room, forming two circles and braiding with each other, briefly, and with trembling vulnerability, passing through each others’ eyes to the soul — the frequency field we generated gradually torqued into an enormous, pulsing engine spiraling creation; so much so that when we stopped I felt dizzy.
Instinctively seekng to ground myself, I turned, from facing the center of the circle to the periphery, and, to my surprise and delight — and awe — when I glanced past the meadow to the forest, the tall trees were waving their green branches, leaping and singing their welcome. I could hear them hearing us hearing them. The trees had picked up the rhythm, and were playfully mirroring it back.
To those who ask, “Did this really happen?” I ask, “Whose reality?” It did in mine.