Returned from Fort Wayne refreshed and invigorated, despite dire warnings from internet sources that I should lie low during the longest-of-this-century’s Blood Red Moon Eclipse conjunct retrograde Mars. I am reminded of AKID, those months early this year when dreams of another had intoned the phrase, “Ann Kreilkamp Is Dead,” over and over again, like a tolling bell. What did I do? I freaked out, briefly, then laughed and soldiered on; I soldiered on this weekend as well, despite the fact that this Full Blood Moon eclipse conjunct Mars also came to within a hair’s breath of occurrig exactly conjunct my own natal Pluto!!!
OOOOOO . . . SCARY . . . . .
I didn’t want to mention here this close connection of my own chart with the Blood Moon/Mars, because I didn’t want to jinx the trip in advance.
As I told housemates Dan and Alex prior to taking off for this unusually portentious DUP weekend, either I’ll die or I won’t. Either way is fine with me!
And, three days later, upon my return, such a merry welcome! I came in, Dan rushed out of the kitchen laughing. “I didn’t die!” I yelled, exultant, and flew into his arms.
Not only did I not die (again), but the weekend presented the usual balm for this soul, who wrestles with her ego as much as anyone, and somehow, in the context of 50 others, all dancing and singing together to the rhythms and phrases of all the world’s religious traditions, my ego gets an extra workout, as I find myself, while dancing, internally judging this person and that person, and each time, then, remembering: look within, look within! For whatever I see about a person that I judge against, reflects a part of myself. I do not say this lightly, or poetically. It’s serious work, this continuous effort to see through the machinations of the ego, that part of myself that is admittedly necessary in order to make choices and function in this strange world of ours, and yet that same part of myself, that focusing mechanism, when I identify with it, leads me astray.
But prior to this inner struggle, as usual during these retreat weekends, I spent some time the first few dances just letting the tears flow. Because that is what happens when we meet again in this special atmosphere, all of us longing to see through the passing show to allow in the Love that fills the universe.
(And what a wonderful weekend to meet! When portentous analyses predicted chaos and mayhem! Aside from the terrible fires in Greece and Northern California, perhaps this group of people, and others throughout the world, did spread a healing balm over humanity during one of its most difficult hours.)
So first the tears. That lasted for an hour or so. Then the hard work of wrestling with ego.
This time, I’d say most of that hard internal work was done within the first 24 hours of the retreat. After that, much easier, a continuous, miraculous flow, both within myself and with others, especially in the partnership dances, where we pass each other, one after another, gazing directly through the eyes into one after another purified soul.
All in all about 16 hours of dancing over three days. Exhausted, but invigorated as well.
The dance leaders and teachers, Wali and Arienne Van Der Zwan, who are Dutch, but live in rural Germany, were terrific, combining the intense subtlety of Arienne’s dance instructions, done mostly via her body movements, with the freewheeling drama and humor of Wali’s Sufi stories, singing and guitar. Together as a couple for 40 years, and dance leaders since 1991, they have mastered their art, fine tuning it to the point where you hardly notice what they do, so have they infected you into their own harmonious atmosphere.