Saturday, January 21, 2012

Face and Embrace

J and I just returned from a fund-raising event for a friend who is battling liver cancer — a young, vibrant mother of two small children, part of a tight-knit family who have already withstood more than their fair share of tragedy in this lifetime.

The room was packed shoulder-to-shoulder when we arrived and the music, a lineup of world musicians, drummers and dancers from the area, had already begun on stage. A makeshift bar had been set up with everything from mixed drinks to three flavors of locally brewed kumbucha, and there was a spread of hot vegetarian and raw food donated by two area restaurants. Dozens of local businesses, healers, artists and craftspeople had donated gift certificates and goods for a silent auction and a long table had been set out to hold the bounty.

Our friend attended the event for as long as she could, seated in a wheelchair by the stage. The drummers pounded their drums for her, the dancers danced in front of her diminished frame with the intensity of tribal healers, gathering spirit and strength from the very depths of themselves and throwing it over her like a blanket of energy. Art, culture and community merged together, blurring the lines between neighbors and family, and for a while all that was comprehensible to me weren't the forms in the room but the energy — everyone fighting, internally, his or her life battle. Some laughing, some crying, some silent, but everyone partaking in the giving and receiving of energy, food, drink, sound and creativity. Everyone offering what they could to the mix, like a stone soup. The evening was a true co-creation.

A community coming together in such a way to support someone so very sick should be the norm and not the exception. To dance at the feet of sickness and drum in the face of mortality is to celebrate life —all of life, not just the pretty parts. It's far easier to turn away from the brutal, undeniable truth that a body ravaged by cancer tells to us. Joining together to face and embrace that truth is where true healing happens.

7 comments:

Karen L R said...

Wow! Amazing post. I hope the powerful magic pulls your friend back to health. I'm sending light and love her way. And to you too...xo

Kimberly Wachtel said...

Thank you so much for putting into such heartfelt, beautiful words a description of what happened last night. I am feeling so much and still don't quite know how to express it after experiencing the energy in that room. Conflicting feelings of joy/ life affirmation and heaviness/grief go round and round my heart. Your words help me understand my feelings a little bit better.

The Cranky Crone, she lives alone! said...

What a depictive post, I was there feeling the energy for a minute, and wished I could be there for longer, sapping up the goodness and releasing it back like a circle of cleansing fire.
Nameste, sending healing thoughts your way and to your friend.

Umā said...

Thank you!

Kim, it was so good to see you last night, in fact in was very comforting to have so many familiar faces present in the crowd. I am completely wiped out today, and still processing...

Mystic Meandering said...

Beautiful Uma - dancing to celebrate all life - as it is. Yes, indeed. Not wanting a particular outcome, but accepting and being with what is, embracing it all. True healing. LoveLove...

Bethany said...

That sounds incredible. I felt like I was there. What an amazing community. Wow.

Lyn said...

"To dance at the feet of sickness and drum in the face of mortality is to celebrate life —all of life, not just the pretty parts." Profound and true.

What a wonderfully descriptive post. It moved me deeply. How beautiful for community to come together to create healing, celebratory energy. No doubt, at the very least, you generated peace for your friend. xxoo

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