Disappear… And Then… Be Found
Moving towards the oneness, within.
“Just like we have two eyes, two hands and two feet…duality is a part of life.” — Carlos Santana
We are two of a kind within one.
The artist and the blank canvas. The writer and the world of words. The earth and the sky. The bees and the flowers. The light and the shadow. The opportunities and the obstacles. The tears and the laughter. The negativity and the kindness. The form and the abstraction. The dancer and the flowing movements. The breath and the possibility.
We are the sum of dualities
I often wonder as a dancer, when is it that the dance and the dancer become one? How does the voice become the musical notes? What consumes the poet that only the meaning remains? Why is the painting speaking beyond the limitedness of the painter? Where does the sculptor lose himself to become sculpted?
The fact is; We all seek a union. And wish to move towards a oneness.
The inhale needs the exhale, for the life to be complete. The male energy needs the feminine for the metaphors of existence to bloom. The light needs the dark for the multi-layered reflections to open. The ideas need a body to take form. The fire needs a spark for the passion to be ignited. The river needs the earth to carry its emotions. The language needs structure to represent an intention. Love needs devotion for it to transcend.
Where ever the union is, awareness lives
“Every artists dips her brush into her own soul, and paints her own truth into her pictures.” — Datura
We have all heard legends about art and artists. A famous Taoist story takes us closer to this wonderful thought of moving toward non-duality. Over the years, this idea has taken various interpretations in me. From no understanding to awe, from disbelief to unfolding layers, from feeling dwarfed to a desire to be more.
A famous Painter was asked by his patron King to paint his bedroom walls with views of the Himalayas. The King was a lover of the snow-clad stoic peaks and wished to be able to imagine them in closeness.
The Painter, painted for three or four years, relentlessly. No one knew what he was creating, he was breathing in the world of his canvas. Finally, he invited the King to unveil the curtains and see his creation.
The King stood motionless. He was transported in thought to his endless sojourns in the Himalayas. It made the King feel like, he was actually walking through the bends of the white landscape. He felt that the painting had surpassed the real experiences he had gathered while travelling through the mighty mountains. He looked, and looked, a little deeper, a bit closer, in astonishment, completely mesmerized. The King was left speechless.
Suddenly, the trance of the King was broken. He said, “I have been to the Himalayas several times. And never seen this particular path that goes around the mountain. Where did you get the idea to paint and add this mystical path?”
The Painter said, “I don’t really know. Let me go and see, what this path is all about.”
And suddenly the Painter entered his painting, travelled on the path, went behind the curve of the mountain- and disappeared in the painting. The painter never came back from his painting.
Unbelievable! Is it not?
We might laugh at the myth this story holds. We as learned urban humans, know that one can’t enter his painting and never come back from it. We consider this a mystery, a magic, a legend told over time.
But think about it closely.
Only when the art, become one with the artist, devoid of a separation; it becomes pure consciousness.
If the painter can disappear into his painting: only then he a painter. If a writer is lost behind the meaning of her words, only then she is an author. If the dancer, can disappear in her rhythm, movement, and expression, only then she is an artist. If the narrator can become one with the character, only then he is a storyteller.
Be lost to be found
There are these many doors, possibilities, and paths that exist before us. All of them lead us towards a light, a truth, a seeking. But it will be found only by those, who have the courage to be lost in it. Cede to its light, might, flight.
We need to be so totally one with the act, that nothing of us is left behind, even in that last step. In that moment when we feel lost, scared, dark; we will truly begin to find ourself.
The eyes express the emotions, to be forgotten in the spark of a smile
The breath fuels the body, to hide in the joy of being alive
The raindrops sing to the river, to merge into the perpetual flow
The sun gives way to the stars, to disappear into the radiant moon
The alphabet becomes the meaning, to play in the character of the line
The colour defines the canvas, to transcend the known
The moth dances to the flame, to loose itself in eternal love
The seed becomes to the forest, to surrender its identity to nothingness
Thank you for the love to all my friends at Dancing Elephants Press.
Dr. Gabriella Korosi Dr. Preeti Singh Vidya Sury, Collecting Smiles; the wonderful editors, creative women, superb humans and kindest souls.
Which door do we need to knock? If at all…
A fantastic poem by Nandkishor Shingne
