The Dance of the Divine

Ever the Divine eludes us, but somewhere, somehow, God is in the gaps; God is in the connection, an abstraction and very real reality all at the same time.

This is to say, the Absolute presents itself in my life in a dizzying dance of first the highly structured and patterned realities (such as the Catholic Mass or classic works of art like the Last Supper or Mona Lisa) followed by the unstructured, freed realities of drag queens dancing in queer clubs with disco balls and confetti and the sheer liberation that it affords the personalities who find themselves caught up in the fever of the beat.

God is as much in the moments of my receiving the Holy Eucharist as the moments when I’m listening to techno blasting from my computer; God is both, always running from one to the other and never fully appearing in either, but looming in the background as the Hieros Gamos awaits me to fully awaken to it and combine the opposites, to marry the seemingly unlikely duo that is projected forth from the darkest quarters of my soul into the conscious world I call reality.

And thus I dance, for the truth is not somewhere in the middle but is above, beyond, and manifesting as the individual dancers and the dance and the room in which the dance occurs.

Speed the rhythm along; strip this mortal mind of its limitations and reveal the immortality inherent in all things.



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