A Time to Dance(61)

            probably isn’t so different from losing a part of your body.

            I doubt many other students

            know pain as well as you do.”





THE THIRD EYE





Dhanam akka says she

            wants me to work on my part.

            With her. Alone.

            Akka leads me to the hall where we first met

            and motions me to a chair.

            She touches the red dot at the center of her forehead.

            “Veda, do you know why we wear a potu?”

            Her tone is gentle.

            And the last thing I expected

            was for her to ask me a question.

            I’m too surprised to answer.


“The dot symbolizes your third eye,” she says.

            “We wear it to remind ourselves

            to look with knowledge and compassion,

            as a true guru would.

            When we use our inner eye,

            we see with our minds and our hearts.

            We see truth; we see beauty; we see Shiva.

            Inside you, Veda, I sense the flame of extraordinary courage,

            but not enough compassion.

            If you must dance, the way I want my students to,

            you must learn to be compassionate.

            To yourself

            and to others.

            Acknowledge your pain.

            Allow yourself to feel your loss.”


I don’t mind pushing my body to test my balance.

            I don’t want to push my mind

            back into that cold pit where the accident led me.

            But if that’s what it takes to dance again,

            I’ll make myself relive

            the tree coming closer

            the smells of burnt rubber, of vomit, of blood.

            Screaming

            silence.


Shivering, almost doubled over, I take a step

            down into the space where light is an enemy

            but not even darkness shrouds my terror.

            Another step

            into hospital corridors

            winding like snakes.

            I enter my writhing mass of fear, horror, desperation.

            And stay there.

            Tears streak down my cheeks.

            Seen through tears my new foot seems softer,

            my five stiff toes blurred at the edges.


Akka stretches her arms out toward me.

            And I realize

            she’s showing me I’m strong enough to reenter the pit of despair

            because she wants to help me

            climb all the way out.





DRAGONS

and

GECKOS





Govinda is waiting for me

            on the empty stage under the banyan tree.