I just had the most beautiful dance to the heart chakra. Let me try to find the words to describe it.
It actually began before the heart chakra – in our abbreviated dance through all the chakras. In the third-eye chakra, I began to see dancing pretzels. They danced on an earth of cotton candy, surrounded by snow that fell as popcorn. There among them was the pink elephant who could fly. At times, I was but a feather flying and tickling these dancing pretzels, making them laugh, making the pink elephant who could fly sneeze.
This picked up into the heart chakra dance, and I was narrating everything I was seeing in a soft voice as I saw it. There were the dancing pretzels, sometimes dancing like the Rockettes, sometimes just holding hands in a circle. There was the pink elephant who could fly. The falling popcorn. The cotton candy fields. Candy apple trees. There too was I, now not a feather, but just myself, dancing like a bird, sometimes grabbing a pretzel for a twirl.
Then, I saw a woman in an emerald green dress. I know who she is, but I will not share. I walked over to her, and I asked her if I might have this dance. And she said yes, and we danced a beautiful dance on cotton candy dance floors in and around dancing pretzels as a flying pink elephant smiled over us. But we did not simply dance – she and I – we then looked out of our circle. We grabbed homeless people, we wheeled in people who could not use their legs, we brought in the forgotten, and came in with a cart of misfit toys. We all danced together – us and these misfits and the woman in green who will not be revealed – and in the middle was the pink elephant who could fly showered with love.
Then, I saw my son – my beautiful River. And he brought in his misfit friends. And they danced with pretzels. The popcorn began to smile, and I turned back to feather form, tickling and making people laugh, and then me again. I’m narrating out loud everything I’m sharing here, and I’m narrating that I’m narrating.
The scene changes. I’m now in the Norris Geyser Basin in Yellowstone National Park, at the very spot of my first kiss. I’m with the woman in emerald green, and we look into each other’s eyes, still in a swaying dancing way. But then we look out at the beauty before us. We open up our arms to it and invite it into us. This is not the love of a selfish couple, a romance only for the two, the first kiss of a boy who didn’t really know how to kiss. This is an openness to the world, a love for all that’s in it. And so came the elk, and so came the buffalo, and so came the wolf and the coyote and the fox, and so came the moose, and so came the grizzly bear and the black bear, and so came the beaver, and so came the pine trees and the fir, and so erupted the geysers all around us, and there too came the dancing pretzels, and the pink elephant who could fly was smiling down on us, and all the people who have been forgotten were there with us.
And then came my son – my dear River. And he runs into my arms, and he says, “I love you, Daddy. Are you having a nice day?” – he says that nearly every time I see him. And I cry – and I’m really crying (I’m crying now writing this) – “The best day … the best day of my life.” And we hold each other, and we cry, and the world dances around us, first the lady in green, and around her the dancing pretzels, and around them geysers and animals and pink elephants who can fly in a sky of snow and falling popcorn.
The love I feel right now is tremendous. I ended by wanting you all to join this scene and dance with us. This world is for you; this dance is for you. You are invited into my heart, into the strange curiosities of my mind, into the silliness, into the light touch of a feather, into a world where pretzels dance in a field of geysers, in a place I call Venus on Earth. You are always welcome in my home, in my dance, into my surrealism.
And like an old movie, we bowed as the curtain closed – the last thing you see is a dancing pretzel and the hint of a pink elephant ear. And, closing credits.