Why dream? Why dance? Why create?

When many of us speak of compassion, we mistakenly believe compassion is the work of helping others less fortunate than we are -- the homeless woman on the street, the child in trouble, the third-world country on the brink of collapse. It is true we need to help others and the essence of helping others is to be there for them without shutting down in horror, anger, or fear.

But many of us raised in established religious institutions failed to learn how to have compassion for ourselves. Eventually we learn the hard way that we can't really be there for others in an honest way unless we've learned to be with ourselves. It's easy to be compassionate for ourselves when we feel as if we are right, strong, when lots of people agree with us. It's not so easy when we are wrong, outcast, and filled with fear. That's when we turn our face away from our soul. It's no surprise that the soul feels insulted. If you want to be creative and compassionate, notice when your soul is insulted.

Dreams show us the truth -- we are right and wrong, we are good and evil, we are alone and we are connected. They teach us how to hold the tension within ourselves and find a middle way. Many of the dreams show problems we all have: dreams of lost keys, houses on fire, going down into tunnels to find something, showing up naked for a final exam, being chased by a monster or a rapist, dreams of flying through the air with the greatest of ease, or of swimming with dolphins. A dream is a message from a deeper part of yourself. They show us where we've been and where we are going. They invite is to feel what we feel. Listening to them is a way to connect with compassion.

So is finding open, nonjudgmental spaces where we can acknowledge what we are feeling without hurting ourselves or others. Dance can be such a space because moving physically offers relief from the same old mental high-jinks we live with day by day, that tired mental reality. When we dance, we allow ourselves to feel aspects of ourselves that we don't like (meeting other people's gaze, the anger that rises from imperfection, the discomfort from learning new skills) without pulling back.

Often at the end of a Nia class or at the end of my day, I ask two questions: What is it I most desire? What is it I desire to create? Figuring out what I need isn't easy for me. I have to work at it. Even if I identify what I desire, it's not enough. I have to use that knowledge as a way to honestly relate to others. I do this in my life as a writer. But as the video link below shows, any creative process is a practice of compassionate action.

Watch how closely the artist looks at the dancers. She never drops her gaze. This is compassion for herself and others in action:


http://vimeo.com/49045800