Living life is like opening of the locks of a dam. All the waves of life that flow in and out merrily or sadly down the stream or upstream is your life as you live it. All is good life even when you name it sad or ill-advised.
You are mobile, in any case, not inert. Alive, your Soul and body and all that you identify as yourself are alive. Your body, even in a coma, is alive. Your soul is alive regardless of where your body is or what it is doing, high on the town or in a grave. You, the Essence of You, never once stop high-stepping. Be joyous at being alive in life. Do somersaults and the merengue. Change your glasses, and you will see farther away. Or take off your glasses that constrain your vision. Close-up or down the road, you will see more clearly. Your sight is beyond your eye-sight. The physical is a mere adaptation of that which is greater than the physical.
There is nothing that blocks your vision except the set of your eyes. You can see beyond your sight. The blind can see with their inner vision. You can see with touch. Taste can transport you. The sense of smell can allure you. You can hear music beyond the senses and beyond the spheres. You will come to allow this.
What do you focus on? Why, this is your life. Your life is beckoning you. It is beckoning you now. Your life has its own birdsong. Life whisks you through the Universe and through all Eternity. The Song of Life invites you. It grabs you by the hand and twirls you like a ballerina on top of a music box. This is a spinning world you live in. Spin, spin, goes the world. Faster and faster, higher and higher, until you are inside out and outside in. You lift the edge of your skirt and swirl goes your skirt, and swish goes your skirt as you dance all day and all night.
And now you are an acrobat and a jumping jack and a baby in a cradle rocked by your mother’s foot. There is nothing but joy, and there is nothing but magic and mystery and mist and a hand holding another’s hand. Who invented dances? What first made music but sticks? Who first blew into a reed? Who put holes into the reed and named it a flute? Who first twisted to the left, and who first twisted to the right, and who first said this is a two-step, and who first stepped on someone’s toe, and nothing was made of it because this was dance. Who first worshipped God with a tom-tom and the beat of feet, all in a glorious clamor called dance? Who first matched the beat of his heart to music and combined the Universe in magic and moved hearts to joy?
Look what music did. Look what dance did. Music and dance called to all the hearts who moved to the beat of God, in worship of God primitively and wholly and Holy.
Who first was lifted up and swung in the air? Who first sat down and watched dancers dance? Who first heard notes of exultation in his throat and named notes the way the alphabet was named, high notes and low notes and half notes and and and and until music sang itself and danced itself and hugged itself and flew itself over the mountains and the sky and made music in the spheres and bowed to itself?
More instruments were born. Music went to town, and dance was the music of life and never stopped, so wondrous it was, so merry-making, and everything became a testament to God in the Highest as music was exaltation, and everyone knew it and slapped their thighs and wore music-making bangles, and throats sang out Hallelujah to the tune of God’s love.
And, so, dance and music were born as One, and God’s Glory was known all over the Earth.