Except from Gabrielle Roth’s “Sweat Your Prayers”

March 25, 2011

Rhythm is our mother tongue.  As I have surrendered to the wild, ecstatic embrace of the dance, I’ve found a language of patterns I can trust to deliver us into universal truths, truths older than time.  In the rhythm of the body we can trace our holiness, roots that go all the way back to zero.  States of being where all identities dissolve into an eternal flow of energy.

Energy moves in waves.  Waves move in patterns.  Patterns move in rhythms.  A human being is just that, energy, waves, patterns, rhythms.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.  A dance.


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