Doin’ da Dyin’ Dance
The Dyin’ Dance opens with Piano Opus Transitional Resistance Minor, a desperate hard-striking keys attempt to hold onto the many identities and attachments shoring up a life. These attachments foster a belief that fixing brokenness and problems and healing the wounded guarantees success. However, this approach suppresses feelings, and success becomes an act of thinking, not one of life. The pianist plays the clever, empty chord projection as a seductive jingle.
There are many forms of Dyin’. There is suppression of creativity and feelings until, finally, a deathly pall settles over the land, the lone saxophonist under the cement overpass wailing for the world to listen. Cancer and other diseases deal losing hands daily, while war and angry judgment smite death blows left and right. After Resistance comes Denial, orchestrated by a snare drum flurry of staying busy and in control. But Fear always prevails. When keeping on top of life means masking inner turmoil, Fear switches from Shadow Lurking to full-bore Taki Druming when the body is free to be one with all existence.
Loneliness is part of the Dyin’ Journey, but only because it’s always been there. Everyone is lonely for connection, love, and respect, but it wasn’t until I joined Doin’ da Dyin’ Dance that I learned to open up and allow this experience. That’s when I understood I’ve been dead all my life, as passed down through generations.
I value my many SurfaceWalkers, from Soldier Boy to Rebel, Young Creative to Entrepreneur, and now Old Man is responsible for Attachment Release.
People die young and old. We die mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. We all die.
