Meanwhile, out in Rumi’s field…

Dance like no-one is watching.
That’s what they say,
isn’t it?
When you’re afraid to let the true you out
to play? Dance like no-one is watching,
even if they are.
Even if they laugh at you.
Even if they try to shame you –
all the while their own desire trails
like an errant underskirt
below the hem of an otherwise respectable garment.
To break down,
break out,
break free…
the moment of possibility
pulses and wavers – a mirage that could
be made real
if only it were given credence.
The paradigm shift
to end all paradigm shifts.
The dance floor is yours.
Will you take to it?
Will you take to it and dance?
And if you do, will you do it
like no-one is watching? Or
will self-consciousness slip like a landslide
covering up all those parts of you that you believe to be
unacceptable
ridiculous
repulsive
pitiable
ugly.
The paradox to end all paradoxes is
that liberation lies
only in one direction –
and that is beyond.
Beyond. Beyond. Beyond.
So, dance like no-one is watching.
Even if they are.
Even if they laugh at you.
Even if they try to shame you –
all the while in their own hearts and minds
they know the only true shame
is in a life half-lived.
Dance, my love, dance.
Dance like no-one is watching.
Even if they are.