Skip to content

Hayy and After Hayy

We stood in a circle, holding hands, chanting “Hayy’. The chant was work, but work by a willing band of people knowing where we were going, willing to dissolve but stay with one another. The chant was a continual auditory negotiation, a choir tuning itself as energy burbled in flutes made of twelve sets of lungs, diaphragms, vocal chords, tongues, teeth, skulls. These flutes bellowed toward single sounded-ness. We struggled. I felt nauseous. I felt light-headed. We galloped in rhythm toward a central destination, tethered by what we heard. Simple. Sensitive. Challenging. It was not a given; it was striven for. The best, beautiful work. Ease doesn’t matter; what matters is twelve people trying together.

Afterward, standing so still.

In me, a certain, activated stillness, a holding-ness throughout my body, a taught sail bellied with wind. My mind pure black, my breath a flame steady in the lantern of me, Karuna’s hand in my left hand — my unconscious — and Krys’s hand in my right hand — my persona.  ‘No me’ flew, with two handmaidens, torpedo-ing through still space that is ‘no space’, no duration, no friction. My feet were open and solid, the arches banded. At the end of time.

Then a gentle stirring at the edge of the circle made me know it was the moment to squeeze the held hands, break the ring, and say “rest now’.

Share the movement...
    One Comment
    1. lovely….lantern in me….handmaidens….we’re Sufi handmaidens, aren’t we…..

      December 8, 2010

    Comments are closed.