Act 14: Go to a Meet-up Where I Know No One

After this morning's misadventure, I was determined to not let this child-free weekend slip by without conquering at least one thing on my list. 

 I came back to the house and immediately started looking for a new Meet-up.  Martial arts?  Soon, but not yet.  Hiking?  Tempting, but I'd much rather take a nap.  After a thorough search (and by thorough, I mean scanning for meet-ups that were happening today within a 15 mile radius), I landed on something that sounded intriguing:  Triangle Dances of Universal Peace.

Hmmm...  

Now I admit, I signed up for this meet-up mainly because there were only 12 people who had RSVPed and they were all women.  Reading the description, they sounded like a nice, inviting, non-judgmental group, so I signed up, and went to take my nap.

As the time drew near, I had to figure out what one wears to a dance of universal peace?  Is it like contra dancing?  Yoga?  Who knows!?  Judging

For dancing, a swishy skirt is a must.

from the description, it seemed pretty New Age-y.  After living in Asheville for 3 years,  I was somewhat familiar with the new age uniform  (long skirt, layered tops, thick socks, clogs, long necklace), so I went for something in that vein.  (Thanks to Melissa N. for helping me hash out the wardrobe issues.)


I pulled up at the Durham Friends Meeting House with trepidation.  There were a few cars parked on the street, but the building was dark.  Where was everyone?  I walked around the side of the building and saw a cheerfully lit social hall.  Apparently, I was in the right place.  I was resolute, given the experience of the morning, but still nervous at walking in to a strange place full of strange people.  I needn't have worried.

When I arrived, the group was cleaning up after a potluck dinner, and the ladies who were buzzing around the kitchen greeted me warmly.  There was a group of about 30 people - men and women of all ages - milling around, finishing dinner.  I saw two women about my age sitting on the periphery and asked if I could join them.  They were gracious and kind, also relatively new to the group, and happy to chat for a bit.

Soon the tables were cleared and musicians - two guitarists, a cellist, a drummer - sat in the middle of the room.  All the participants gathered in a circle around them and simply began to walk - slowly and quietly - in a circle around the musicians.  It was quite something to be in a group of what was now 40+ people, and have them almost instantly go silent.  The dance leader led us in a guided imagery - reminding us that humans had been walking in packs and tribes, together since the beginning of our existence.  There definitely was a palpable energy in the room as we all moved around - separately and together.

After a few moments of this, we came back to a circle and each person gave their name.  After introductions, the dancing began.

The songs were simple - usually built around a brief chant or phrase from Hebrew, Hindi or Arabic. The dances were also relatively simple.  We did two variations of a hora and even a partner dance.  The dances were in turn meditative and joyful, raucous and somber.  Each dance was punctuated by a moment of silence, intended to give all participants an opportunity to reflect on the effects the movement had.  There were interludes when we were asked to be seated while a participant read short poems from the Sufi poet, Rumi and other spiritual writers.  (Rumi happens to be one of my favorites, and I was delighted to hear some new selections.)  And after each reading, we were again given time to think and reflect on the meaning of the words.

As the evening wound down, one of the leaders told the story of a vision she had as she searched for the Divine Goddess, Hokmah.  That seemed like a good time to make my exit, so as the group danced slowly around the room, I made my way to the door and slipped out into the night.

As I walked back to my car, I did feel peaceful.  It was quite a wonderful feeling to know that while I didn't ascribe to the beliefs and attitudes on the group, they still welcomed me to spend some time with them.  And I found that my thoughts were much less snarky and smug that they usually are.  Perhaps my time there did open my heart?  At any rate, it was an evening well spent.

In the end, this act of courage was less about going somewhere unfamiliar and more about being open to a different way of seeing, thinking, and being in a non-judgmental way.  As I drove home, I found myself feeling thankful for the morning's failure, because it led me to this community I doubt I would have found otherwise.

Things don't have to be perfect to be meaningful.  As Rumi says, "Take sips of this pure wine being poured, even though you've been given a dirty cup." 

 Someone, please pass that bottle.  I am ready to drink deeply.