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Solitary Dance

By Tiana Pomaybo on May 1, 2024

Prompted by a trusted mentor, guest blogger Tiana discovered her giftedness after facing challenges fitting in. Finding solace in communities like Bloomers, she connected with kindred spirits, fostering a sense of belonging. After 15 years of guiding entrepreneurs, she realizes her true passion aims towards psychology, writing, spirituality, and helping others find transcendent meaning.


Solitary Dance


I find myself growing weary... weary of beholding the world any longer through the lens of my once lofty ideals. Now, I yearn not only for the profane, but also the profound spectacle of witnessing the universe play and dance in its evolution... the genuine... the tragic... the imperfect, and the abysmal, all so that I may apprehend its essence in truth. I crave an exploration of its creation through others - with its flaws, its rhythm, its chaos, and its perfect patterns to discern the core of its being, to perceive its light and its darkness as they merge into one intricate dance of colors and swirls of energetic, conscious, and material creation.


What is this essence? Who are they, these fellow travelers upon the winding paths of existence? What purpose lies within this intricate dance of creation? Why do I find myself enveloped in sense of wonder? Yet, when I extend my hand to explore the inner landscapes of others, why am I met with rejection, as if their very essence is flawed? We find it uncomfortable or unnecessary to delve too deeply into such mysteries, or to restrain the senses or innate faculties from probing realms unseen by the eye, unheard by the ear, and uncharted by the human heart. To me, it is these vulnerable fragments that reveal the intrinsic true beauty. The parts that ache, that yearn for depth and authenticity, that blossom and grow. These fragments lament their existence in a world that fails to perceive their entirety, their dreams, their beingness in the world, and their metamorphosis along the journey of life.


To behold you is to perceive the intricate complexity of the universe, its awe-invoking depth, its ceaseless movement, its harmonious dance, its melodious song. Could it be that amidst your scars and sorrows, I seek to glimpse my own reflection, embarking on a pilgrimage toward the sanctified resurrection of our souls? Is it that I yearn for a requiem that resonates with unity, even in the darkest depths of night? Is it that I am driven by an insatiable longing to unearth the sacred spark within, to discern the presence of the divine beneath the surface of mortal existence, all in pursuit of finding meaning in this vast and enigmatic cosmos? 


To comprehend you is to grasp the very essence of the world itself. It's not mere understanding I yearn for, but a merging with the infinite expanse of existence, to encompass all knowledge and being simultaneously. My heart aches to transcend the confines of the material realm, to traverse into a realm where limitations dissolve, where we can metamorphose, evolve, and merge seamlessly with our visions, intertwining with other energies in a symphony of existence. In this boundless realm, I seek not just understanding but a deep, soulful connection with the very fabric of existence itself, to flow through all things, express through all things, embracing the entirety of existence with all its beauty and complexity.


And why? Why do I pursue those who flee, who conceal, who detest their vulnerability? Why am I drawn to explore their depths above all? Is it because I seek to unearth their humanity and suffering, in hopes of uncovering my own? Why? Why do I hunger for their authenticity? Is it because I cannot find my own? Deliberately, I seek that which binds us eternally, so as to evade the anguish of separation. So as not to endure solitude. So that they may see me, and I, them. Not our bodies. Not our intellects. But the quintessence of our being. The individualized fragments of the One from which we emanate. To perceive the hues of their essence - to witness them in their full potency, in order to glimpse the divine itself.


And why? Why have we forgotten? Why do we feel so estranged from the source whence we came? Why does the world appear as disjointed as we now feel? Why have we all been forsaken in this obscurity and occulting? In the nebulous realm where we can but glimpse each other's silhouettes: Cloudy, murky, moving, dancing - alone silhouettes.

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