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Same Ol' Song and Dance

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Three stories are blended here. My own. And stories told by Vandana Shiva, about reforesting women in Central India, and  a story about a Native American pledge of gratitude in North America, as told by Robin Wall Kimmerer.

As I look back across more musical times of rhythmic reflections, ceremonies and commemorations of each dawn and dusk eremitic liturgy, if that is not an oxymoron of sound and sight, song and dance, tragically sad, yet also bilaterally bound with happier chance of liturgical comedies reflected upon together. And as we look out through all our co-diva taoist days like pages of leaves we have co-written, we grow one primordial Tipping Point, that we are each both tragic and most abundantly comedic when held together through mutually revolutionary Bodhisattva Warrior eco/ego-identity. And, with our ends held together, what matters most to and for and of all of us, is when we have fed tragic and where we have bled comedic into the transparently naked (0)Remainder WinWin Othernest as soon as therapeutically possible. When was the last time you turned to whomever, always present, sitting next to your Leftsaid, with at least one exclamation point, That was totally Yang-awesome! It might have been at the end of a song heard for the first time in a particularly deep and rich, and possibly a bit also high, way. Or maybe during a dance that was totally radical, perfect to each beat each lyrical swell and ebb filled with athletic grace of freakishly limber space and centered like a linear 4D pivot we each potentially arcingly are as we become this music's dancing story, beautifully exquisitely reincarnating us down into your stage of life's most recent crippling bow, with tragicomedy final statement, tragedy of each end with comedy of wonder for each protagonist opera in which our only antagonist was perfect meeting of lyrically rhythmicizing here with timeless now's completely committed integrity of ego/eco-consciousness reweaving Personal tragedy of missed integrity close to further comedies of dissonant clumsiness, stumbles of feet and hands and mind and pens about dancing through life and death ourselves as totally awesome tragic-comedic ecopolitical choreography with public sector lyrics for what started out as a deeply personal intimate vulnerable liturgicalizing matriarchal-wombed life. Or maybe Wow! was when you were leaving church, and mosque and temple and synagogue and generic everyday BusinessAsUsual faith family, smiling about how to better dance our mutual resonant opportunities, to feed the juice and starve monoculturing weeds. Wow! Totally awesome love, grace, synergy, creolization Thanks for singing and dancing and taking us to church with you, where we each belong multiculturally YangHere with YinNow bilateral balancing and limber spiraling together. I awaken to both the parent of special ecopolitical needs and ecological opportunities, but also the part-time Taoist hermit diva, totally co-investing in WinWin liturgical planning each multiculturing day within dawnspace harmonic singing Yang through Yin dualdark co-arising lyrics with Bodhisattva EcoFeminist Warriors, First Native International Cooperative Networks each ego-anonymous collegially remembering co-protagonists of Earth's tragicomedic multiculturing sad despair with silent democratic solidarity, liturgically ecological patriot matriotic YangSong with WinWin dance, here and also now (0)Soul rhythms of long slow stealthy blues as also green balancing creolic outgoing choreography. Antagonizing local people about their malingering protagonist rights, their song as dance resources, and their musically harmonic personal knowledge, does not patriotically rest unchallenged. Forests struggle to continue to resist buying and selling and renting of other protagonist song and dance forests, including rewoven stories internal to, yet not in, Asia alone. Forest resacralizations resist secularizing diminishment of forests for tragic exploitation by patriarchalYang commodifying not (0)-interest profits, and dipolar co-gravitating transubstantiation from liturgically abundant ecological resources for tragic song and comedic dance back into a bad faith commodifying community. Villagers sang and danced our tragic removal demotion of rich ecoforests to mere positive productions from notnot negatively dwindling reserves asserting ego/eco-justice rights to satisfy our basic continuing together needs and wants. Feeding critical tragedy for underdog lyrics while bleeding sad danced systematic allegiances against monocultural demands for fake-patriotistic choreographed events, non-violent protests were crushed by One Nation Don't Mean First Nation, cause I wasn't born yesterday or the day before that, or before doing a really great job of making more money for some really good people who just got caught up in the right place in my best time Trump, among the USA evangelical faithful; crushed by economies of WinLose colonialism, among Central Asian Bodhisattva ReForesters and Eastern American First Nation PreForesters. In the Himalayan mountain bioregion the Chipko women's movement began liturgically embracing living MotherTrees as their protectors, their own source of food and fuel and fiber and fertile habitat. The Onandaga First Nation School reimagined how children might non-violently speak and move their dawn liturgies to remember alleged thanksgivings for MotherTrees, their hugs hugging ours in music and danced liturgies of Earth-allegiance gratitude, basic positive cooperative matriarchal song and dance with Tipping Points of taoist divas dipolar co-arising (0)-soul long slower bluesy terms of jazz rhythmic creolizing song as dancing attitude. As I look back across more musical times of rhythmic reflection, allegiance ceremonies and gratitude commemorations of each dawn and dusk danced liturgy, I look forward too.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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