Whirling Like A Dervish

let's dance!
Originally uploaded by tinou bao

This weekend I sat in the comforting darkness of a theatre in downtown Toronto, watching whirling dervishes spin and spin and spin.

The pair were a father-daughter duo. She wore a white dress with a full skirt covered in mirrored beading. He wore red and black, and his cloak flared up as he spun, suspended in the air around him.

For twenty minutes I watched them spin like planets in orbit. I listened to the shuffle of their feet on the stage beneath swelling music, mesmerized.

It made me think about the orbit of my own life these past two weeks: Packing up, driving for days, arriving at my destination only to continue spinning (flailing?) toward some semblance of order and stability. My mind has been swimming, full of details to the point of blankness.

The whirling dervishes are followers of the sufi poet Rumi who, reportedly, stopped in the market one day entranced by the rhythmic hammering of goldbeaters. It is believed that he heard "la elaha ella'llah" in the sound - "no god, but God" - and was so elated that he threw up his arms and began to spin in a circle. Thus, the Mevlevi dervishes were born.

In the theatre, I was overcome by a sensation of peace as I watched them spin. They were surrendering control, throwing their arms skyward in joyful love of God.

So, even though the spinning in my life right now seems much less graceful, I'm going to try to do the same.