The Scene: Day Two of Dance Camp at Vida Asana in Playa, Hermosa Costa Rica. 18 women come together to fulfill Dancer Dreams for one New Moon Cycle. First Ecstatic Dance Session. The Headspace: free flowing dance expression...weighed down only by heavy hair and insecurity. Wondering: how can I make myself sexy with short hair? Scheming to cut off dreads and still have long hair...then I hear: Fuck all that. I am free besides my hair. Why am I holding onto it? It's time! The time is now, the Universe is screaming at me. "oh, I can cut them off after this dance session," I respond internally... my self talk says "I don't want to disturb the space or others' process..." Fuck that and listen! The time is NOW! Running, barefoot to my room, grab the scissors, out my logical mind, staying in the ecstasy of Dance Devotion, feeling my Ka, my Energy Body move for me. Grab Mary too from my altar, my Coral manifestation of the Goddess from the Caribbean Sea, to hold space for me. Back at the Shala, scissors and Mary casually placed by the mirror, I try to dance to recenter but then realize I am already in the zone and need to CUT before dancing more. I sit down in front of the mirror, next to Lila. I never thought I would do this in front of a mirror. I envisioned a mountain top. With a knife. Solitude. But this. This is the the place. At first it is as if nothing is happening. Lila sees me in front of the mirror and thinks "Oh, what a good idea. Practicing Radical Self Love in the mirror." She sits up to reflect, in the mirror, what she thinks I am also doing, which, actually, I am: practicing Radical Self Love and Acceptance. But when she sits up she realizes something is happening. She begins to wordlessly hold space, and I feel her strength with wordless gratitude. She is breathing for me as I move without time to hesitate or think. Chop. That simple. Off they are going. And I feel like, Oh, this is no big deal. No one is even noticing, save for Lila. Then the energy starts to shift. The lyrics to the next song begin "it's time to cut your roots." Other dancers start to squeal, grab their cameras, witness the release. Cries of encouragement. Real tears flowing from women I've just met yesterday. With the community, I begin to cry. I continue, snip, chop, no hesitation. I come towards the last few dreads at the bottom and hesitate. Lila feels it and waits, then breathes, even deeper as I internally say "Fuck it! Of course I'm chopping them all off." I hold all of the dreadlocks in my hands, all of the hair my head and neck and energetic space that I've carried for at least the past 5 years, 3 1/2 of which in dreadlocks, and I shake and cry violently into them, compulsively, uncontrollably, without option to hold back, imbuing them with all that I've loved and hated and come to accept while they were part of me. I release. Then, I unceremoniously set them aside and DANCE! And BE! Actually before I can even begin to dance I am surrounded by a group hug of 16 women, all of them thanking me and me thanking them. Jen says "Gracias por tu valor." Thank you for your courage. I thank the Earth, and lay on the floor, feeling beautiful and free. Not needing the automatic movement of my hand behind my neck, clearing a space for my scalp to lay flat against the floor. I am clear. I do not feel a headache or tiredness behind the eyes that often comes when I cry. It was pure release. I feel completely new, light, absolutely no regret. The process is complete. Nearly. After dancing without the weight of years, of hair, of gunk accumulated and carried on my head, I harvest four Hibiscus flowers. To honor Kali, Goddess of Destruction of Illusion. To me the four flowers represent Wealth, Beauty, Sexuality, and Spiritual Liberation. I bike them and the dreadlocks to the ocean, Playa Hermosa, to Madre Mar, with Lila and Diyana.
There the tide is the strongest I have every experienced, even four months in to traveling many coasts in Central America. I dive in and am knocked and tumbled, and release the locks with a prayer to Yemanja, prayers to release the old, prayers of gratitude for this path that started at Earth Mountain, and prayers for the New. I released them with my Mama rock, one she harvested on the same coast but nearly indescribably further North, on the shores of a Washington island, praying that she too experiences liberation in the way that best serves her. And gone they are! And here I am. And in two days, while some dancers are getting chatted up by a surfer dude on the beach, he sees a detached dreadlock on the sand and exlcaims in surprise and disgust! And the dancers laugh, and claim me as their own, unashamed. I am Isis. I am the Cosmic Mother. I am Beautiful. I am Free. I am Myself. I am Grateful. I am IN LOVE WITH LIFE! And I share this with you.
