Spinning in Circles

I've been taking a class lately on staff-spinning. I hear that it's vaugely Polynesian. It's related to poi-spinning but with a staff. In other words, the staff dancer lights both ends of a large staff and, to the throbbing beat of trance techno music, spins intricate and beautiful patterns in the dark.

I've just started so I'm not lightning anything on fire just yet. Strangely, I have an affinity for the staff, having gotten one as a teenager and spun away for hours and hours on end in the backyard. More recently, I've studied "bong sparring", which has nothing to do with cannabis. Something about using the staff really feels right to me, feels very comfortable and natural.

So I decided to take this class, to explore it a little deeper and learn some new moves. But that's not all that's happening. This is rocking my world.

When the music starts and the staff spins effortlessly in my hands, circling in front of me, behind me, all around me at blistering speeds, I've started to feel transported. The music pulses through me. The staff begins to spin itself, with me gently guiding the energy like a flowing stream of water. It moves around me. My body flows with it. We become a rapturous dance, stepping aside from time and space and simply existing in The Moment.

How is it that something so simple as spinning a staff can produce such heightened blissful states of consciousness? A lot of people take drugs to feel this way. Something I used to do in the backyard for fun has turned into this ecstatic dance. And I've only begun dipping my toe in the pool.

There exists a level of consciousness that transcends this "reality". Perhaps it's just a step to the left, floating just outside the corner of our vision. Many cultures, many paths, have explored this state throughout the history of humanity. Processes have become codified into religion. Then religion becomes the end unto itself, losing sight of the original goal - a transcendent state of being.

It's hard to describe, but those who've experienced it (and there are millions in the world) know exactly what I'm talking about. It's a special place, a rabbit hole. You can find it through prayer, through meditation, or, as most people in America, simply engaging in a Passion. Ask any athlete about The Zone. Ask any painter or dancer who creates from the deepest part of their soul. They know what it's about.

This is a place that can be reached by anyone, through anything. I've experienced it while singing onstage, while dancing at a nightclub, while sparring in the dojang. And lately, I've experienced it by simply spinning a staff. Feeling the music. Allowing my body to be swept up in the flow.

What takes YOU to that place?

Speaking of courage...

As one of the "Two Cents" contributors to the SF Chronicle, I get a couple of questions every week for "man on the street" commentary. A couple of days ago, I got the following question:

"When was the last time you had to be brave?"

Normally, I rattle off a highly quotable answer. But this one stumped me. At first, I thought about my martial arts training. It takes a certain courage to smash my hand through a stack of bricks or to spar with a black belt for whom "light contact" means sending me flying 5 feet instead of 10. Then I thought about the Reiki meeting I organized, which didn't actually involve a lot of effort OR courage, but still sort of terrified me in the way giving a toast terrifies nerds.

But then I thought about war, about US and Iraqi fighters both facing a deadly unknown - each other. I thought about peace protesters risking life, limb, and liberty against jittery riot police. I thought about heroes who run into burning buildings to save someone or stand up to an aggressor or even donate a kidney.

What exactly does it mean to be brave? I've never risked my life in an act of courage. Is that what it means to be brave? I don't know.

I ended up giving a very non-quote-worthy answer about how I try to break through my own fears every day, but I've never risked my life. Perhaps we have degrees of courage. Some sit in front of the tv all night, work in a cube all day, living quiet, desperate lives, insulated from fear by pork rinds and pizza. Some make courage such an assumed part of their lives that they no longer think of it as an "act of".

And what of those for whom bravery is a self-indulgence, whose acts of courage extend only to the salvation of their own lives? I think of thrill-seekers who may or may not consider risking their lives for a cause greater than an adrenaline rush. But I realize that's a reflection - in all the small victories I engage in, the daily confrontation with my own shadows, the only person I'm saving is me. Moi. Justin. Myself. That's it - no burning buildings, no small children playing in traffic.

Perhaps courage is a habit, to be conditioned through persistent exercise. I do believe that my own breakthroughs, large and small, habitualize courage. That doesn't make them any easier. I have a non-existent novel to demonstrate that, along with several unpublished short stories and essays and a half-written screenplay. But I feel as if my own journey is leading up to something. I don't know what. Perhaps someday I'll be called upon. I'd like to think that when the time comes, my experiences of facing down fear will play a part in my future success.

So in answer to the question "When was the last time you had to be brave?" I could say I haven't, yet. Or I could say just today, in a writing class, when one of the world's greatest fantasy authors ripped my story to shreds in front of everyone and I took it all in without crying.

Or I could say just say this morning, when I bloody got out of bed.

Reiki Meeting #1

Shortly after getting back from Burning Man, I decided to look up Reiki on meetup.com. I found a defunct San Francisco group and signed up. As I did, I saw a notice that said "This group needs an Organizer."

"Pshaw," I thought to myself. "I'm no organizer." But as I wandered through the site, it kept coming up, like an appeal or persistent demand. I felt opportunity tapping me on the shoulder, looking down at me as if I knew damn well what I should be doing. Holding my breath, I clicked the link. I became Justin, The Organizer.

Last Wednesday we had our first meeting - I would rate it a smashing success. 6 other people showed up (all women - what is it about Reiki and women?) and though everyone seemed a little uncomfortable at first, most of us were hugging each other by the end.

Our opportunities seem to come when we're looking just to the side. But we have all these chances every day to make some small impact, a positive ripple on the pond of reality. We're planning on another meeting, perhaps some group Reiki by the ocean. Maybe this group will evolve and grow. Maybe not. But for a few hours last week, several people opened up and connected heart-to-heart, shared very personal experiences about the miracle of Reiki, and came away feeling better about life. If a single click can create these ripples, imagine what a true act of courage might effect.