I’d seen him for a couple of weeks, slowly walking behind a young beautiful blindfolded woman, giving her steady and gentle instructions, or sitting next to another young woman in a café, setting up a video for her to watch as he sat quietly and attentively next to her. One time I saw him in the mountains encouraging the two women he was with to pick up trash, as he gave a sermon.
He had the look and feel of a guru; deep, dark mystical eyes that revealed an ocean of empathy and compassion, slow reverent movements, and a muscular physique that could feel like home.
We had made eye contact a few times, complete with a slight Namaste bow. He was a pleasant sight to see coming towards me up the dirt road, until the monkeys came between us. There were five – two mammas and two babies. I stopped and must have looked afraid. He told me I should continue walking and face my fear. I told him I was fine right where I was. I would wait until they moved off the road.
He beckoned me again, telling me that fear was just an illusion and that I must break through it. I told him I had wisdom and I wasn’t going in between a momma and her baby. He continued to coax me with phrases like, “fear is a doorway”, “you must break through the doorway”, and “fear is never truth”.
When I was younger his beauty and the fact that he was a man might have swayed me. But I was a premenopausal woman who had experienced many beautiful men who did not necessarily consider my best intentions. I waited for the monkeys to pass.
Men and Women – 2
Settling into the wooden dance floor during the Butoh workshop, after we explored having the wind expand our wings and lift our feet, we were instructed to partner with someone. One person would be the earth and the other water. Elijah and I moved toward one another. His body was like a mountain, firm, solid, with a low center of gravity. Mine was like liquid fire.
We followed the instructions and I melted into his muscular frame, seeped into the curves and hollow spaces, flowed over his joints and in between his limbs. He began to follow my river, expanding his breath to gently lift my tide, exhaling and softening towards the floor. His structure spread to accommodate the effects of gravity on my body. My soft belly rested on the sturdy curve of his hip. My legs rippled over and under his, fingertips trickled down the small, vulnerable pool at the nape of his neck, as his supple, massive arm rested on my back, containing me.