Dancing Shiva — Writing My World

I have always been fascinated by this tree perched precariously on the edge of our property overlooking Savage Gulf. The limbs seem to sway gracefully as if in a silent dance. It reminded me of “Dancing Shiva” the Hindu god my yoga teacher would reference when she wanted us to sway and loosen our limbs before class. So I named this tree, “Dancing Shiva.”

Interestingly, Shiva’s roles in the Hindu faith are contradictory. He is seen as the “great aesthetic” and the “master of fertility.” Just as oddly, he is also the master of medicine and poison. Perhaps that is why recently, I no longer saw Dancing Shiva as graceful. Suddenly, our tree seemed full of contradictions, too.

It had been well over a month since I had been on the plateau. A fall resulting in a fractured pelvis kept me homebound in Franklin for weeks on end. I stared at this bare tree after our long absence and felt a difference. The limbs no longer swayed in a gentle dance but appeared erratic. Its misshaped branches mimicked the flailing arms of a cartoon character as it falls off a cliff. Dancing Shiva no longer danced, but reminded me of my own fall.

Today I was outside aimlessly picking up sticks from a recent storm. I was enjoying walking without my cane for a bit and stopped to gaze at our Dancing Shiva. Once again it seemed quiet and graceful. It’s limbs no longer in a frenzied fall but gently uplifted. I noted that today’s light breezes and the recent high winds sail through these undulating limbs with equal ease. Yet, one still sees signs of past struggle in those huge branches and jagged stubs. The abrupt turns and twists tell me life hasn’t been easy for Shiva up here on the plateau. However today it is bending, flowing, and surviving…a testimony to patience, strength, and luck I suppose.

As I write this, I wonder now if our old tree isn’t trying to teach me something as I heal. Maybe I, too, can learn to carry the contradictions that life so often throws our way. I can fall but also allow myself to be carried by friends and family. I can be terrified but braver than I ever thought I could be. I can be totally dependent on others and then gradually find my footing again. Nothing is permanent. When I grasp this impermanence I, too, can swing and sway with the winds as Shiva does. Oddly it is this recognition of worldly impermanence that reminds me again of God’s permanent and everlasting grace. It is the one thing I hold onto in this ever changing world.