The troops in Rio scattered as soon as we kissed our last pilgrim onto the plane. Isabel was eager to be with her sweetheart, a writer with a home just outside the city. Jorge was heading back to a sweet cottage he was renovating south of Rio near the Sitio des Pedras. Anahata and I hopped a plane for Belo Horizonte. Our one month travel tour of Brazil had begun.
We were met at the Belo Horizonte airport by the most adorable Helouisa and her friend Inez. Another darling woman, Anna, arrived just to give our luggage a ride. We stopped for tender coconut water and then drove about an hour out of the city. Belo Horizonte is nested in a mountainous area, surrounded by mines. Much of the deep purple amethyst of the world comes from this area.
We arrived at a charming retreat center in the middle of rolling hills, farm country. We were scheduled to lead a weekend called "Dance Your Heart Open". The circle was small but we had expected that. Just after Carnival people were recovering, both energetically and financially.
The woman who owned and managed the retreat center was adorable and mothered us in the most wonderful ways, especially with the food preparation and service. She told us she would serve the food in a different place each meal so we could get to know her gardens. The little round tables were covered with charming clothes and the food was fantastic.
We made good use of the hammock out side our bedroom and enjoyed our beginning relationship of teaching with Sabira. It was wonderful to have her translating for us. For the most part she was familiar with our material but was still gleaning information so she was always excited to see what would come next. She allowed the language to flow, retaining certain theatrical gestures that convey beyond the words, the excitement of the material.
The first dance circle on Friday evening was open to one night participants. We started our walk with six or seven people and then suddenly, the room was full of laughing chanting Brazilians, many who had met us on our first visit four years ago.
The next morning after a luscious tea break, we made a circle of cushions in one corner of the large teaching space. Holding hands we began the rocking of the "Waka" song, a Maori chant that kept the ocean traveling canoes on course. We sang with full voice for a verse and then held the melody with a gentle hum as each person told their, "story". The rocking punctuated whatever they wanted to share with us....the geography of their home, their hopes and dreams. The last two were a couple that were not staying in residence with us but had been for the Friday evening and returned after breakfast.
The woman began by taking us back to the grief of her childhood. Her embarrassments and fears, her challenges. It broke the group heart open. She had danced with us three years previously and it was the first time she felt given the permission to just dance, to dance for life, for all that is sacred. Sabira was in tears, translating for her.
The man followed with his aspiration to put all the parts of himself together.
Girlaine, a lovely young woman, told us that she had missed her ride but was so determined to join us that she walked the ten kilometers from town.
We knew then, no matter what the sacrifice, the efforts that we made to share our gifts were rewarded. We are continually reminded that our simple dances and songs, our commitment to our spiritual journey, the depth of our capability to share makes a difference.
With hearts overflowing with gratitude
We send all our beloveds,
Much love,
Prema and Anahata
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8 Bela Horizonte
