🌗 The Divine Dance – Remembering the Balance

When the Masculine and Feminine Remember Each Other

Hold your fingers together.
Feel that?
That’s the masculine and feminine,
two parts of the one whole.
Balanced. In unity. In quiet knowing.

Now… slowly, pull your fingers apart.
Let one hand look at the other.

“Oh… look at you,
You have a ring on your finger.”

“And you, you have a scar on your palm.”

But even in difference, there is curiosity.
A smile.

“I like you, eh… You are me. Yet you are different. And I really like you.”

And when those fingers touch again,
Ah, there’s the spark.
Balance restored.
Union felt.

The perfect harmony between dark and light.
The Tao. The Yin and Yang. The breath between heartbeats.

Now… pull the fingers apart again.
But this time, go further.
Let one hand drift into the dark,
and the other into the light.

At first, they still love each other.
Still remember.
But distance does strange things.

One hand starts reaching,
not for union, but for more.
Gold. Power. Pleasure. Control. Destruction.
And still… more.
Always more.

But nothing satisfies.
Because they’ve forgotten.

Until,
a glimpse.
A child’s laugh.
A sunrise.
A pair of eyes that reflect the soul.

And suddenly, the hands remember.
They drift back to each other.
They touch.

Balance. Again.

Now let the light side drift far.
It sees beauty.
It sees kindness.
It sees love, and it wants more.
Jewels. Shiny things. Applause. Epic Love.
It chases the glow and forgets the flame.
And still… more.
Always more.

But again,
a whisper.
A story from childhood.
A nap beside your child.
A breeze in the trees.

And it returns.
To the touch.
To the dance.

This is the divine masculine and feminine.
Not man and woman,
but the sacred balance within all things.

And once we choose to dance together,
not in dominance, not in separation,
but in sacred rhythm,

then there is nothing else in the universe as magical.

We get to choose this.
We get to live here.

Because once we’ve truly seen the light,
we don’t need anything else.

We have the balance.
We nurture both sides equally.

And the dance…
begins again.

It is only in childhood that this dance plays out in perfect unison.

 But when one side is suppressed,
when the flame of the inner child is stifled or shamed,
the pendulum begins to swing.

And when it swings too far,
we call it confusion.
We call it extremism.
But truly, it is the wounded shadow
reaching for wholeness
without remembering what wholeness looks like.

This is how imbalance hides in plain sight.
How the world begins to forget the dance.
How fear demands conformity.
How pain tries to make the world just like it.

But the child remembers.
The spark still lives.
And the flame still flickers at the point of reunion.

All it takes…
is one sacred touch.