Chapter 5
Meeting the Bushmen
When it dawned on me that I was being taught by dreams, my life changed dramatically. I organized my schedule according to the directions I received in visionary states. They took me to various American Indian elders and to an inner city African American church. The dreams also called for me to travel to faraway cultures and meet elders who practiced shamanic ways.
From age 19, when I had that first rapturous awakening , I wondered whether there were others having the same experience. It was reassuring to find the yoga traditions that accessed what they called kundalini energy, which felt familiar, but wasn’t quite the same. I never meditated or had a spiritual teacher who gave instructions about moving the inner life force--after being hit with spiritual lightning, that just happened automatically. I also discovered this shaking and vibrating experience could be passed on to others, like a game of spiritual tag.
In 1990 I saw a documentary film about the Bushman healing dance, by John Marshall. I immediately recognized familiar territory: I watched people shaking and passing the ecstatic body trembling on to one another. The oldest living culture’s ecstatic expressions were readily identifiable to me; they were all part of my experience. I had been practicing a similar form of vibrant touch and ecstatic encounter as the Bushmen.
As we set up our tents, my university colleague, Peter, reminded me to be on the lookout for wildlife. “We might see some giraffe, cheetah, kudu, honey badger, leopard, or a lion.” I looked up and instead I saw a thin man walking toward me. He was wearing an olive colored work shirt and had three deep wrinkles etched into his forehead and a circle that outlined his nose and chin when he smiled. “I am Twele. I am here to be your guide. You can ask me anything about our culture because the shamans said you were one of them.” I had dreamed of Twele’s company. With great excitement, I clapped my hands and hugged him. We both began shaking. Then I said, “Let’s get started. Please tell me what you experience when you are in the dance.” Happy to meet a white man who could communicate through his body, through shaking, their most intimate mode of expression, Twele began talking.
“For me, it is a very special time. I love to dance. It is the favorite thing for all Bushmen to do. We dance when we are happy and we dance when we are sad. When we get ready to hunt, we dance because it helps us find the animal and then after the kill, we bring home the meat and dance again. We also dance when we feel sick. It helps us take away the sickness and it keeps us well. The dance is the most important aspect of our lives. It is our prayer, our medicine, our teaching, and our way of having fun. Everything we do is related to that dance.
“For shamans, the dance helps them feel the power that causes the shaking. We see that you already understand this. For me, I feel my hands getting very hot when I touch others in the dance. When the people sing loudly and I dance, the power comes into my feet. It is the power from the music and the seriousness of the occasion that makes me very hot. It comes into my head and I feel it as a kind of steam that makes my head feel larger. A light then comes over the dance. My body also seems to become lighter in weight and I feel like I am floating over the ground. It will be good to dance with you tonight!”
As night appeared on the horizon, the community gathered to prepare for the dance. Twele told me that there were still herds of elands in the area, a very special animal for the Bushmen. While he was talking, I spotted an ostrich in the distance. A black-breasted snake eagle flew overhead. Branches gathered from nearby trees were brought to make a fire. The women arranged themselves in a circle to clap and start the songs. All of the community came to the dance, ready to put electricity in the air under a sky filled with gazing stars.
At first I stood outside the dance circle with Peter, who was unusually serious, not teasing as he had done so far throughout the trip. Peter was fully into the moment, and his silent presence encouraged me to jump right in. It only took a few minutes for me to feel the tingling in my legs. It felt as though sharp needles were being stuck into my calves and thighs. They twitched and jerked as the pricking gave way to the flow of an inner current. I told Peter, “I feel the electricity. Look at my legs.” He smiled and said, “Yes sir, you are definitely plugged in.”
Then, without expectation, I felt my hip muscles begin to move. It was as if there were strings attached to my hip held by some puppeteer in the sky who was lifting them up and down. It felt like the dance had caught me. The Bushmen took notice and clapped their hands, shouting with joy. They, too, knew that I had been snared by the dance.
I didn’t dance that night. Instead, I was danced--I exerted absolutely no effort or willful intention. Twele and Mantag gracefully moved over to me and brought me into the line of men who were dancing around the fire. I had entered the dance and was doing it with no choreography, dance lessons, or understanding of what was taking place.
