Eric Kupers is an Inclusive Performance Artist, Professor of Dance and Inclusive Performance at CSU East Bay, co-director of Dandelion Dancetheater, and the director of the Wandering Ensemble, Bandelion, Mandelion, and Seiryo Taiko.
Wandering On
And we keep moving.
Just a little farther.
Perhaps.
Didn’t someone see a light in the distance?
Was that yesterday,
or weeks ago,
or when we were young?
Or was that just a story I heard about the old days.
Is there anyone else out there?
How long have we been traveling?
What if this is it?
What if there is no end to not-knowing?
No home?
No final rest?
No such thing as success? Or failure?
And we keep going.
Some get scared,
tighten up,
when one of us wanders
beyond where we can see,
to follow a call
in a secret language that only they understand.
Some try to hold everyone close,
to keep everyone on track,
to keep us all to the plan made long ago,
when we were in other lands,
It seems
that although we are together
and we need each other
that it is equally true we are each alone,
solitary,
following private paths laid for us
by a vast, invisible hand.
It seems that we can only ever see the next tiny move ahead,
It seems that any attempt to understand
or improve
or give advice on
another’s movements
can,
at best,
only slow us down.
And will more likely open a rift, taking us way off course.
Best to just continue on, side by side,
Protecting each other’s solitude.
Letting the winds of heaven dance between us.
There is comfort in the rhythms of our wandering.
In our comings and goings.
Each step a prayer.
Prayer after prayer
like the constancy of a river,
or the blood
pumping through the veins,
Each stumble a reminder.
Each look into the distance a testament to faith.
Not faith in something,
But faith.
Trust.
Not knowing,
yet…
…here we are…
wandering on.