We’ve all heard the terminology: We are all one. We are all connected. We’ve heard it so often that we take it for granted as to the extent of our connection. During our daily meanderings, we over look the subtle flow of energy between us. When we raise our awareness a notch or two, we start to notice that we exist because of each other, and that every single thought and movement spreads into the world, bouncing and morphing between us and through us creating the “quantum soup” that we call life on earth.
The urge to write this arrived today, during my post Rocking the Daisies wave of synchronicity, while observing myself in my interactions with my friends. However, the seed was planted on Saturday night. Time: 11:42 pm. GPS Cordinates: -33.47’ N 18.52’’ W, or more commonly known as the Red Bull Electro Stage. Jamming to symphonic beats. Synched. Morphed together like a forest of waving branches in a hurricane of orgasmic beats.
The DJ’s: Twelv & Thesis. Lined up across four turntables. They looked like astronauts taking the helm of a spaceship. Videos projections. Surveilance footage cascading into 8-bit heaven. Futuristic. Conceptual. Poignant. The visuals mingle with the experimental beats. We’re teleported into the year 2078.
I look around me. All eyes are up, looking into each other. We’re sensing each others rhythm. We’re locked into one dance. Our bodies melt. Our personal space is obliterated in a surge of serotonin and sweat. We see each other. Bodies liquefy into a river without a beginning or an end. Souls weaving. A vortex. Warping. Merging. Colliding. Fusing together in a cosmic stomping ground. Time travelling. Gathering the past. Stirring it into the present.
We move because of the music. The music moves because of us.
I reach my apex. The beat moves on.
Time: 02:16 am.
Place: Somewhere between Red Bull and Main Stage.
Our bodies still swaying in a translucent symphony of sex and symmetry. A giant beach ball. Bouncing down the slope. Grown men and women chasing and kicking and diving and recovering the inner child. Laughter. Tomfoolery.
We skip another 25 metres and the sound of Block Parties’ This Modern Love takes over. The sound reverberating through the earth and up our legs and into our chests. The beat goes on. Weaving in and out of each other. Daisies blossoming from under our shoes.
The hinges of society completely and utterly ripped apart. Everyone is open. Laid bare. Huston, we have lift off.
Rocking the Daisies proved to be the ultimate microcosm of the potential for life on earth. A world where boundaries don’t exist. A world where we are free to be ourselves. A world that is already here. And we made it.