Learning to Embrace the Kali in Me

The powerful emotional journey of this life is something I clearly craved deeply.
Within each life, we have the potential to see, be, feel, and become many layers and levels of emotional expression.
Ballet, for me, was this massive space of permission to explore places within my psyche that I never really knew about or expected to explore.

She was my guide and teacher in human awareness. She was the guru that showed the doorways to limitlessness. She was the angel that understood the longing in my heart and how to remember that I was so much … more.
Characters in ballet move from the gross to the sublime.
Every girl wants to be the princess, the queen, the swan, the fairy. But not every girl wants to become the Evil Queen, the prostitute, the sex fiend, or the dark counterpoint to a story.
And yet, that was to be my fate.

At first, I wondered why artistic directors and choreographers kept picking me to be the “bad” character.
My mind made stuff up that it was because of my height! I was taller than most, and being taller, I was more imposing on stage.
I thought, “That must be it! I was sure of it”
But meeting Monica Mason, I suddenly realized that she was very small. But her energy what huge. At the young age of 20, she made me realize that perhaps it was my energy that was so imposing.
I knew that inside I felt more … intense than others … most of the time. I had learned that I seemed to notice things that others did not do on subtle levels and that my eyes and ears seemed to take in more information and somehow keep it, retain it, and remember.

But I also learned that it would be wise not to share such things with others.
I learned early on (when I was six years old) that it was often best to keep my mouth shut, especially around adults.

In my complex emotional and spiritual world, it was clear that adults had lost that connection to the magic that was constantly weaving through everything.
I even vowed to myself (when I was a child in parochial school) that if nuns could not see angels or Jesus in the church, hallways, and playground, then they could not be trusted.
In my reality, they were no longer connected to the deeper knowing and profound spiritual connection that I knew was there and that I still carried.
It came down to a choice. I realized that I could believe their words, or I could believe my own experience.
I decided to believe my own experience.
Many gurus, teachers, and psychologists have told me in amazement how rare that decision was for a 6-year-old to make.
There was one moment when I tried to explain my reason for lighting all the candles in the church to Mother Superior. I explained that because Jesus was teaching me about how man’s body is the wax of the candle, and when it is lit by the fire of spirit, that eventually, that body of man will melt away and become one with God and everything. He said that was what we experience as death. And it was nothing to be afraid of.
As I was talking, I noticed that the Mother Superior stopped breathing, and a deep scowl etched into her normally kind face that now became hard and tight.
Then she told me in no uncertain terms, and with authority and righteousness, that I was a lying blasphemous child and that no one sees Jesus until the Second Coming!
At that moment, I believed that she and all nuns had lost the connection that was God itself.
That moment was terrifying to me!
These were supposed to be spiritual people. These were the ones that we were to go to for our answers, and now I believed that they could not be trusted to know the truth because they had lost the connection to the higher truths.
They might be repeating the words that mimicked the truth, but they were not in touch with those deeper truths.
That type of realization is very scary to a kid.
We need and depend on adults for our well-being, safety, and security.
That is when I heard the angels remind me that every moment that I could feel my personal “God-Connection,” it would keep me safe.
I knew it because the angels told me again and again that if I stayed connected to them at all times while I would be in challenging situations, I would be safe.
And they have proved that again and again throughout this lifetime. I have been safe from sexual predators in New York City, Berlin, and Paris. I have been safe from dangerous situations in Berlin, Suriname, Salt Lake City, and Los Angeles. I learned to listen and to do what the angels suggested.
I also learned that there is a major difference in vibration between my own ego voice and something more divine.
My own voice would lead me off into patterns of chaos and confusion. My own voice would put me in more suffering.
Where their voices might point me towards lessons that I needed to learn, but they would help me also make sense of them over time.
I learned that listening to guides and angels did not guarantee that life would be without complications. It just meant that you were not alone in figuring out the meaning and purpose of certain events or actions.
I learned early on that powerful phrase, “To be in this world but not of this world.”
This phrase has been attributed to various sources, including Jesus Christ, who is believed to have said this in the Gospel of John, Chapter 17, verse 16. I understood that the idea behind the phrase is that while we live in the physical world, we should not be attached to it or its materialistic values, but instead, we should be focused on spiritual and eternal things.
I have heard this phrase being used by many spiritual and religious leaders throughout history, as well.
But as I child, I understood it from the place that I am a spiritual being in a material world. And that the material world was not really … real. I believed that the spiritual world … and staying connected to that world would help me navigate the material or the physical reality which I currently was experiencing.
So much of this life has been about dismantling the beliefs and ideals I had created about myself.
Ballet really helped me with that.
While my ego and the picture of who I wanted to be as a ballerina was that picture-perfect ideal of every small girl.
The reality was much more difficult, mysterious, darker, and different. The roles that directors and choreographers picked for me were much more complex and challenging. They were not often sweet, nor did they hold despair or loss of hope. (As were most leading roles of principal dancers.)
At first, I thought, “Why can’t I be Juliet? Why can’t I be an Odette or a Giselle?”

While those are still emotionally complex roles, they are the idealized feminine, and I honestly … was just not that.
I was the bad girl on stage. The temptress, the evil creature, the one instigating terrible events.

I was in the angry spirit that stirred things up and wreaked havoc on humanity.

And I discovered that I was really good at it.
I … liked it!
I liked being the dark counterpoint in a pristine, perfect ballet world.
Even as a young dancer, when I would meditate, I would see a very dark goddess staring back at me. Yes, I was meditating at an early age. I did not know what I was doing, but I intuitively noticed that if I followed my breath and stopped my mind that I would find answers.
Clearly, I had done meditation in other lifetimes because learning it in this life was very easy.
I am also that person who, when I have a question, books fall off shelves at bookstores, at people’s houses, or at my own home. I also have strange, personalized license plates that suddenly cut me off and appear in front of me as I am driving that are instructive and insightful. They often answer a question I have been contemplating in my mind.
I would wonder about this dark goddess that kept staring at me in meditation. Her skin would range between black and dark green. It seemed to depend upon her mood. She did not often speak, but she would be watching me, considering me in some way.
Inside I would ask who she was, and she would simply say … that she was me. As a teenager, that statement from her was classically confusing, as many spiritual answers are. That is how they require us to seek more answers and begin the process of self-discovery to validate our meditative and intuitive experiences.
I kept seeing the word “Kali” show up. It would show up in odd places. Car license plates, a person in a crowd would call a name, and it sounded like Kali. And those books falling off the shelves would open to a place of Hindu Goddesses, and one of them was Kali.
When books did that, I would always buy the book. It was clearly an indication that I needed to pay attention to something in the book.
In reading those books, I discovered that in Hinduism, Kali is often depicted with dark or black skin, which is believed to represent the darkness of time and the ultimate reality of the universe. The color black is also associated with her role as a destroyer of ignorance and the ego.
Clearly, something that I needed to work on in this life.

In Buddhism, the equivalent of Kali is Tara. She is usually depicted with green skin, which is believed to symbolize her association with vegetation, growth, and renewal.
However, Tara is also depicted in other colors, each of which represents a different aspect of her enlightened nature.
In Hinduism, the goddess Kali is often associated with destruction and chaos; she is believed to represent the transformative and liberating aspects of the universe. When Kali shows up, she is often seen as a powerful force of change, helping individuals to let go of their attachment to material things.

Kali is also believed to help individuals overcome their fears and limitations and to guide them toward spiritual growth and enlightenment.

One of the key teachings associated with Kali is the importance of surrender and acceptance. By embracing the power of Kali and submitting to her will, individuals can transcend their limitations and achieve a higher state of consciousness. Kali is believed to remind individuals that this life and others are impermanent and reminds us that we need to live in the present moment.

Overall, Kali is seen as a fierce but compassionate deity who helps individuals navigate the challenges of life and overcome their limitations, ultimately leading them toward spiritual growth and enlightenment.
Learning about this dark goddess began to help me make sense of the dancing roles and what I was here to learn to overcome.
I clearly was trying to overcome the paralyzing fear that I had inherited genetically from my family dynamic. I was clearly here to learn to overcome many limitations that I had become attached to from this life and others. I was constantly trying to surrender on a multitude of levels. I was constantly seeking liberation and transcendence from a young age. Dance was the vehicle that allowed humbleness and grace to learn to flow in my body. Dance is hard. One always makes mistakes, and when you are dancing and not fully present, you make more of them, and you can fall or hurt yourself.
I realized that what those Artistic Directors saw in me was that hidden darkness and a lot of power that had been suppressed. Denied emotions can have a powerful impact when released on a stage.
I could see that all those roles were manifestations of Kali in various ways, just as in Buddhism, Kali (which is Tara) also have various emanations and expressions of the bodhisattva (uh·vaa·low·ki·shuh·vaa·ruh ) Avalokiteshvara.
All these roles were me being asked to embody and become another emanation of this Goddess.
When I was on stage being her, I felt powerful, strong, certain, and unafraid. She showed me how to not apologize for what I felt and to trust her and myself. She would show me what I needed to know and how to respond.
She would take over my body and change choreography and the flow of a sequence because it suited her. She knew better than even the choreographers what movements and expressions this audience needed to experience through her at that moment.
When I let her in, she never made a mistake, nor did she even care if she did. She taught me to embrace my fear. She showed me that through loving my human self and accepting all my faults and fears, I could be free.
Through her, I found fearlessness.
I realized that she has always been with me throughout time and that I was a part of her plan to show others how to move through fear, shame, guilt, and loss.

I knew that I personally did not know how to do that. But she did.
All I had to do was open up to her, and magic spilled out into the world or on a stage.
And I realized that she is a living, breathing archetype within every woman and every man.
Inside we have all the archetypes.
Some we deny and are hidden from view.
But some can be seen in a glance or a look. Some can be felt in the movement of a hand or a turn of the head. Some are more comfortable to us … than others.

Ballet taught me the first lesson to learn is to embrace what is hidden. And when it is given honor and respect, it will help us navigate difficult moments.
Kali would arise unbidden when I would encounter dangerous people with an agenda to do me harm. She would stand up and take control, making me do or say the perfect thing in the most critical moment.
She taught me that courage comes from the willingness to face what is.

She taught me about boundaries and that they are not only necessary but critical in the face of those that intend to take what is not theirs.
I am grateful for the very hard lessons that I have learned through embodying her on a stage because she taught me that the real test is to be able to do it off the stage and in life.
Ballet, for me, was the space of permission to explore and to feel scary things, places, emotions, and thoughts. Ballet taught me that emotions do not need to be expressed verbally to be felt or experienced. Ballet taught me that everyone is learning how to feel in their own way.
The audience needs distance and for their mind to observe emotions without getting caught up in the messiness of them.
Being a dancer, I chose to be the embodiment of those feelings and not to let the mind incessantly talk about feelings, but to instead feel them totally and completely. I was to show the power of emotion as it ran through my body, out of my energy field, and out into the audience.
Ballet is the beautiful blend of fire and water dancing with each other. Dance is the expression of the highest value and deepest depth of being an emotional creature through the body. Dance is the expression of life as it pulses through each individual as is inspired by feelings, hopes, and dreams.
Ballet taught me that my energy extends beyond my body. Ballet taught me that my energy impacts and changes space as it moves through them. Ballet taught me that self-control and really watching others are essential to discover the hidden secrets, gifts, and abilities that others hold.
If you can feel deeply into the energy of another, you can understand them and guide them on very subtle levels. But if you are not willing to feel into others, you will always feel alone.
I am never alone. I have millions of teachers, and they are all out there every day for me to encounter, engage with, and dance with … in the ways that respect the boundaries and needs of others.
Dance taught me about intimacy in a way that is deeply vulnerable and personal.
I know that the greatest gift anyone can give me is to see and experience the emergence of their authentic self.
Such a moment can be brief, but it is often unguarded, and it is exhilarating to witness.

~Suzanne Wagner~