Remember that you have been whirling your whole life. It began during the summer in that eerie reenactment of the Black Death better known as “Ring-Around-the-Rosie.” You did it on the midway Tilt-a-Whirl. Then in that stare-up-at-the-sun-and-spin way of adolescence. Now you drink excessively, lie on your bed and let the ceiling do the rest. The lesson is: there is divinity in whirling. It is one of the great unmitigated human activities, like picking Himalayan flowers and humming Raffi songs.
‘A’A I KA HULA, WAIHO KA HILAHILA I KA HALE
When one wants to dance the hula, bashfulness should be left at home.
Live with passion. Do not fear change – embrace it!
I cannot dance upon my Toes—
No Man instructed me—
But oftentimes, among my mind,
A Glee possesseth me,
That had I Ballet knowledge—
Would put itself abroad
In Pirouette to blanch a Troupe—
Or lay a Prima, mad,
And though I had no Gown of Gauze—
No Ringlet, to my Hair,
Nor hopped to Audiences—like Birds,
One Claw upon the Air,
Nor tossed my shape in Eider Balls,
Nor rolled on wheels of snow
Till I was out of sight, in sound,
The House encore me so—
Nor any know I know the Art
Nor any Placard boast me—
It’s full as Opera—