IS IT LUCK, OR SOMETHING MORE?

La Metropol Parasol or 'Las Setas'

THE PICTURE ON THE LEFT IS OF SEVILLA'S METROPOL PARASOL, or as it's colloquially known, Las Setas (the Mushrooms). Mostly made of reinforced birch wood, it swoops over the Almirante Apodaca, a major street which I walk along nearly every day. Whenever I do, I'm reminded of how incredibly lucky I am to be here in Seville, studying flamenco with a world class instructor and enjoying the city itself.

I am lucky. But is luck all there is to it?

I debated posting this post. Nearly talked myself out of it, but I'm going to anyway, because the point of writing blog posts is to offer something of interest to your readers, and maybe even some help. I'm going to tell you what I think, and depending on who you are and what your experiences have been, you'll either agree with me, allow for the possibility, or dismiss what I say because it's too 'woo woo'. I read some stats recently, about belief. Those of you who agree with me will fall into the minority, around 25 percent. 50 percent of you will say the jury's still out on whether the world of spirit exists, and the rest will negate what I say altogether. 

Am I lucky, or is it something more?  

I never expected to be here. I never expected my love for flamenco or writing to bring me the opportunities and success they have. I never thought Mike, my dear husband, would support me in either of these passions to the extent he has, and I must certainly take that into consideration. But I also feel there is a spiritual connection to the success I've enjoyed and continue to enjoy. My life has been one surprise after the other. I never expected any of these good things to happen.

That said, I did ask for them. I asked for spiritual help with both my writing career and my dance. And I've received help in spades. 

Who has helped me? Well, that is the question. I think we go on existing after we die. I think death is a transition to a bigger reality than what we know now, a bigger, broader experience. I also think once we pass, we can help those of us who are still in physical form.

I'll tell you a funny story. It's funny because it could be my imagination, and I'll allow for that. Years ago, when I was just starting to dance and struggling with it (but then, flamenco is always a struggle, because you're always reaching for the next level), I asked Antonio Gades to help me grow. Antonio Gades, one of the top maestros in the flamenco world and known internationally. He had passed away a few years earlier, in July, 2004. I was having a small hissy-fit over my lack of ability as a dancer, frustrated because it wasn't happening quickly enough, so I looked up into the air and hailed him like you might yell at an actor from the audience: I really want to dance, Antonio! I need to! I love it so much! Can you help me? (I smile as I write this. I wasn't completely serious when I put the question to him. I was feeling very passionate and emotional and upset about the whole thing). As soon as I finished my heart-felt plea to Antonio, an answer popped into my head. It was this: Do you practice?

I was completely taken aback. I hadn't been practising. Not really, other than mucking about for an hour or two before a student show, and certainly not on a daily basis. What I 'heard' was  exactly what I needed to do. 

I still don't know for certain if this was a real response or my imagination working overtime. I've decided it was real. I felt a bit silly that I should bother such a great maestro, when the answer to my desire was so patently obvious. (And this is why I still like to refer to him as Saint Antonio. Because maybe he is.)

Anyway, all I'm saying is, if you have any faith in the world of spirit at all, and you're in earnest over something you want, or want to do, maybe ask for help. See what happens. You just might get what you need. The luck you reap may be more than you know

Until next time, olé!

- Susan.  

SEVILLA...

Las Setas

FLAMENCO IS A CONVOLUTED DANCE FORM. SEVILLA REFLECTS IT IN MANY WAYS. The photo to the left is of the Metropol Parasol,or as it's commonly known, Las Setas (in English - The Mushrooms). It's the largest wooden structure in the world and was finished construction in 2011. After managing to make our flight connections with only a hour to spare between London and Brussels, and then Brussels and Seville, we managed to get settled into our apartment. Afterwards, we went for a stroll and discovered Las Setas, a five-minute walk away. The photo here is borrowed and copyright-free. Unlike the day view, which is shown here, we saw Las Setas at night.

Complex and complicated. Las Setas is also a perfect metaphor for Seville.

I start my first flamenco workshop later today. The studio is located about a fifteen minute walk away from our apartment. Mike and I went to find it yesterday. On the map, the roads look fairly straight-forward, but not so in reality. It's going to take me a while to find my way without getting lost. The streets here are winding and narrow, with many a side lane intersected by buildings that offer two divergent ways that seem equally plausible (in fact, most of the streets here are what we'd consider a tight cobble stoned back alley.)

This, of course, is all part of Seville's charm. I do love it here. In fact, we are living across the way from what is now a boutique hotel, but was once the home of a famous flamenco guitarist who went by the name of Niño Ricardo. There's a plaque on the wall, commemorating him. When I saw it, I was moved to tears. I know - a little melodramatic, but Seville feels like home. I feel as if I've come back, but...from where? Maybe there is something to past lives. Maybe I was here. Not as the 'me' I am now, but a 'me' who may have lived and died in Spain. How else to explain these strange, complex connections I feel?

Unlike the lanes, the heat isn't subtle. The second you step from your apartment, it hits you like a furnace. The first day we were here, the temperature was 38 degrees. A little shocking for a poor cold-weathered Canadian. Today, it's only 29. We're getting used to the heat. Last night, the AC was set to 26, and it felt cool.

Speaking of last night, we visited the Museo del Baile Flamenco, or the Flamenco Museum of Dance (which is also only about five minutes away), and took in the museum and a show. We sat is the front row and were 'wowed'. My God. It will take me several lifetimes to learn to dance like that. But it was wonderful, a gift from the dancers, singers, and guitarist to the audience. Which, in its essence, is what the best flamenco is. A gift to those who are fortunate enough to witness it, from those who have learned to perform flawlessly and powerfully. An experience, shared by both artist and viewer. We are taken on a journey of both genius and passion.

More mañana. Olé! - Susan.