We talk a lot about stillness in spiritual spaces.
Reflection. Meditation. Solitude.
And those things are beautiful. Necessary, even. But connection does not always come in silence.
Sometimes, it comes when we gather.
When we dance. When we laugh, cry, sing, or trip.
Not for the sake of escape, but because something powerful happens when we allow joy to bring us together.
That is Revelry, and it is sacred.
In some cultures, dance is the highest form of prayer.
In others, breath shared in rhythm is enough to call in the divine. We see this sacred movement around the world.
In the spinning bodies of the Sufi dervishes.
In the fire-filled harmonies of gospel choirs.
In the shaking rituals of the San.
In the trance chants of the Bwiti.
Even in the playful silence of a room full of people painting while mushrooms bloom in their bloodstream.
These are not accidents. They are invitations.
Revelry does not require belief. It requires presence.
It does not demand doctrine. It asks for participation.
It invites us to be seen, not only in our stillness, but in our motion.
In the joy. In the sound. In the sacred chaos of togetherness.
Revelry reminds us that healing does not always look like peace and quiet.
Sometimes it looks like wild color.
Sometimes it sounds like laughter echoing under stars.
Sometimes it feels like falling into rhythm with strangers who no longer feel like strangers.
So ask yourself.
What does it look like when you connect through joy?
When was the last time your spirit opened, not through contemplation, but through celebration?
And how can you bring more of that into your life?
Because the Universe does not only speak in whispers.
Sometimes, it sings.