Dance and Holistic Arts Sanctuary

~Contemporary Mystical Silk Road World Dances~Sufi & Sufiana Ritual World Dances~
~Dance Initiative Program on Hindustani Classical Dance - Kathak~

~Devotional Flamenco Gypsy Ritual Dance~Andalusian Hadra Ritual Dance~Mystical Persian Veil Ritual Dance~Dakini Yogini Tantric Embodiment Ritual Dance Meditation~Ancestral Martial Movement Dance Meditation~Sufi Rutual Dance Meditation~

~Reiki-Kundalini Meditation Ritual~Shakta Devi Meditation Ritual~Luna Collective Womens Circle~Holistic & Ayurvedic Beauty Rituals~Aromatherapy~

~Shakti Kundalini Yoga~Raj Power Yoga~Naad Yoga~

~Community Awakening and Empowerment~Ancient Holistic Treasures to Enrich and Heal our Modern Living~Souk-Bazaar Collections~

These Mystical Dances and Practices are inspired from a variety of ancient traditions that have existed for centuries and are being conserved and practiced throughout the world. We practice sacred art traditions rooted from places such as China, India, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Turkey, Egypt, North/West Africa & Spain (Iberia), inspiring a world-bonding consciousness through the arts of dance.

As we prepare to receive transmission of ancient tradition and ritual, practice meditation and other sequences, we dance and hold sacred space in unity, we become more self empowered using consciously styled movement, we are also invoking an offering to heal and awaken our minds and bodies using holistic movement methodologies, and we are attuning into a higher vibration of our Divine Femenine and Sacred Masculine energies as well as strengthening the vibrations of our Sacred Universe.

We are called to connect deeper within ourselves we find to realize we are ready to bloom as a stronger flower and harvest a richer fruit to offer it each day to our surrounding communities, to our families, to nature, and to the elements. We are like flowers in a garden, each flower is unique. Each flower grows and has its own unique beauty and fragrance.

To be within and feel our senses, to offer our gifts to our surroundings, and to feel that just being there is not only empowering but transforming, as we participate in combinations of activities such as dance, ancient divine femeninity and sacred masculine rituals, meditation, yoga philosophy, ancient martial art meditations, and theatrical arts in a sacred environment is not only transforming but it gives a deeper meaning to our existence and presence as a person, thus gives us a more empowered awakening and reinforces our quality of life and self worth. Most important, it gives us the assurance that we can give out to others as we transcend beyond obstacles and limitations.

Breathing in the fragrance of the flower bud, the flower bloom, and embodying the delicious taste of the emerging fruit; our bodies, our minds, our hearts, are called to offer the fruit. It is the life force; the Flower Blossom. To acknowledge the selfless giving of a seed, its transformation to flower bud, its gentle blooming petals with exquisite fragrance, and the shedding of its petals after its beauty was offered and the magical transformation into a fruit; to feel that you are the same as this seed to this world, can be a transforming and deep experience.

To reach this self realization of awakening but also to reach an empowerment through self consciousness of your life force's worth, and what this is within you can be described as part of the Azahaarsham community experience.

Just bring your open heart, a water bottle, and your smile to class.

Azahaarsham is:

A name of Flower Blossoms... A name of Breath...

An Invitation to transform into Embodied Dancer, Yogi or Yogini and Embodied Being, a sensory of culture and art as sacredness, and community/world bonding.

For Yourself and the Universe around you, in Unity, Beauty, Peace, and Empowerment.

Classes and Workshops are facilitated by:

Margie Velázquez,
Azahaarsham Dance Mystical & Wellness Arts Atelier Founder & Creative Director, Holistic Movement & Sacred World Dance Instructor, Guru Initiated Shakta Yogini & Reiki Master Teacher.

Classes are also offered in Spanish

e-mail: margievelazquezdance@gmail.com

international skype: Azahaarsham

for more info within U.S.: 1.310.343.5023


~MUSINGS~



Saturday, December 17, 2011

Abundance



There is light and wine and sweethearts
in the Pomegranate Flowers.


Rumi
~Persia~



Sunday, December 11, 2011

Wisdom



The Sun never says to the Earth,
'you owe me'.

Look what happens with a love like that,
it lights up the whole Sky.


Hafiz
~Persia~




Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Lotus Stalks



Oh Soul
whip up the wind.
Let the bird fly
flower to flower
towards her mate
in
Sahasrara.
When that happens
the five elements in you
Earth, Fire, Water, Wind and Ether
will dissolve
and you'll be free
to merge
with the Supreme.


Battacharya
~India~




Friday, December 2, 2011

Two Loves


I have loved Thee with two loves -
a selfish love and a love that is worthy of Thee.
As for the love which is selfish,
Therein I occupy myself with Thee,
to the exclusion of all others.
But in the love which is worthy of Thee,
Thou dost raise the veil that I may see Thee.
Yet is the praise not mine in this or that,
But the praise is to Thee in both that and this.


Rabia al Basri
~Iraq~

Wings




You were born with Wings!!
Why crawl through Life?

Rumi
~Persia~

Friday, November 11, 2011

Sultan of Love



Sweetly parading you go my soul of soul, go not without me;
life of your friends, enter not the garden without me.
Sky, revolve not without me; moon, shine not without me;
earth travel not without me, and time, go not without me.
With you this world is joyous, and with you that world is joyous;
in this world dwell not without me, and to that world
depart not without me.
Vision, know not without me, and tongue, recite not without me; glance behold not without me, and soul, go not without me.
The night through the moon's light sees its face white; I am light, you are my moon, go not to heaven without me.
The thorn is secure from the fire in the shelter of the roses face:
you are the rose, I your thorn;
go not into the rose garden without me.
I run in the curve of your mallet when your eye is with me;
even so gaze upon me, drive not without me, go not without me.
When, joy, you are companion of the king, drink not without me; when, watchman, you go to the kings roof, go not without me.
Alas for him who goes on this road without your sign; since you,
O signless one, are my sign, go not without me.
Alas for him who goes on the road without my knowledge;
you are the knowledge of the road for me;
O road-knower, go not without me.Others call you love,
I call you the Sultan of Love;
O you who are higher than the imagination of this and that,
go not without me.


Rumi
~Persia~



Thursday, November 10, 2011

You



You are the master alchemist.

You light the fire of love
in earth and sky
in heart and soul
of every being.

Through your love
existence and nonexistence merge.
All opposites unite.
All that is profane
becomes sacred again.

Rumi
~Persia~


Monday, November 7, 2011

Flowing Waters




The touch of
Sacred Water
is something we crave
at times.

We wish to be cleansed
of our sins,
misdeeds,
and even our own past at times.

Anonymous
~In reference to Water as all Sacred Source of Life and Divine Manifest~

Divan



When we enter the excitement of the Night
We'll amass gifts from the Ocean of the Night.
The Night veils the unseen witness from sight
We cannot compare the Day to the Night.
Sleep will not want, from sleep will take flight
He who has never seen the pisturesque Night.
Many a pure soul and Heart that is bright
Employed in service to the demands of the Night.
Night is an empty pot, black, contrite,
if never tasted delicacies of the Night.
This journey is long, God speed our plight
As we traverse the length and width of the Night.
From worldly affairs my hands are tied tight
Till twilight, I am in the Hands of the Night.
Commerce and trade are the work of Daylight
Of different taste are the Trades of the Night.
You have reached Solar Heights
Sun jealous of you, while begs for you the Night.



Rumi
Divan-e-Shams 39
~Persia~

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Eternity



The Rose was
not looking for the morning;
on its branch, almost inmortal
it looked for something other.

The Rose was
not looking for wisdom, or for shadow;
the edge of flesh and dreaming,
it looked for something other.

The Rose was
not looking for the rose; was
unmoving in the heavens;
it looked for something other.

Lorca
~Spain~

Saturday, November 5, 2011

The Music




My friend,
The stain of the Great Dancer has penetrated my body.

I drank the Cup of Music
and I am hopelessly Drunk.


Mirabai
~India~




Friday, November 4, 2011

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Wine



I drink no ordinary wine
but Wine of Everlasting Bliss,
As I repeat my Mother Kali's name;
It so intoxicates my mind that people take me to be drunk!

First, My teacher gives Molasses
for the making of the Wine;
My longing is the ferment
to transform it.

Knowledge, the maker of the Wine,
prepares it for me then;
and when it is done,
my mind imbibes it from the bottle of the Mantra.

Taking the Mother's Name to make it pure.


She is Mother Kali.

Sri Ramprasad
~India~




Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Beauty



Beauty surrounds us,
But usually we need to be walking in a garden to know it.

Rumi
~Persia~

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

One Light



What are "I" and "You"?
Just lattices
In the niches of a lamp
Through which the One Light radiates.

"I" and "You" are the veil
Between heaven and earth;
Lift this veil and you will see
How all sects and religions are one.

Lift this veil and you will ask---
When "I" and "You" do not exist
What is mosque?
What is synagogue?
What is fire temple?


Shabistari
~Persia~


Sunday, October 30, 2011

The Gift




How
Did the Rose
Ever open its heart
And give to this world
All its
Beauty?
It felt the encouragement of Light
against its
Being.


Hafiz
~Persia~


Friday, October 28, 2011

Nonexistence



Many mistakes may occur in love.
The first of them is that people imagine that
the object of love is an existent thing...
In fact, love's object remains forever nonexistent,
 but most lovers are not aware of this,
unless they should be knowers of the realities.


Ibn Arabi
~Spain~

Monday, October 24, 2011

Ode



I am Sarasvati,
the graceful flowing of the waters of divine poetry
I cause the river of inspiration to enter the artist
in joyous swirls and fountains
I cause the waves of bliss to take form within the heart,
and emerge as tales of love.
My holy places on earth are small grottoes
of strong light and shade
Where the poet may sit and glide off into blue skies
Overgrown banks of streams, full with grass and wild-flowers
The moss-covered rocks beneath the waterfall
Small places where the body may be left
While the soul flies into the heavens.
I am seen in art nouveau waters, and the golden lakes on Japanese screens
The scroll whose hidden treasure lies in a small cove
The beautiful place in the middle of a field, where a cluster of white flowers grows
Where birds and animals flock by nature, to rest in the warm breezes and dewdrops.
To those on the winding path of the spirit I say:
I am no guide to the top of the snowy mountains
My home is amid peace and beauty, the swirling of water and music
I work with those who wish to give to the world
Who return from the heights or who have not begun their journey
Who give their love to the world and not to distant gods.
To them I give the gift
Of lovely speech and beautiful voice
Ideas which do no hesitate, but dance out into the world
Waves of creativity which have only need of media for expression
Music and dance which occur spontaneously and are perfect
I give patience to the potter, a keen eye to the artist
I form the words of affection in the mouth of the lover
I give rhythm and melody to the musician, so that he does not play
But acts as a channel for the music of the universe.

I have no taste for bickering gods who rule the skies
Nor those so high that they do not wish to communicate
My love is grace and beauty, the joys of creation
I flow in the river, and down the waterfall
Rushing in whirlpools, and rising slowly in shining bubbles
To alight besides a lone musician
To fill him with the love and grace of the universe
.

courtesy of: Crystal Rivers

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Friday, October 14, 2011

Moon



When the moon sails out
the water hides Earth's surface,
the Heart feels like and Island
in the Infinite Silence.

Lorca
~Spain~

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Being


All I was doing was being,
and
the Dancing Energy
came by my house.


Mirabai
~India~

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Light



In your light,
 I learn how to love.

In your beauty,
how to make poems.

 You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you,

but sometimes I do,
 and that sight becomes this art.

Rumi
~Persia~

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Love



Many other woes in the World besides Love;
many other comforts...


Faiz
~Pakistan~

Monday, October 10, 2011

Snow





The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
Turns Ashes
or it Prospers, and anon,
like
Snow
Upon the Desert's dusty Face
Lighting a little Hour or two
is gone.


Khayyam
~Persia~


Saturday, October 8, 2011

Shakti



This is a tribute to the Shakti.
She who is felt, but never understood.
Understood but never encompassed,
encompassed but never encircled until embraced,
embraced only if you are very foolish or blessed.

Tarun
~India~


Let Yourself




Let Yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love.


Rumi
~Persia~



Friday, October 7, 2011

Buds Into Blossoms


No: it is not yours to open buds into blossoms.
Shake the bud, strike it; it is beyond your power to make it blossom.
Your touch soils it, you tear its petals to pieces and strew them in the dust.
But no colours appear, and no perfume.
Ah! it is not for you to open the bud into a blossom.
He who can open the bud does it so simply.
He gives it a glance, and the life-sap stirs through its veins.
At his breath the flower spreads its wings and flutters in the wind.
Colours flush out like heart-longings, the perfume betrays a sweet secret.
He who can open the bud does it so simply.

Tagore
~India~


Thursday, October 6, 2011

Invocation To The Laurel


Over the Horizon, lost in confusion,
came the sad night, pregnant with stars.
I, like the bearded mage of the tales,
knew the language of stones and flowers.

I learned the secrets of melancholy,
told by cypresses, nettles and ivy;
I knew the dream from lips of nard,
sang serene songs with the irises.

In the old forest, filled with its blackness,
all of them showed me the souls they have;
the pines, drunk on aroma and sound;
the old olives, burdened with knowledge;
the dead poplars, nests for the ants;
the moss, snowy with white violets.

All spoke tenderly to my heart
trembling in threads of rustling silk
where water involves motionless things,
like a web of eternal harmony.

The roses there were sounding the lyre,
oaks weaving the gold of legends,
and amidst their virile sadness
the junipers spoke of rustic fears.

I knew all the passion of woodland;
rhythms of leaves, rhythms of stars.
But tell me, oh cedars, if my heart
will sleep in the arms of perfect light!

I know the lyre you prophecy, roses:
fashioned of strings from my dead life.
Tell me what pool I might leave it in,
as former passions are left behind!

I know the mystery you sing of, cypress;
I am your brother of night and pain;
we hold inside us a tangle of nests,
you of nightingales, I of sadness!

I know your endless enchantment, old olive tree,
yielding us blood you extract from the Earth,
like you, I extract with my feelings
the sacred oil
held by ideas!

You all overwhelm me with songs;
I ask only for my uncertain one;
none of you will quell the anxieties
of this chaste fire
that burns in my breast.

O laurel divine, with soul inaccessible,
always so silent,
filled with nobility!
Pour in my ears your divine history,
all your wisdom, profound and sincere!

Tree that produces fruits of the silence,
maestro of kisses and mage of orchestras,
formed from Daphne’s roseate flesh
with Apollo’s potent sap in your veins!

O high priest of ancient knowledge!
O solemn mute, closed to lament!
All your forest brothers speak to me;
only you, harsh one, scorn my song!

Perhaps, oh maestro of rhythm, you muse
on the pointlessness of the poet’s sad weeping.
Perhaps your leaves, flecked by the moonlight,
forgo all the illusions of spring.

The delicate tenderness of evening,
that covered the path with black dew,
holding out a vast canopy to night,
came solemnly, pregnant with stars.

Lorca
~Spain~




What Was Said To The Rose






What was said to the rose that made it open
was said to me here in my chest.
What was told the Cypress that made it strong and straight,
what was whispered to the jasmine
so it is what it is,
whatever made sugarcane sweet,
whatever was said
to the inhabitants of the town of Chigil inTurkistan
that makes them so handsome,
whatever lets the pomegranate flower blush like a human face,
that is being said to me now.
I blush.
Whatever put eloquence in language,
that's happening here.
The great warehouse doors open;
I fill with gratitude,
chewing a piece of sugarcane,
in love with the one to whom every that belongs!

Rumi
~Persia~

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

My Heart Has Become Able To Take On All Forms


My heart has become able
To take on all forms.
It is a pasture for gazelles,
For monks an abbey.

It is a temple for idols
And for whoever circumambulates it, the Kaaba.
It is the tablets of the Torah
And also the leaves of the Koran.

I believe in the religion
Of Love
Whatever direction its caravans may take,
For love is my religion and my faith.

Ibn Arabi 
~Spain~