And when this happened, back then, people knew it for what it was, you know, they called it by its name.
They would put their hands together and they would start to chant, "Allah, Allah, Allah, God, God, God." That's God, you know.
Curious historical footnote: when the Moors invaded southern Spain,
they took this custom with them and the pronunciation changed over the centuries from "Allah, Allah, Allah," to "Olé, olé, olé," which you still hear in bullfights and in flamenco dances.
In Spain, when a performer has done something impossible and magic,
"Allah, olé, olé, Allah, magnificent, bravo," incomprehensible, there it is -- a glimpse of God. Which is great, because we need that.
But, the tricky bit comes the next morning, for the dancer himself, when he wakes up and discovers that it's Tuesday at 11 a.m., and he's no longer a glimpse of God.
He's just an aging mortal with really bad knees, and maybe he's never going to ascend to that height again.
And maybe nobody will ever chant God's name again as he spins, and what is he then to do with the rest of his life?
This is hard. This is one of the most painful reconciliations to make in a creative life.
But maybe it doesn't have to be quite so full of anguish if you never happened to believe,
in the first place, that the most extraordinary aspects of your being came from you.
But maybe if you just believed that they were on loan to you from some unimaginable source for some exquisite portion of your life to be passed along when you're finished, with somebody else.
And, you know, if we think about it this way, it starts to change everything.
This is how I've started to think, and this is certainly how I've been thinking in the last few months
as I've been working on the book that will soon be published, as the dangerously, frighteningly over-anticipated follow up to my freakish success.
And what I have to sort of keep telling myself when I get really psyched out about that is don't be afraid.
Don't be daunted. Just do your job. Continue to show up for your piece of it, whatever that might be.
If your job is to dance, do your dance. If the divine, cockeyed genius assigned to your case decides to let some sort of wonderment be glimpsed,
for just one moment through your efforts, then "Olé!"
And if not, do your dance anyhow. And "Olé!" to you, nonetheless. I believe this and I feel that we must teach it.
"Olé!" to you, nonetheless, just for having the sheer human love and stubbornness to keep showing up. Thank you.