Shiva Nata: the Dance of Shiva

Shiva Nata is brain training that kind of looks like martial arts, and acts like drugs-that-make-you-smart-and-hot.
It uses movement patterns to generate new neural connections and huge understandings that let you rewrite your patterns.
Sometimes we hate it for being so damn hard – but we get over that because Shiva Nata makes us graceful, coordinated and awesome. And because of the hot, buttered epiphanies.

Sitting Shiva vs Dancing Shiva

So a Twitter friend (and if you’re not a Twitterite please read this) had been twittering it up about Dance of Shiva and how awesome it is.

And one of her Twitter friends sent her this in response.

Yes, they’d mixed up the Jewish ritual of mourning the dead with the mythical Hindu dance of destruction and new creation.

It happens.

More often than you’d think.

So let me set the record straight just for, you know, the record? Or whatever, to have something to link to the next time someone asks me in an email.

And luckily — what with me being both very, very jew-ey and Israeli and the #2 world Shiva Nata expert — I think I might just be the perfect person to ask.

The Jewish kind of Shiva vs the kind we talk about here on the blog

How you say it.

The Jewish kind of Shiva is pronounced SheeVA in Hebrew if you’re Israeli. It’s pronounced SHiva (with a short ‘i’) if you’re American.

The Shiva in “Dance of Shiva” is pronounced SHEEva.

What you’re actually referring to.

If you’re Jewish and you’re talking about sitting shiva, you’re referring to the seven days of mourning you observe when someone in your family dies. It’s a symbolic period of separation and transition in which to adjust to the new state of affairs.

People visit you and bring food and stuff. It’s customary not to engage the mourners in conversation unless they themselves initiate it. It’s about separations and distinctions and healing and all the other beautiful themes that are so alive in Judaism.

Whereas, if you’re on this blog, we’re talking about the Dance of Shiva.

The symbolic cycle of taking things apart so that new and better things can be formed. This is the SYMBOLIC power of the Hindu god Shiva. And I quote from my soon-to-be-published book on the subject:

Shiva is, of course, one of the principal deities of the Hindu religion.

Not only is he one of the biggies, he’s actually one of the Trimurti (the three biggest biggies), where in his role as the Destroyer he gets to hang out with Brahma the Creator and Vishnu the Preserver. Some people think of these three as separate, individual gods, while others understand them to be each symbolically representing one of the three primary aspects of the divine.

Shiva also gets to be the primary deity of Shaivism (it’s even named for him!), which is one of three of the most influential denominations in Hinduism. In the Siddha Yoga tradition (of which Kashmir Shaivism is a cornerstone), Shiva is less of a deity and more conceptual — a stand-in for the idea of Divine Source; the formless supreme principle that manifests the universe. Still, no matter how you choose to look at it, pretty impressive.

But before you freak out about all the god of destruction stuff, I also wrote this:

God of Destruction, you say. Doesn’t sound like much fun put like that, does it? In fact, it kind of sounds like we should be running for our lives in panic and terror.

Well, there are two ways you can look at destruction. You either have a Shiva who is a dark and angry god, highly feared and earnestly worshipped, spreading awe and terror in his wake. Or you say, sure, he may be dark, but it’s a purifying kind of darkness that destroys bad stuff like evil, ignorance, and death. And after all, Shiva, destruction, is the partner of Brahma, creation.

You get the idea. Creation and destruction go hand in hand; creation is the thing that is brought into being as a consequence of destruction. In Hinduism, death is practically synonymous with rebirth, and when one thing dies another one is created. Which means Shiva gets to be the destroyer who enables new creation. An ending making room for a new beginning.

So actually isn’t all that strange for the god of destruction to be dancing the dance of creation. But if none of this is working for you, you have my permission to try skipping over the angry Hindu god part of it and thinking about it in the symbolic sense.

Think “winter giving way to spring”, and “swords melting to be made into plowshares” and the whole destroyer thing gets a little less intimidating.

What I do — for my own mental state of calm — is substitute the word “deconstruction”.

Deconstruction holds the positive elements of destruction (power, taking things apart, releasing old bonds, making room for the new) without giving me that mental twitch that comes with the strong negative associations a lot of us have with destruction.

So there you have it. Shiva’s dance is the ongoing, eternal play between deconstruction and reconstruction. The rhythm of Shiva’s dance is that of the process of dissolution and new creation.

Patterns emerge and take shape only to be dissolved and then recreated and rewritten in a new form. And the beat goes on.

So yes, they are both about death.

And they are both about life.

The Jewish practice of sitting Shiva is about letting go. It’s about comfort. It’s about transition and processing and shifting. So yes, that is something they have in common.

One thing leaving. Another thing coming. Boundaries. Connections.

But if we stop playing with the symbolism and just look at them, nope. Totally different practices and different words that mean different things.

And the truth is that in my own life, which I live very deliberately in accordance with both Judaism and yoga, stuff comes up all the time where one appears to be in conflict with the other.

But for me it always comes back to questions of “What do I need right now?” and “What fits best with my path right now?” and stuff like that. I wish I had something more useful to give you as guidance than “stuff like that”.

Luckily, when you have something that appears to be a conflict or a contradiction, the best thing to do is to ask yourself “What do I need to know about this? Are there ways to resolve this that I don’t know about yet?”

And then put your Dance of Shiva DVD on and dance dance dance. Dance for ten minutes. Sit for ten minutes. You’ll get your answer when you need it. Promise.

6 Comments on “Sitting Shiva vs Dancing Shiva”


  1. This is a great post. And I’ve been wanting a copy of your book since the first time I saw you mention it! ^_^

    Megan M.s last blog post..Learning Leadership

  2. Havi
    Twitter: havi

    Yay! Thanks, Megan!


  3. [...] to make things harder for myself (so as to stimulate deconstruction and reconstruction) I decided to try the idea of replacing the numbers with colours and saying them out loud!  I [...]

  4. tulasi-priya

    Havi, thanks for do such great work. I’m benefiting so much. You’re really a soothing and energizing presence. All glories to your service.

    That said, I can’t resist the urge to comment about the pronunciation of Shiva. If you’re going to be technically, excruciatingly correct about Sanskrit pronunciation, Shiva (the god) is also pronounced with a short i (stress on the first syllable), but hardly anybody but Sanskritists say it properly. I think it sounds prettier as SHEE-vuh anyway. Namaste.

  5. Evy MacPhee

    When is the book, Bring on the Epiphanies, coming out, please?

    When I asked Google, it told me June 2008. We know this is not true because I can’t order it yet.

    I am a very new, very small, learner of Dance of Shiva.

    My Hebrew name is Chava or, if I’d been smarter before I started trying to use it in real life: Hava. No one in Kansas EVER got it right even after they heard me say it, never mind what happened when they saw it written in the way I tried to write it.

    I love your blog and look forward to reading it daily.

    Love and blessings,

    Evy/Chava

    I live in Washington State now.

  6. jessie
    Twitter: roomtosmile

    i love it! sitting shiva!

    one thing sitting shiva does do is allow the entire community to come together and acknowledge the realities of transition in a way that respects (ideally) the mourner and puts them at the center. once, in jerusalem, i was privileged to go to the house of my teacher after his mother had passed away. in his big-heartedness, and in his commitment to teaching, he accepted the fact that two! bus-loads! of students were going to come over and he sat with us, told us stories of his mother (she had hidden in the polish forests for 9 months during the holocaust, and made aliyah in her 60s!)and then patiently waited as a long, long line of students snaked past him, wishing him consolation. and he never rushed us out.

    maybe part of shiva nata is finding the learning in the passing of the patterns?

    b’shalom–
    jessie

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