Dancing with Brooms

Weekend reflections on authentic culture, identity, and maybe why we’re so miserable

When I first thought about writing this thing, I imagined a pretty straightforward publication reflecting on past business failures and what I thought of as hilarious anecdotes from the trenches of a service-based company. Throw in a little armchair philosophy and maybe we’ve got something here.

But now, honestly, I have a growing contempt for all things hustle culture, which seems like no more than a completely engrossing means of distracting oneself from reality. This idea sort of came to the surface as I danced with a broom under the starlight Saturday night.

That night, after Vespers, our little parish had a folk dancing party celebrating Greek, Irish and Bulgarian traditions, although I’m sure I saw some Russian “stuff” in there too. It was for everyone, although it was most definitely focused on the young people of the parish. In a world doing everything it can to strip us of our most basic identities, or even to transmogrify them into their opposites, the folk dancing party was a mighty cultural “YAWP” for tradition.

We were there for it. I was particularly there for it when I saw Fr. Paisius, my sort of spiritual advisor and father in the faith, manning the DJ station. I learned later that DJ Paisius, his family, and a few other parish members had recorded the music that we all danced to that night.