Below are expressions of our philosophies-- what we believe in, what fills our hearts when we dance and drum, what we mean when we say 'Let your gypsy spirit shine!'  And central to all of those ideas and beliefs is sahaja.

    Sahaja. (sah-hah-zjah) A word that encompasses so much-- and yet is so difficult to capture.  That's because it's a truth with a capital T-- similar to one of those amazing moments or feelings of life that you can never explain with mere words.  In fact, it often seems easier to express what sahaja is not.

    One simple way we try to convey what sahaja is or means is to say that it is the "opposite" of karma.  Karma, as we define it, is action with intention, doing something with the outcome or consequences in mind, being thought out, prepared-- possessing cause and effect.

    Sahaja, then, is more of the way a child plays before they understand the meaning of any words, the way the wind sighs through the trees on quiet summer evenings, the way it feels to dance by yourself to your favorite music while no one else is watching.

    Sahaja is-- unrestricted, free, without intention, pure, true (with a capital T), real, spontaneous, Alive!

    Sahaja is what we embrace, not only when we dance and create music, but in our everyday (extra)ordinary lives as well.   It means that we're not afraid to compliment the woman at the bank on her beautiful eyes, that we eat when we're hungry and sleep when we're tired, that we can whoop and holler and laugh and smile at all the amazing joys of this world, and that we can be silent and hold each other when there are no other words to be spoken.

 Imagine . . .

    . . . the black of wet bark against brilliant rain-green leaves

    . . . the soft cry of crickets under a firefly moon

    . . . the rich, deep sound of drums echoing the thunder of an oncoming storm

    . . . the perfect morning stillness of the sun rising over dewy sage and sandy red rock

    . . . the crisp taste of air when autumn's frost decorates the quilted forest floor

    That is what we are when we dance, and what dances us.  As a gypsy tribe we have discovered a new way to communicate with one another, a way without words.  We simply listen to the music and to the song that weaves through each of us, and in this way, we can dance the same dance together, each adding to the other's expression, coming together and circling apart, sharing the joy of sahaja with each other and everyone else.