I didn’t want a drum, I didn’t go out looking for a drum nor had I ever expressed, thought of, dreamt of or talked of any interest pertaining to owning or using a drum.
My drum found me, I found my drum. It is made from deer skin and cedar wood and on the handle where I hold my palm there is a rough, unpolished garnet stone.
When I saw the drum, however, I knew it was for me. The person selling the drum knew it was for me (obviously). When the drum was warm and hit its first beat we all knew together at one exact moment.
After working with plant medicines for a few years and having a variety of intense and rewarding experiences I wasn’t skeptical about the drum, just uninterested in its use or what it could potentially achieve.
It’s been a great lesson for me and after many years of being a gung ho, dive straight in kind of wombat, my heart is opening to the possibility that everything is not always as it first seems.
The drum is perhaps the oldest form of active meditation known to man. As the rhythm builds, the brainwaves realign into theta frequency, allowing for deeper travel into the psyche and the cosmos.
Once in this frequency the rational mind is switched off or at least quietened enough for the soul to speak and say what it needs to say. We can explore the deep imagery of our past and of other worlds along with opening a dialogue with the beings that inhabit them.
With the correct intentions and guidance, great healing can take place in this sacred space.
To engage in this world is to engage in the depths of your imagination, eliminating the barrier of the inner and the outer, of what is deemed real and not real. In this ecstatic state the truth will not be hushed. There is no running from it, no cognitive dissonance, no mind or ego to protect you. The deeper you go the more you’ll know.
Go into a drumming journey lightly at your peril, the truth is not always gentle. The truth just is.