I don’t remember making a conscious decision for what I am about to describe. All I know is that I wanted to be outside under the full moon, and I thought drumming might be fun. I haven’t beat the drum in a long time. I’ve only danced to it.
But as I sat there in the crisp blue glow something happened. The moon, and the earth, and the drum lulled me into a place I was not expecting or trying to go.
I had started just beating a rhythm, it was deep and grounding and my thoughts were empty. And then something shifted and soon with every beat of the drum of I was drumming for someone.
I was drumming for every gay man or woman that has suffered at the hands of others. I drummed for every child that has ever been bullied. I beat that drum for every woman that has been chastised, beaten, or burned at the stake. I sent those pounding pulses reverberating through the night.
My drumming had taken on a life of its own, it had purpose, it was quite literally out of my hands.
I drummed for every person that has taken their life, driven to the edge of suffering and despair by people around them that were too ignorant to understand the effect of their actions.
I drummed for every person that had done the bullying or the chastising, the beating, the burning, and the breaking.
The drum sent those sounds of throbbing beauty out onto into the night air of the canyon and down the river. The trees picked up the sounds and sent them out over the plains.
I drummed for every person that has risen up and lived their joy. Or spoken their truth. For every person that has found happiness and lived it to the fullest.
For every misfit, rebel, and lover of life I beat the drum.
And then I beat the drum, letting the sound erase as much of the pain, and raise as much of the love as one woman beating a drum can manage. Letting the sound work its magic in unison with the earth, the trees, the wind, the river, and the moon…….setting every creature free to live its joy.