My Drumming Journey

My musical journey began like many others in grade school, although there wasn’t much for me that was musical about it. Music class was difficult for me because I was very shy and having to sing in front of others was often an excruciating experience. Additionally, every year there was a “show” for the parents, and each child would be subjected to individual voice testing by the teacher to determine the part he or she would be allowed to sing for the show. I dreaded these meetings because of the looks of disappointment I would inevitably endure from the music teacher.

We also were introduced to some instruments. I can remember the crenellated sticks that you rub together to make a washboard like sound, the wooden block, the triangle, and the recorder. I don’t recall being that fond of the rhythm instruments although they were fairly easy. I was pretty decent at playing the recorder, however, I still think it is a horrible instrument, prone to all manner of dying/mating animal noises. In retrospect, those classes in which we played music together were my first rhythm circles.

When I got to junior high I started playing the tenor saxophone and I enjoyed it immensely, even though I was a “band geek”. Unfortunately it was stolen in my eighth grade year and it was never replaced. I went through high school and into my twenties relying on tapes and cds to fulfill my musical needs.

I became involved in a spiritual group that was teaching Native American practices in my early twenties. Every gathering included some form of singing or drumming usually to open and close the work. The music was powerful, sending me into ecstatic and heightened states of awareness. There was a call within the music, urging me to add my voice to the song.

Although it meant revisiting and working through all those wonderful childhood memories of music class, I followed the call and began to add my voice to the singing. At first I mimicked another’s voice that was in my range so that I could learn about tone, pitch, and rhythm. As I began to sing, I discovered that my previous experiences of ecstasy had been but a pale reflection of the possibilities. I began to have visions and to experience the presence of ancestor voices within the song.

When I had progressed enough with my voice, I began to learn how to use a hand drum to keep the rhythm while I was singing. It was extremely difficult at first, like patting your head and rubbing your tummy simultaneously. Eventually I mastered some of the songs and moved even deeper into the spiritual experience. The group dissolved at some point and I stopped singing and drumming for several years.

I was reawakened to drumming several years ago when I attended a week long spiritual retreat. I entered again into the world of ecstatic dancing, drumming, and singing. It was as if my body was the music, and the music was my body. I existed outside of time, yet I was connected to the steady beat of the music. I was at once embodied and aware of the presence inside that was not my body. I could hear again the voices of the ancestors with me, the songs in my blood.

I resolved after this experience to begin my own drumming practice, but this time using a two-handed drum like a djembe. Since that time I have played drums in two consecutive retreats at the same location as the first and have taught a class on ritual drumming. For me it is very much a spiritual practice that allows for the experience of ecstatic union while still maintaining individuality. I still have grade school tapes that criticize my playing, but I try to listen to the ancestors instead.


Justin