Drumming The Soul Awake

I have been offered an extraordinary opportunity to hold a drumming retreat Oct 9-11 (Friday-Sunday) at a lovely resort, Crow Wing Crest Lodge, near Brainerd . Click here to see their web site. I've been there twice with my family, and it is very beautiful and peaceful, located on a lovely lake near great hiking trails (and Itasca State Park) and it's more upscale than places we have held retreats at in the past (It has actual beds, actual living rooms and couches.) We would be the only people there that weekend, and the autumn colors should still be vibrant. I’m calling the retreat "Nurturing the Fires of Eros." The weekend is dedicated to the element fire, and we would ask that spirit to help us nurture (or reignite) the life-force - the fire of eros - that is in us, that animates our creativity, boldness, curiosity, confidence, pleasures, and passion for life. We would also ask the element fire to cleanse us of any obstacles in us that inhibit the flow of our erot...

Welcome one and all to the 8th boom-boom-chakk-chakka-tikka-tik-boom year of Drumming the Soul Awake! Friday, Sept 11, 2009, 7PM -9:30 PM. Welcome to the newcomers and the old comers, the once-in-awhile and the every-ones, the dancers, the thump-thumpers, the explorers, the timid, the loquacious, the whappity-whappers and the closed-eyed reverie-ers. Welcome to you who are on fire with Spirit, and to you afloat in grief and confusion, and to you air-borne thinkers of grand thoughts, and welcome to you lovers of the moist, dark, mothering earth who teaches us how to be human beings. Welcome one and all. For those of you newer to this, usually about 25 people show up, we drum for about 90 minutes – with a little guidance from me, but mostly my job is to get out of the way of the emerging groove. If you are new to drumming, I’ll teach you what you need to know, don’t worry. I have mounds of drums and rattles and shaky, thumpy, scratchy, woo-wooy gizmos to satisfy just about every rhythmic...

Amanda Hone Dear seekers after earthy wonder, I can’t stand it, I want to drum. I want to drum in the woods. How about you? It's a full moon this Friday. Below are a series of drumming experiences I am offering in August. The first one, August 7th (7-9:30PM) is most like one of our usual drumming events, except it will be outdoors. The location is Hidden Falls Park, North Entrance . (There is a south entrance too, but we will be at the north entrance). We will meet in the open space near the covered dining areas. Then I will lead you to a hidden spot in the woods, and we will drum, drum, drum for about an hour. Then the second part of the evening will focus on contacting the spirits of nature. Wa-hoo! Click for Directions. Bring a blanket or camp chair to sit on. And bug spray if you need it. And water to drink. And an absolute lack of worry about how you look when you are sweating and ecstatic. And a dose of curiosity. And a love of this wondrous earth. The remaining August events...

"Sun God*" by Anya ´broom rider´ Kholodova Dear Drummers, You’d think a shamanish -mythic guy like me would pay more attention to the summer solstice. The winter solstice – I’m totally wrapped up in that, but why is the summer solstice less important to me? The winter solstice has been drawn into the mainstream by the influence of feminism. The images around the winter solstice are immediately accessible to all: rebirth, hope, light in the dark time. You don’t need to be in any way pagan to love these ideas. The winter solstice is also powerfully rebellious – it’s the anti-Christmas holiday, but placed at the same time of year so you get to eat fudge without needing to obey Jesus. The summer solstice has none of this going for it, and it has a major strike against it: it focuses on the divine masculine, and this makes my feminist energies uncomfortable. I danced my way to the great mother largely because I was tired of having the divine masculine jammed down my mythic gullet....

Dear Drummers, Welcome all, welcome newcomers and old-comers, welcome rhythmically proficient and groovlically challenged, welcome to anyone who wants to set in motion their hands, their arms, their bodies, and most important, their life-loving, love-living, ever-pulsing Spirit, that Spirit coursing through you that loves your Earth and earths your love! Welcome, welcome to drumming this Friday, June 5th. The photo above is a robin’s nest that seemed to suddenly appear on the second-story window sill of our house two weeks ago. Ten days ago, these eggs appeared. A few days ago, two gooey, trembling almost-birds appeared. A couple of days ago, fully feathered small robins seemed to replace the previous occupants. This morning the nest was empty. Tonight, while playing catch with my two boys in the front yard, a sudden explosion of bird screeches made us run to the back yard where we witnessed no less than six robins attacking, as mightily as they were able to, a large, dark bird. They ...

For father’s day I will be shaving off the nub. As a trained theologian, it is time for me to put down the books and take spiritual action. For those who need to know, the nub is that humiliating last patch of hair just above the forehead, the last scrap of youth clinging to an otherwise balding head. I'm shaving it off. Here is why. Many men have experienced the crushing realization that their hairline is receding. It makes no difference if they are young or old, if it has happened glacially or with the suddenness of a wildfire laying bare the forest. The moment when the man faces the truth is what the 18th century German theologians aptly termed Aufschrei den Verlust von Haarleukoplakie Steifigkeit, loosely translated as “the mournful gasp over the loss of hairy stiffness.” The Germans dealt with the moment of realization by drinking dark beer and moving several pews closer to the rumbling organ in church, but in our time we are peppered with hair replacement products promising...

Dear drummers, The picture of me at left was taken about 18 years ago, from a semester-long mask-making class I taught at Winona State University. I named the mask “Mr. Doom.” He was the voice constantly chattering in my mind telling me, “everything you think, everything you say and everything you do has always turned out shitty and it always will.” I worked with students to build masks of their own inner voices, and the class culminated with each student performing a masked dance/monologue as that inner voice. I didn’t realize until years later that what I was teaching my students, and what I was doing for myself, is what the superstar spiritual teacher Eckhart Tolle calls “distancing yourself from the pain-body,” and what the shamans call “allowing yourself to be danced by spirits.” Both acts are intended to move the chattering voices from the inside to the outside so you can understand what they want from you. Tolle describes the pain-body as an energy field which almost everyone c...