“In many shamanic societies, if you came to a medicine person complaining of being disheartened, dispirited, or depressed, they would ask one of four questions. When did you stop dancing? When did you stop singing? When did you stop being enchanted by stories? When did you stop finding comfort in the sweet territory of silence?”

From Gabrielle Roth

 

I like this kind of thing. Someone has an idea, and then brings it to life. An idea! A thought! And then, it becomes tangible, sometimes in an intangible way, like this Sunday evening. Pastor Jeffrey had the idea to read the story Old Turtle by Douglas Wood. Then he thought percussion would be good during the reading. Then, why not let Sharon read while he choreographed all kinds of percussive instruments (including a didgeridoo!), and wouldn’t it be great if we did this at night around a fire pit (AND had smores!) and afterward have a drum circle? Under the sky, red and gold sparks shooting into the air, the smell of wood burning.

When we rehearsed, I brought a thunder tube. Regina had given this to me years ago, it had been her mom’s. There were drums, of course, and chimes, clacking things and things to shake! And on Sunday, people brought their own instruments too.

And I read Old Turtle. And Pastor made a brass bowl sing for us, and the stars shimmer with chimes, and the water thunder and the argument escalate with drumming that pulsed and grew and grew and then suddenly stopped…..silence. Then started again, and the beats flowed with the story and all ended with the bowl’s song. Then silence.

Magic.

Pastor then started the drum circle, explaining it and handing out instruments to eager hands. And I saw an older lady just banging away on her bongos, and across from her toddlers banging away on their small drums, and older people were dancing and there was the sound of a didgeridoo and people’s faces and shapes flickering in and out of light and shadow. The beat lasted for ten minutes and an eternity because I still hear it. Pastor made sure everyone tried different instruments, and encouraged and laughed and enjoyed. We did this three times, three different beats, three times of being in the moment with each other. It was a space of time cut out, and we shared that and I was content.

We had it all that evening. Dancing, singing, story and silence. And we were healed, and changed, and apart and within the world all at the same time. And I imagine Old Turtle smiled.