Each person playing an instrument makes a special magic. So many things to say . . . so many ways to say them. If not for the drum, I’m not sure I’d be spiritual at all.
—Nighthawk

The first time I was in a drum circle it moved me to tears. There were about 50 people and 100 drummers, and as I watched, the sound from that group reached across the land, spreading throughout Central Park. People from all around gravitated toward it. They were being called to the circle by something they didn’t understand, and something they’d never before experienced. Without coaxing or direction, they all started dancing and swaying and flowing into the circle. One hundred fifty people turned into a thousand, of different races and creeds, all celebrating life together. That is the power of the drum.
—Daniella Waterhawk

The world today definitely beats with a different drum than that of our ancestors. We’re moving at warp speeds and rarely allow that rhythm to slow. Yet the drum’s voice is calling to us, slowly and steadily. The broad-based neopagan community is responding in kind. We feel entranced by this ancient sound that echoes across time and space, but what exactly is the drum saying?

First, the Drum Spirit is simply introducing itself to us again—shaking hands, if you will, and teaching us about its potential. Like any new friend, we are listening to it with expectant ears, not being quite sure what it will tell us next. At first the drum greets us with its flexibility as a spiritual tool. Drumming can become a viable path unto itself or fit in comfortably as part of another Sacred Wheel. It can become the focal point for mystical techniques, or an implement for manifestation on an individual, group, or even global level.

This adaptability and personalized nature attracts people to the drum’s voice, especially those with vision-based traditions. A practiced spiritual drummer knows that the results achieved through this medium depend heavily on his or her determination to know the drum, to connect with Spirit, and to grow as an enlightened soul. This is a wonderful partnership, and one that stresses our role as cocreators in our destiny.

Another message from the Drum Spirit has to do with our tribal past. Early societies truly understood the meaning of the word community, and their respect for tradition was very deep and abiding. The drum represents this part of our history from which humankind tried to separate. The tribal soul, the extended family, the close-knit community, and cultural customs have taken on an air of antiquation in the minds of modern “civilized” folk, much to our undoing. Over time and distance we have lost our sense of connectedness. The drum is a bridge across that gap.

Despite our tendency to separate, humankind’s spirit is growing up and rediscovering who we are. Perhaps more accurately we are remembering who we are and from where we’ve come. As we remember, it’s natural to start waking up and realizing once more the importance of connection, family, tradition, and community to building our future. The drum resonates with the nucleus of that very community. It calls us to gather at the sacred fire once again and celebrate our human tribe.
Third, the drum speaks to us with a universal language: rhythm. Nature tap-tap-taps her rhythm using woodpeckers, raindrops, waves on the beach, and birds on the wing. Each of these is but one of Earth’s drums. Our body resounds with rhythm in each breath we take and in our heart’s beating. If you watch young children, you will see them pound out beats and sway or dance to cadences without any need for teaching. Deaf people can feel the vibrations and move just as surely. The drum speaks our language; it’s just that for a while we forgot the words. Don recalls this early experience with the language of rhythm:

I remember being eleven years old at my grandparents’ house. It was raining outside. I sat by the picture window and listened to the rain steadily pouring downward and this leak in the gutter. The drip-drip-drip from the gutter coupled with the rain. And as I leaned upward to listen, I could also hear my heart beat. The next thing I knew I was tapping on the surface of that window. I became part of that natural band. It was one year later that I got a bongo drum from my father. At that time I didn’t understand the experience, but I knew it made me feel really good. In fact, I started getting in trouble with my teachers for making rhythmic sounds with just about everything including my books and pencils!