Summer 2017 saw me in Formby for an event organised by my wife M. It was hosted by Heron Drums and run by Jonathan Weakes. Its purpose? It was a whole day course on making a sacred drum from animal hide and wood.
My choice was to use stag hide, and the hoop was of a light oak. During the process of choosing these items I gave thanks to Herne and Cernunnos as it seemed appropriate. In fact, it was, as our next step was to undergo a Shamanic opening ritual casting a circle and drumming using already-made drums.
There was then a discussion about the ethics and spirituality of drum making. We discussed drums as a journeying tool particularly, which appealed to me. There was then a demonstration of the drum-making process, followed by a shared lunch. We had brought plates!
After lunch we got to make our own drum. I raced ahead believing I knew what I was doing. Soon I was in a rhythm. During the threading I asked for the drum to be blessed with the power to take me journeying. This would be its purpose. I tuned into the spirit of the drum for this. I got to a stopping point and was told that I’d mis-threaded the sinews and had missed The South point. What was the significance of this, I was asked? South is passion. I have clearly been missing my passion for all things spiritual this year. Now I had to go back, work backwards, go back to the start and find the love for carrying on.
Once I had corrected myself, I continued and this time was even faster. I got to the handle-making part just after most others had got there, despite my setback. Then I began to bring in the energies of the four quarters, the cardinal points. At this stage the same thing happened again! I had forged ahead, and found that I had not left room for a loop used to finish the tethering, so I had to back track once again. Clearly, as I had been told by spirit recently, this was a lesson in patience, and in asking for guidance along the way instead of thinking that I knew best.
The results were astonishing. Although wet, we could see the stunning finish of the drum skin with its patterns, stretch marks and shadings.
Frustratingly, we had to leave them to dry for a week. Another lesson in patience when it comes to natural processes. By the way – once dried playing the drum felt fantastic. It had been birthed in a true ceremony. As we discussed the birthing process within the workshop a baby cried in a nearby garden. How coincidental!
Then Jonathan drummed while we journeyed in blankets on the floor. Everyone had an interesting tale to tell. During my drum journey I met with a stag man (clearly Herne or Cernunnos). The stag man firstly tried to trick me by appearing all around me, trying to distract me or dismiss me. I hung around and fixed on the real stag man, picking him out intuitively. I was in a woodland clearing. Then he said he wanted the drum to be used with a stag’s antler as a beater. I would see what I could do!
And so the sacred drum is born and begins its new life with me on my journeys.
