Why We Drum

Long before we had words for healing, we had rhythm. The steady beat of a drum is one of the oldest medicines we know — a reminder of the first sound we ever heard, the heartbeat that carried us into the world. When we drum, something primal awakens. The mind softens, the breath deepens, and the body begins to remember its own natural rhythm.

Drumming gives us a way to shift state gently, without force. A slow, steady pulse can draw us inward into stillness; a rising rhythm can shake loose tension, stuck energy, or old emotion held quietly in the body. It’s both grounding and expansive — a practice that holds us steady while opening us up.

There’s also a kind of belonging that arises in the beat. Even when we drum alone, we’re never truly solo. We’re tapping into something ancient: the rhythms of land, ancestors, animals, weather, and the countless hands that have struck drums throughout history. The sound becomes a thread reminding us that we’re part of something larger, something timeless.

For me, whether I’m facilitating a journey, holding space in ceremony, or simply playing for my own nervous system, the drum is both anchor and guide. It meets us exactly where we are, and invites us gently toward where we’re ready to go. That’s the medicine. That’s why we drum.