I made a shamanic drum from scratch. It’s a little bit intimidating. For many years I thought I had no sense of rhythm, only to find out I was just detached from my body. Now that I’m learning how to feel myself again, I can see it was a poor excuse not to share my songs with the world.
The organizers wrote the ceremony would take 16 hours, be intense and sometimes even painful, and that there’s no guarantee we’d wrap it up before midnight. What a lovely way to spend a Sunday! I had no idea what I was signing up for, but I was excited and a little bit nervous to find out.
What does it even mean for a drum to be shamanic? As far as I understand, it’s all about the process and the intention that goes into making it. Compared with some ceremonies I’ve attended before, this one wasn’t big on shamanic symbols or ritual gestures. All we did was chat about what to expect and why, declare our intentions out loud, say a gratitude prayer, meditate for a few minutes, and then get down to work.
They told us it would be intense, and they didn’t lie
Raw leather is sturdy, and requires a lot of strength to pull it into place and give it the desired shape. You’re lacing it with a single long piece of artificial sinew thread which is sticky from beeswax and very prone to tangling up. And in the end you need to tighten all the laces by tying them up with another piece of thread, all while applying enormous pressure that almost cuts off the blood circulation in your hands.
“If you only wanted a drum, you would have bought one already” - said our teacher in the beginning - “There’s plenty of shamanic drums available everywhere. So ask yourself, what is it that I’m coming here for? What kind of a person do I want to become?”
Some people say you don’t make a shamanic drum, you give birth to it. The process is hard labor, but it’s a labor of love. Your drum becomes a living thing through all the pain and love you’ve put into making it.
There were 4 pieces of raw cow leather available in the size I’ve chosen. We had to sort out within our group who’s taking which piece. At this stage you can never tell how the drum is going to look like, so you have to go by the vibes only. One of the pieces felt really good, but another girl in the group fell in love with it. I gave it up knowing whatever I get was going to be amazing.
You can only make a shamanic drum in one go
The leather is only wet for so long, and if you miss the window it won’t take the desired shape. You’re getting one try, and if you give up halfway through it, the cow or deer skin will go to waste.
“Making a shamanic drum is all about confronting death. You’re sitting in front of an animal that’s been killed and a tree that’s been killed. What are you willing to do to give them another life? How are you going to honor their offering?”
At first I was trying to rush through it. That’s my usual strategy for doing things that are hard. This gave me enough momentum to thread the first few holes, but soon I started to feel the pain in my lower back. I saw the sun setting outside, and realized I wasn’t even done with the first half of the first part of the process, and that there would be two more.
If I was doing anything else, I’d probably decide to come back to it tomorrow. But I knew there couldn’t be no tomorrow.
When frustration inevitably hits, what do you do?
You can give up and ask for someone to finish it for you. You can get upset and angry with yourself for not doing it well or fast enough. You can wallow in pain, hopelessness and guilt. Or you can take a few deep breaths, remind yourself why you’re doing it, and keep going.
“When you’re doing something new, there’s a lot of uncertainty. Am I doing this right? Is my effort good enough? What if I mess something up and it will all go to waste? So I will tell you right now: no, your effort is not good enough. After your first 20-30 drums you’ll get a sense of what you need to do. Some parts are too hard to explain or do them right the first time, so I’ll do these parts for you. There are some other hard parts you might want me to do for you too. This is your drum and your responsibility, you have to be honest with yourself why you came here.”
The second part of the process was the most painful one. It was past 10pm already, and even the yoga teacher among us was all stiff and sore. You had to wrap the sinew thread around a bunch of tight laces, then pull them all together as hard as you could, then repeat a hundred times. If you let go of the pressure, some parts might get unwrapped.
“You can make a shamanic drum during a 5-hour workshop, but it won’t resonate as much, it won’t sound as deep. At 16 hours it’s really not about the drum, it’s about the intention you’ve set, and how far are you willing to go for it. That’s the only difference between a workshop and a ceremony.”
To do something you’ve never done before, even when you feel like you can’t go any further. To get frustrated, feel your whole body in pain, then keep going anyway. To mess something up, then have to decide what to do with it, undo a large part then have to redo it again. To decide you’re going to have a great time in the middle of it all anyway.
“If you deal with anger and frustration here just 10% better than normally, you’ll show up differently in the world. You’ll learn to face uncertainty and do something anyway. To take responsibility, even if you feel like there’s no way you could possibly make an informed choice. To respect the animals and plants that died so that you can live. These skills will stay with you in every day life.”
My intention was all about courage
I prayed that I stop hiding in the shadows and speak my truth clearly and openly even when it’s hard. I prayed that I always turn towards the Source, and carry its songs wherever they are needed the most. I prayed that I find the strength needed to stir things up, so that old wounds can see the daylight and heal.
And even though I’m still sore and tired, I can already feel something shifted in me. It will take many more weeks to integrate, but when it’s hard I can always turn to my drum and pray for courage.
It’s time to share my song with the world.
I love your last line, "It's time to share my song with the world." May your song find the hearts it is meant to touch, to heal, enliven, empower, and uplift. May it bring these gifts to you as well.