Introduction: The First Beat
1 – Rhythms of Awakening: My journey with the drum
2 – Echoes Through Time:
A short history of women and drumming
3 – Vibrations of Wellbeing:
The science of drumming and physical health
4 – Percussion and the Psyche:
Drumming’s resonance in brain, nerves and healing
5 – Diverse Frequencies:
How drumming supports people who are neurodivergent
6 – Beating the ‘Shroom:
Drumming as an alternative to psychedelics
7 – Sacred Circles: Drumming, rituals and ceremonies
8 – The Rhythm of New Life:
Drumming to support the birth journey
9 – Tuning into Your Instrument: Finding a drum
10 – Rhythmic Practices:
Ways to work with the drum and drumming
Conclusion: Echoes into the Future
Appendix
“ It’s early morning in a woodland. The air feels like it’s been washed clean overnight. It’s got that special lightness that only exists at dawn, before the day’s heat settles in. The sunlight dapples through the trees, making beautiful patterns on the mossy ground. Birds are singing their dawn choruses.
In the middle of a clearing, a woman stands, ready to drum. She holds the drum’s handle in one hand. On its circular wooden frame, a taut supple skin is stretched. The beater sits in her other hand, ready. As she pauses, the air seems to hold its breath in anticipation.
With a flick of her wrist, the beater connects with the drum’s skin. A “BOOM” pierces the silence, sharp and clear. The drum’s skin ripples from the impact, sending out invisible waves and suddenly the air is alive. The deep “BOOM” rolls through the space, through her body. She feels it in her chest, in her belly and hips, in the soles of her feet. It’s not just a sound – it’s a force, a presence.
She finds her rhythm. BOOM-Boom-Boom. BOOM-Boom-Boom. The beater dances across the drum’s surface, sometimes striking the edge, sometimes the centre, creating different tones. Each beat resonates through the skin, the frame and into her body, as if the drum was speaking directly to her bones.
The tempo increases. Her arm moves faster, the beater a blur. Boom-Boom-Boom-BOOM, Boom-Boom-Boom-BOOM. The rhythm becomes a pulsing energy, flowing from the drum and into the space around her.
Her eyes are closed, and she is lost in the rhythm. Her body sways gently. The beater seems to move of its own accord, as if guided by an unseen force. She can no longer hear the birds or see the forest around her. She is no longer playing the drum – she is the drum, the beater, the rhythm. Past and future melt away, leaving only the now of the beat.
The beat shifts, slows. Now it’s a gentle pulse. Boom…Boom, like a heartbeat… Each strike is deliberate, mindful. She feels her breathing deepen; her muscles relax. The world outside disappears, leaving only this moment, this connection between her, the frame, the skin and the beater.
As the final beat fades, its echo seems to linger in the air. The silence that follows is rich and full, vibrating with otherworldly energy. The nature around her is grateful for this honouring and even the birds are quietly listening. She is left with a profound sense of peace, of presence, of connection to something ancient and powerful that continues to resonate within her long after the drum has gone quiet.
This is what I have been doing weekly for the last four years: drumming at dawn in a woodland with two other women. This practice has given me more gifts than I can count: a deeper connection to nature, to myself, a sense of sisterhood and belonging. It has fulfilled my longing for more connection to the sacred. But perhaps most importantly, it has given me a growing sense of peace and spaciousness in my heart, something to hold on to in the midst of life’s busyness and challenges. What my ever-busy mind could not achieve with meditation, the drum gives to me without my even having to try.”
