Drum Brothers & Satsang Music
Once again another joyous escape into the ecstatic pulse of the drumbeat.
I was moved to tears as the whole room vibrated and resonated with the pulse and beat of not only the guitar, drone, and drum but also of the power of chant. Tears...i fought them back. I was overcome with emotion, with feeling, with being alive, with getting in touch, with release.
Big sigh. All the air out. Blow it away. again. return to centre. pause. Exhale. Breathe in. deep. forceful out breathe. close your eyes. listen. repeat.
Ahhh, it has been a week. I wanted to melt right there and blubber and sob and let it out. If it were any other gathering I would have. I pictured the leader of the workshop as Pam (England, BFW) and I know if she were there she would have welcomed the tears, she would have known another layer had been peeled away...finally...she would have looked me straight in the eye and challenged me to go deeper, to get in touch, to get angry perhaps. But it was not the time or place. So I talked myself down, I told myself what i was feeling was only a story I was telling myself, that it wasn't the real story...that eveything was a story.....
The pulse, the beat, the rhythm, the unity in a group of strangers. The energy, the beauty, the symetry, the syncronicity, the heartbeat.....
The muck, the mudiness, the struggle, the hurt, the fear, the future.....disolved for but a moment.
Thank-you. More. More. More. Enough.
with love, Tricia
Once again another joyous escape into the ecstatic pulse of the drumbeat.
I was moved to tears as the whole room vibrated and resonated with the pulse and beat of not only the guitar, drone, and drum but also of the power of chant. Tears...i fought them back. I was overcome with emotion, with feeling, with being alive, with getting in touch, with release.
Big sigh. All the air out. Blow it away. again. return to centre. pause. Exhale. Breathe in. deep. forceful out breathe. close your eyes. listen. repeat.
Ahhh, it has been a week. I wanted to melt right there and blubber and sob and let it out. If it were any other gathering I would have. I pictured the leader of the workshop as Pam (England, BFW) and I know if she were there she would have welcomed the tears, she would have known another layer had been peeled away...finally...she would have looked me straight in the eye and challenged me to go deeper, to get in touch, to get angry perhaps. But it was not the time or place. So I talked myself down, I told myself what i was feeling was only a story I was telling myself, that it wasn't the real story...that eveything was a story.....
The pulse, the beat, the rhythm, the unity in a group of strangers. The energy, the beauty, the symetry, the syncronicity, the heartbeat.....
The muck, the mudiness, the struggle, the hurt, the fear, the future.....disolved for but a moment.
Thank-you. More. More. More. Enough.
with love, Tricia
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