On my 42nd birthday, after sacred ritual, my drum came to me. The skin had been soaking for 2 days in sacred water. When I picked up the skin, there was a part of me that was revulsed… it was exactly like skin from a cadaver. It pulled much from me to handle this skin. After a few moments, the realization set in that this was a REAL animal, a REAL spirit, a REAL person who was now becoming part of MY creation, my life. After laboring for several hours, I birthed by drum. I gave it great respect and deep love, and in return it loved me back, guided me, sang to me, helped me pray in sadness, in gratitude, from my heart and soul. It was my partner during my earth dance and my vision quest and in each minute of every day. It is my MOST precious possession.
I think my drum is dying. . .The songs are still beautiful, but it sounds like the voice of an elder. It is weary. I am struggling with the decision of retiring the drum or stretching it one more time. It seems almost cruel to ask more from this cherished partner on my path.