My Own Drum

I attended a drum circle and sound bath for the first time. A sound bath with Tibetan bowls promotes meditation and relaxation; there are even healing vibrations. At one point, I felt as though I was in an MRI machine. That got a little unpleasant, but at other times, I could see colors when my eyes were closed, and I felt pierced and penetrated (get your mind out of the gutter). I struggle with keeping my mind still while meditating. My brain is like a dog that got out without a leash as I keep calling it back to the house. The drum circle was just that—we sat in a circle with bongos, congas, drums, rain sticks, and shakers. We were given different beats and told we could sway, use our bodies, improvise, or sing. This feels like the life I need: me meditating, twirling about in a loose-fitting dress, connected, carefree, and barefoot. Although I was not barefoot—I am petrified of germs and convinced I would get a fungus in my toes—there was no twirling or a flowing dress. The experience was beautiful though. The moment's joy was undeniable. But there was just one problem. I was so caught up in keeping the exact beat and proper hand placement that I felt self-conscious about ruining the beat and as though I needed to keep the baseline for everyone else. Sometimes, we can ruin things by trying to make them perfect. If you've ever learned a dance, sometimes we concentrate so hard on the 5-6-7-8 that we rob the step of rhythm, soul, and any resemblance of vibrancy and life ("This is Hip-Hop"). And that's precisely what I did with my drum. I don't want to rob my life of the soul. I want... Character over perfection. Joy over perfection. Freedom over perfection. Growth over perfection. I want to be enthralled in the moment. I want to bang to the beat of my own drum.

Goodies

Flo(w): A Different World? Pregnant Pause: Take Yourself On a First Date She's Gotta Have It: Very demure, Very mindful Cravings: Key Lime Cocktail