Reflection on the Drum Circle

Anna Hemphill

I guess it sort of comes with being a senior, but I'm ready to grow outside of academia. I think back on the most memorable experiences of my academic career from the time I was in Kindergarten to now, and I marvel at those teachers who were able to reach my heart and impart a wisdom that sticks with me today. In the midst of deadlines and GPAs, it is a wonder that any of us has time for wisdom!

I am so thankful for the much anticipated drum circle. Janelle Esposito and I are roommates, and all semester we were curious about this drum circle that we knew would happen. I loved that I didn't know what to expect and I was ready to participate. That afternoon Janelle and I bundled up, collected her bongos and some blankets, and headed out. We drove along the road that goes past the Mariners Museum and PFAC and through a sort of tunnel of trees. We were listening to classical music - the Eroica Trio's Baroque album - and we realized we were at the beginning of a transformation. In my car we were leaving civilization through this "birth canal," if you will, of trees. Leaving our western senses - as exemplified through the classical music, the epitome of western order and accuracy - we were about to enter a tribal mode. Though snickering, we both recognized the legitimacy of our metaphor, and we opened ourselves up to the possibility of this experience.

It was cold that day, and I didn't expect that we would take off our shoes. In addition to simply being cold, it made me a little self-conscious, a little vulnerable. I guess I had never thought of it, but my feet seemed private, and I never totally forgot that they were exposed as we continued with the drum circle. I had an unexpectedly difficult time with the experience. I'm so used to relaxation and giving over to an experience through theater, so usually things like this impact me in a big way. But I was conscious of the experience the whole time - I never reached the point where I was experiencing it without already "reading it on the world." After we sat down and started playing, I had fun; but that only lasted a little while before I was getting tired and bored. We kept playing, though, and it's funny because as soon as I passed that threshold of discomfort and boredom, I gave in to playing much more. I had to push through this time period of judgement so that I could more fully participate in the circle. This was the moment I was least conscious of the outside world, and it was a really wonderful moment.

Sometimes I would try to close my eyes to be more involved in what was happening - if i could just disengage the visual stimuli, maybe I could get into the rhythm. But I found that I had a better time connecting when I watched people around the circle. When I watched someone connecting with their drum or enjoying the experience, I felt a deep compassion for humanity and a sense of belonging to something special. I ended up praying through a lot of the drum circle in order to stay connected in my own way.

Though I didn't fully engage the entire time, I did grow from the experience of the drum circle. I think I left the circle and returned to my civilization a little taller, being that much more connected to the humanity and the spirit within which we exist.