Flashes of Insight

I have most certainly experienced the pull and connection with the Orisha when I am drumming and particularly when I drum with Yoruban friends. It is very intense and transporting.

I remember one night I had travelled to the next town to drum at one of their ceremonies and that whole town had had a blackout.There was not a light on in the entire town.

As I approached Omi’s house, I saw many cars parked on the lawn. Atiba,the Priest of Elegba, the gatekeeper, came out and quietly greeted me with candle in hand.. As I entered I discovered a room ablaze in candle light and women and men clad in their traditional white robes.

This was an absolutely steamy Florida night and with no electricity for fans and air conditioners, the temperature inside was rising fast.

I unzipped the bag that held my Djembe and took my place amongst the drummers,which is a great honor for a white woman. I got comfortable as possible before the drumming started again. and relaxed into the rhythm.

Omi’s oldest son Ade’ started the beat saluting Elegba as Atiba entered the room amidst fire crackers popping and small candies flying everywhere. This is the way most ceremonies begin to open the road for all the other Orisha and for those who may still be trying to get here.

I love the 6/8 time and feel of this beat, just the perfect syncopation feeling so good as
my hands meet the skin,skin to the drum hand to the beat,feeling the rhythm down to my feet

Eshu o Elegba aye Eshu o Elegba Aye

As the drumming became more intense, Omi passed by taking a mouthfull of Gin and spraying it over the entire line of drummers. This is an offering for the Orisha as well as a blessing for us and the sacred beats that were pounding from our hands. Mine were the only white hands slapping the djembe but the feelings in me had nothing to do with my race in this life anyway. I was being transported deep into a hidden place in some far away jungle beyind space and time and anything that I know in this life. All that mattered was the beat and I was locked in tight as the drum between my legs.

Women in white with heads wrapped dance whirling and swirling like their ancestors did so many years before; before the horrific Middle Passage, before they became a colonized people. Their joy and abandon is palpable and I delight in being a part of the magic being created as the Orisha sweep through them.

My heart pounds, my hands pound, and I was surrounded by the sound and pulse of the Djembe, the sacred drum which possessed me to the core of my being. My arms and hands are flying in all directions meeting the goatskin head with a force beyond anything that I know, yet it is totally effortless and my hands have a life of their own.
I can barely feel my hands hitting the drum head but by the sounds that I am making it is clear that something is coming through me. I can’t say how long we played that night shoulder to shoulder in that airless candlelit room with the aromas of frankincense and sweat swirling around us.

Some 2 hrs later when the electricity suddenly came back on I found myself sitting in a pool of sweat with perspiration even behind my knees and ankles.

The rest of the town may have lost Power that night, but in the midst of my African Family we had Power to spare as we offered it up to all of our Ancestors and Orishas to Heal the World.

Ashe’ Ashe’ Ashe’
Flash Silvermoon

* The Wise Woman’s Tarot - http://www.flashsilvermoon.com *