I’m an award-winning drummer. I have played for 10 to 10,000 people. Many people believe musicianship is a gift we’re born with. Maybe that is true to an extent but, for me, the reason why I spent the better part of my adult life cultivating my ability is I know it to be a way to shake free of grief. I grew up in a deeply troubled home. Addiction and abuse were in plentiful supply. It’s convenient and tidy to say that everyone deals with their pain in their own way but the reality is some people never deal with it. When it’s not dealt with, it eats away at our soul and happiness. I have learned that grief is like a rushing tide of energy and just like great rapids the tide can pull you along for a wild ride if you know how to harness it or can take you to your death.
Music for us wounded souls is a way to provide a conduit for the grief. We hope that if we can control or contain in some way it’s violent movement that it will be less destructive to our being. The lucky happenstance is that others can find solace in our stories, be it painful or happy. I’ve had people come up to me and say that my music affected them in ways that were so intimate. I’ve wanted to stop and explain to them this theory but I always graciously just smile and thank them. What may be hard to put into words is their experience is tantamount to the same conduit. Allowing their pain to finally come out of its safely ensconced nest, shaking free and hopefully, finally out of the body.
While you may not be a musician, there are many other ways in which you can allow space for the energy of grief to move freely, as it was designed to, and finally leaving your soul a little lighter. Love, play every chance you can, paint, write, dance, exercise, or do whatever movement that speaks to you. Just move freely and move in the love of self. There is no wrong or right way. Besides the journey is where a lot of the magic happens!