Honoring My Wild Woman


I became divorced, bought a drum and unleashed the wild woman within. “Come on” I said with a wink, “It will be fun.” My two girlfriends met me at the Spiritual Center in town. I couldn’t wait to bang the drum communally and be discovered for my innate rhythmic talents.

Before the actual drumming began, all of the participants were asked to sit in a circle and introduce themselves to the group. It became quite obvious that many in the group were regulars. The introductions began to sound like a 12-step program for Fruits and Nuts on the mend from a granola bender. “Uh, my name is Mystic Voyager and this past month I learned more about how my anger has become misplaced and displaced….My name is Amber Divine and my spirit guide has instructed me to cast my fears to the four corners of the universe….”

While my turn grew closer, I realized that I did not have a spiritual name, or a clear-cut quest. Trying to sound hip, I announced, “Hi, my name is Rhythmic Brook and I work as a massage therapist.” My one friend smirked, while the other kept a stoic look on her face. They didn’t give me away. Maybe they both understood how important this was for me, navigating the waters as a single woman, wanting to find my tribe.

I soon discovered that not everyone in attendance had a cool spiritual name or some profound proclamation. Most of us were seekers looking for a good time.

Finally, the drums were handed out and the wild ruckus began. One woman pranced around with her heart drum. She made it over to me and rhythmically patted the hard buckskin while scanning my heart chakra. Joy welled up inside me. Feeling giddy, I danced around while banging my own drum. Smaller drumming circles formed, morphing into larger ones. Bodies writhed, scarves billowed, a new-found freedom reigned on all levels. I could sense old emotional patterns breaking up in my life, while being carried off in the riotous rhythm that early summer evening some 12 years ago.

As a new cycle starts up this year, I barely know that woman any more. She has since traded drums for listening to her own inner rhythms. While she has healed her heart, she realizes that a regular emotional inventory is necessary. The wonder and curiosity she felt then could be seen as a blessing. Her explorations brought many rich experiences to her life. I miss her sometimes for her spontaneity, her spark and her wonder for all things new.

This is a reminder that she is still a part of me. Even though I have settled down and am in a love-filled relationship, I still need to honor her and allow my wild woman to freely navigate new horizons.

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Suzanne White
Suzanne White works as a hospice massage therapist and videographer. In her free time, she journals, gardens and engages in many creative pursuits. Contact her at [email protected].


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