The room was buzzing, my hands were tingling, and as the volume of our drumming grew louder, somehow the effect was to quiet the noise in my mind.
It’s impossible, it turns out, to concentrate on replicating African hand drumming beats while worrying about the credit card bill or events of the day.
I'd joined over 30 others in a local hall for the first of a six-week-long course run by InRhythm's Kimberly Anderson, who learnt the power of the djembe instrument after searching for a hobby to help switch off from a high-pressured corporate job in Australia.
Her quest led her to an African drumming session, something she loved so much she went on to facilitate workshops. That was 20 years ago and since returning to New Zealand in 2014 the Kiwi has continued leading classes here, having packed 40 djembe drums into a container to shift home with her.
“Rhythm calms our limbic system, where our stress response comes from,” said Kimberley, whose day job is executive coach and leadership trainer.
“That’s why we rock babies and pat them because anything rhythmic calms our central nervous system.”
She told us of one participant who’d regularly pull up a yoga mat after a short stint drumming and just lie down to enjoy the beat.
Most of all, Kimberley said, she wanted us to enjoy the experience, gain a sense of relaxation and community, and leave with more energy than when we’d arrived.
“There are no mistakes,” she added, as we sat ready with djembe goblet-shaped drums tilted between our knees.
We were a mix of beginners, like me, and more seasoned enthusiasts who’d brought their own drums, some beautifully hand carved, all encased with ropes – the tuning mechanism.
“There's no pressure to get it right,” she reassured. “No judgment. And the concept of musical entrainment means your body will want to do the same thing as all the other bodies in the room.”
After explaining there were three traditional sounds we could make with the drum and demonstrating the hand movements to create them she led the way with us following suit.
There was an obvious difference between us first-timers whose bodies initially remained very still, eyes focussed on each hand movement, and the more experienced who swayed in time, some with eyes shut. Every now and then I’d momentarily lose concentration and end up giggling with my neighbour as I tried to reconnect with the group.
To my left in the circle sat Linda and her two adult children who she’d treated to the course for their birthdays. To my right, mum of two Yvonne, who homeschools and had decided to carve out some ‘me’ time.
As our confidence grew Kimberley danced in the middle as she drummed or played other percussion instruments, using her body’s movements to indicate which side should go louder or softer. Every now and then she’d circle her arm above her head to indicate more momentum.
Once we’d grasped some basics she’d lead part of the group into one rhythm then the other with a different beat, creating polyrhythms. The shared sense of creating music felt remarkable and quite meditative. “We’re often used to hearing just one rhythm when we listen to rock beats, so this can be mind-bending,” Kimberley said.
She encouraged us to use peripheral vision to gain a wider sense of our surroundings.
“Cast your eyes around because we're a beautiful circle of people, and give everyone a ‘How you doing?’ look as you drum,” she encouraged. More laughter ensued as I attempted that but found the momentary lapse of focus led my hands to forget the pattern.
By the time we were an hour into the session – half way through – people’s confidence and energy had risen so much there’d be ‘woo hoos’ and clapping, which added further to the hand tingling.
After a while, to enjoy a different perspective, Kimberly encouraged us to change places. From the new vantage point in the circle I could see my former neighbour Yvonne with a beaming smile, looking very comfortable with the beat she was contributing. It did feel remarkable to have created such a powerful rhythm within such a short space of time.
“Remember the great gifts that rhythm has to offer us – for our mind, body and spirit,” said Kimberley as the session drew to a close.
I left feeling not just energised but unexpectedly serene and although the communal music had stopped, my heart was very much singing.
Story by Fiona Terry for the Summer 2024 issue of AA Directions Magazine. Fiona Terry is a freelance writer who regularly contributes to AA Directions magazine.
