Hearing The Drum Beat

Yesterday one of my readers took me to task for the way I ended my last blog.

I wrote “I am not sure I am hearing a different drummer or any drummer at all right now”.

She wrote “O for Christ’s sake, what a depressing conclusion.  No drummer at all?  Have you not had days during which an entire drum circle was competing for your focus”?

I deserved the criticism.

For what it is worth, I am not bi-polar but I am subject to mood swings.  I can move back and forth between ecstasy and agony at a moments notice.  I tend to be a sensitive person which is both a gift and a curse.  My best moments are what I call Zen moments.  My worst moments are when I feel depressed and sorry for myself.  In most of my life the Zen moments dominate.

I love drums.  In high school I had a set of drums and occasionally jammed with other people.  Most of my life I’ve owned some type of percussion instrument.  When I am alone in my car I am often drumming on my steering wheel as I play music.  Once I attended a “Wild Man” retreat.  Part of the experience was a drum circle.  With a natural talent for drumming I quickly became one of the leaders and participants in the drum circle.  Some of my favorite memories are going to Grateful Dead concerts with my friends.  As soon as you got out of your car you could hear the sound of drumming in the distance.  If you have never been to a Grateful Dead concert, the parking lot scene was quite an experience.  People played drums everywhere.  The aromas of cooking food and other substances filled the air.  Freaky people were everywhere.  I fit right in.

No drummer at all?  The reality is that my head is full of the sounds of drums and other percussion.  I love bands like Santana and Talking Heads who have lots of drums and percussion.  I miss Grateful Dead concerts.

Last summer I saw the band U2 for the first time.  They were awesome.  Let me end with the lyrics to one of my favorite U2 songs called Some Days Are Better Than Others.  

Some days are dry, some days are leaky
Some days come clean, other days are sneaky
Some days take less, but most days take more
Some slip through your fingers and onto the floor.

Some days you’re quick, but most days you’re speedy
Some days you use more force than is necessary
Some days just drop in on us
Some days are better than others.

Some days it all adds up
And what you got is not enough
Some days are better than others.

Some days are slippy, others days sloppy
Some days you can’t stand the sight of a puppy
Your skin is white but you think you’re a brother
Some days are better than others.

Some days you wake up with her complaining
Some sunny days you wish it was raining
Some days are sulky, some days have a grin
And some days are better than others.

Some days you hear a voice
Taking you to another place
Some days are better than others.

Some days you are honest, some days are not
Some days you are thankful for what you’ve got
Some days you wake up in the army
And some days it’s the enemy.

Some days are work, most days you are lazy
Some days you feel like a bit of a baby
Looking for Jesus and his mother
Some days are better than others.

Some days you feel ahead
You’re making sense of what she said
Some days are better than others.

Some days you hear a voice
Taking you to another place
Some days are better than others.