The World Drum played a major part at the UK Shamanic Conference : Dancing the Magic of Change, which was held from 4th – 7th September 2008 at Gaunts House, Dorset in the UK.

We were fortunate to be able to host the world drum at this conference, with nearly 100 people present, for the UK branch of the Society for Shamanic Practitioners.

We set the drum up in the beautiful library at Gaunts House, on a deerskin with a crystal from a cave deep within the mountains of Wales so that it might become accustomed to the ancient energies of these lands.  Many people came to sit with the drum feeling the peace that emanated from it, to dance with the drum, to bring their drums to the drum, to smudge the drum and of course to dream with the drum.  And many were the dreams that came.

We planned to hold a ceremony for the drum on our last day.
This ceremony also needed to incorporate our gratitude to our Mother the Earth for all the abundance that had come our way during the conference.
Gratitude for the holding, the many teachings, the journeys and ceremonies and gifts from
Spirit; the fine foods and restful accommodation and of course the many warm
meetings between us all.

Our prayers were also sent to the leaders of all our communities and governments that they might have the eyes to see and the ears to hear the need for Mother Earth to be honoured and revered not raped thoughtlessly.

We realised that we needed to give our prayers some physical form and remembered the ancient custom of tying cluties or small rags onto trees that overlooked wells.
Generally this is done when healing is being asked for, but we thought at this time we could put other prayers into our little cloths.  But where to get the cloths?
Having asked around for a while and found a rather plain and uninteresting ball of string,
Annie went to fetch the world drum to a new location for the night.
No sooner had she entered the room than others appeared and it was clear that the drum was not ready for quietness yet.
So she settled down to wait and soon was telling the story of her search.
A woman there offered her shirt.  Your shirt?
Yes, she would be happy to have a good shirt cut up into strips for such an act of beauty.
In the presence of the drum this scheme grew and soon we were happily blessing our knives and cutting up cotton shirts, silk shirts, bandanas and getting more and more uproarious,
naming ourselves the strip club – and all in the presence of the drum which seemed to be drawing the best out of us and turning a small job into a great celebration of life.

The next morning, Annie and Leo went out in search of a tree for the cluties.
Hardly had they begun their search than a hazel caught their eye.
Into the hedge, over fence and nettles and brambles they went, gave their offerings and soon the hazel had given up a fine branch with fresh green leaves dancing around it.