It's been more than two months since I started learning to play the taiko with the Tawoo group with Kaoly Asano as our teacher. I experienced the therapeutic effect of playing the taiko the first time I came to one of their practice sessions, but it took me more than three months to write about my subsequent experiences with them. I had wondered what held me back, besides the usual busy-ness of a modern lifestyle, and it became clear that this experience has affected me so deeply in my core that I have been in the process of integrating it into my life on very many levels.
Some of the therapeutic benefits of taiko are quite obvious and perhaps ubiquitous to other forms of drumming as well, like the rhythmic energy that is stirred in the body and the coordination of body and mind. Because taiko is played together by a large number of people, the vibration and rhythm created by some forty people practicing together is so powerful and so direct that every cell in the body seems to be awaken, alive, and in sync with each beat.
But above all, I am most deeply moved by and filled with gratitude for the way that Kaoly teaches, for she teaches not only the skill and art of taiko drumming, but the art of living. True to all traditional Japanese art forms, especially those that end with "dou" (道), is the universality of its truths and its applicability to life. The character "dou" literally means path or way. Taiko's historical place in Japan lies in its inseparability from "matsuri" (Japanese festivals) and Shinto rites, and although its practice is not considered a "dou," Kaoly teaches it as one. In fact, the name of her taiko school, Tawoo, is Kaoly's choice of romanization of the word 道.
How can we play with ease? How do we allow sound and energy to flow through us? How can we be with our limitations? These are questions that Kaoly raises and strives to help each one of us find answers to through the taiko. She patiently watches over everyone and shares in our joy and laughter. I have a knowing that not only am I learning how to do these things with the taiko, but that this is the opportunity to practice how to live life with ease, how to stay open to experiences and allow them to flow through me, and how to unconditionally accept myself with gentle lovingness and kindness.
Some of the therapeutic benefits of taiko are quite obvious and perhaps ubiquitous to other forms of drumming as well, like the rhythmic energy that is stirred in the body and the coordination of body and mind. Because taiko is played together by a large number of people, the vibration and rhythm created by some forty people practicing together is so powerful and so direct that every cell in the body seems to be awaken, alive, and in sync with each beat.
But above all, I am most deeply moved by and filled with gratitude for the way that Kaoly teaches, for she teaches not only the skill and art of taiko drumming, but the art of living. True to all traditional Japanese art forms, especially those that end with "dou" (道), is the universality of its truths and its applicability to life. The character "dou" literally means path or way. Taiko's historical place in Japan lies in its inseparability from "matsuri" (Japanese festivals) and Shinto rites, and although its practice is not considered a "dou," Kaoly teaches it as one. In fact, the name of her taiko school, Tawoo, is Kaoly's choice of romanization of the word 道.
How can we play with ease? How do we allow sound and energy to flow through us? How can we be with our limitations? These are questions that Kaoly raises and strives to help each one of us find answers to through the taiko. She patiently watches over everyone and shares in our joy and laughter. I have a knowing that not only am I learning how to do these things with the taiko, but that this is the opportunity to practice how to live life with ease, how to stay open to experiences and allow them to flow through me, and how to unconditionally accept myself with gentle lovingness and kindness.
