In days of old we didn't have psychotherapists. We had the Drum.

We sweated and moved to the pulsing rhythms, scantily clad and painted. We felt the cool earth beneath our bare feet as we watched the woes of the day dissolve into ash through cathartic flames of fire. We danced our inexplicable thoughts, we sang our yearnings, we yelled out our frustrations to the watchful moon under the canopies of trees.

In a culture where we have probably never been so disconnected with nature, with ... read more

When Eve felt the serpent crawling up her back and neck she suddenly became aware of her body. ‘I feel like a Goddess,’ she thought. ‘And that feeling is so sensual and beautiful and wonderful. I feel like I want to slither like the serpent over the tree and rub my hands through it’s rough bark and clasp the leaves in my mouth. In fact –‘ there, dangling sparkled and crimson, hung the apple – ‘I think I’m just going to bite into that.’

And she took it in her mouth and bit like a child int... read more