On Saturday I was invited to participate in a healing drum circle.

I was thrilled, but, having never attended an event like this, I had no idea what to expect. “What do you wear to a healing drum circle?” I asked my friend who went with me. “Should we bring wine?”

It turned out to be a beautiful evening with beautiful people.

There were about 15 of us there and our leader was a woman named Gayle – a shaman, sacred drum maker, artist and throat singer. She had brought a number of different drums to play that evening, all strung and painted by her own hands and each infused with its own powerful story and offering its own unique sound.

As she beat each drum and sang we would sit in meditation. She told us that for many people, the drums evoke visions and that we should tune in and be open to whatever came up for us. She said we would share our experiences with the group after each drum.

The second drum she played was a horse drum. She said that the skin of the drum depicted the shadows of horses and the sound it made was like beating hooves. Before she began she asked us to invite the horses into our meditation as she beat the drum. She explained that, as she played, she would come around to each of us and use the drum to “cut us from the herd.”

“Pay attention,” she instructed, “to what happens next.”

I wished she’d given more direction. What exactly was I supposed to see? How was I supposed to conjure up this image? What was supposed to happen?

We closed our eyes and she began to beat the horse drum.

My mind immediately picked up the sound of the beating hooves and I could see myself on the back of a dark brown horse, in the middle of a stampeding herd, racing across the New Mexico dessert. Even though my eyes were closed, when she came around to me, I could sense her energy in front of me and I could feel the beat of the drum deep in my chest as she “cut me from the herd.”

I was all set to tear off across the dessert alone on my mighty steed, wind in my hair, exhilarated by the power beneath me.

But that’s not what happened.

Instead, my horse began to slow down, first to a trot, then to a walk – and then he just stopped.

Right there in the middle of the dessert.

I got off and walked around to his head. I put my hands on his cheeks and looked into his big brown eyes. I could feel his hot breath on my stomach. I ran my fingers down his soft, velvety nose and pressed my forehead against his, wrapping my arms around his neck. And we just stood there.

“I’m doing this wrong,” I thought to myself.

“I’m clearly supposed to be having some vision of galloping on a horse. This is obviously supposed to be about tapping into your internal fire and energy and courage and here I am, standing on the ground, hugging this horse…I’m absolutely doing this wrong.”

When the drumming stopped we slowly opened our eyes and Gayle asked if anyone want to share what they’d seen.

I certainly didn’t.

Some brave souls immediately put up their hands.

People began telling stories of charging across open fields, flying through the air on winged horses, and epic battles fought on horseback.

“I knew I’d done it wrong,” I thought. “I’m absolutely not sharing my boring vision with these people or this wise woman. What will they think of me?”

But, for some reason, after a few people had shared their incredible, heroic, larger-than-life stories, I put up my hand.

“Okay,” I began. “I saw something totally different.” I went on to explain my lacklustre vision. “I have NO idea what that means,” I chuckled.

Gayle smiled at me. “It means that while everyone else was caught up in the energy of galloping across the fields, you were grounded; you were connected to the soul of that horse.”

I was stunned.

But as soon as she said it it was so clear to me what the vision had meant. Slowing down and being grounded and connected – to the people I support through my practice, my family and friends, and to myself – is something that I’m constantly striving for.

For me those are soul food.

When I slow down and get grounded in the earth and connected – both to the world and lives around me, and to my own higher self – I’m able to tap into the quiet but wise and knowing voice inside of me. I’m able to hear it and trust it. I’m able to make healthy choices that nourish me in every way.

But when I’m racing and not grounded, when I’m out of connection – out of alignment – with my higher self, that’s when I criticize and second guess myself (“you’re doing it wrong”). That’s the place where self-consciousness, judgement and fear set in and where I become vulnerable to all of the poor eating habits that I’ve worked so hard to change.

Being grounded and connected is what I crave more than anything and what I know with every fiber of my body to be the true path to a rich life, a full life and a life no longer governed by food cravings.

It was exactly the vision and the reminder I needed.

I’d done it just right.