CD single version (a quick read)
I’ve been hanging out with sacred sound for 18 years. I have an extensive background in shamanism. And I have a master’s level certification in this sound stuff.
Sound has shifted stuff for me. A lot. That’s one reason I know that sound can shift stuff for you too.
I’ve worked with hundreds of people from all around the world with all different kinds of stuck. Sound has shifted stuff for them too. That’s another reason I know that sound can shift stuff for you.
I do what I do because I love it and it works.
I’m most comfortable in a Bob Marley t-shirt and Chuck Taylors.
I live in Ohio, with my wife, two bunnies and too much tea.
When I was 9, I was pretty sure I was going to marry Cyndi Lauper.
Double disc box set with liner notes (not so quick, but way funnier)
Music and sound have been a huge part of life since… well, since forever. For as long as I can remember, sound has always been a part of my world. Without thinking. Without fail. It’s just always been there.
I feel like my life has had its own soundtrack. A mix of mish-mashed songs that made me laugh or cry or do some serious shaky-butt.
When I was a kid, Michael Jackson rocked my world. His Thriller album got a lot of airtime in my house. Billie Jean drove me to perfect the moonwalk. Which I did, complete with white glove, silver parachute pants and red zipper-ey jacket. (I was totally committed.)
My enthusiasm for Michael Jackson ended abruptly after a t-shirt featuring the cover of Thriller put me in the crosshairs of some bullies at school. Apparently, it was uncool to like Michael Jackson. And apparently, I didn’t get the memo.
Do you remember the song Take On Me by Norwegian pop powerhouse A-ha? When it would come on at the skating rink, my adrenaline would surge. There I was – tight jeans, feathered hair, lots of attitude – racing around the rink, doing more tricks than Harry Houdini.
It’s been ages since I’ve set foot in the hallowed halls of Castle Skateland, but I still have flashbacks every time I hear that song. And that video? Are you kidding me? Three words - Blew. My. Mind. (Gimme a break. It was 1985. That whole live action/animation thing was groundbreaking at the time.)
When I was twelve, I met the music of The Smiths. I was at the pool with Missy, a neighbor with great taste in music and a penchant for mustard sandwiches. She popped the Strangeways, Here We Come cassette into the boombox and that was it. Morrissey had me at hello. My entire adolescence felt like one long Smith’s song.
And how could I forget the song After All? My first real girlfriend and I claimed this sappy, overplayed love child of Peter Cetera and Cher as our song. In our defense, we were a) 13 and b) obviously caught in the spell cast by this song’s lyrical sorcery. After all these stops and starts, we keep coming back to these two hearts… Anyone would be powerless against that kind of mojo.
Music still rocks my world. Even more than it did when I was a kid.
Aqua’s classic Barbie Girl, with its perfect mix of satirical lyrics and shake-your-money-maker rhythms, makes me laugh so hard that I snort. Every time. No matter how many times I’ve heard it. Which has to be into the thousands by now.
Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment by the Ramones is a staple in my morning routine. Full of get-er-done juice, this song gets my body moving when my brain is stuck in first gear. Rocky had Eye Of The Tiger. I have the Ramones. (Hey! Ho! Let’s go!)
A couple of years ago, when my wife was really sick, and things were really scary, the Hanuman Chalisa, sung by Krishna Das on his Flow of Grace CD literally got me through this crazy difficult experience. There were days when I was so scared that I’d just hold my breath in response to the fear. I had a few particularly hard moments when I felt like I was about to cave under the fear and the ick and the unknown. The Hanuman Chalisa gave me something to hold onto. It gave me a foundation when mine was shaky.
Every time I hear Joan Baez sing House of the Rising Sun I think about my dad. Though he passed on a lot of years ago, I remember how passionately he talked about this song, how hard it was for him to talk passionately about pretty much anything and how vital music can be in keeping passion alive.
And when I’m in a totally crazy mood, I will spontaneously break into a rousing rendition of I’m Too Sexy For My Shirt by Right Said Fred. (I’ll be your best friend if you keep that a secret.)
Music’s been a friend for a long time. I can’t imagine my life without it.
I’ve been hanging out with sound as a transformative presence for the last 18 years. It all started with a hoop drum. Now I’m surrounded by more instruments than I can count and, more than ever before, I’m filled with a deep appreciation of just how much sound rocks.
Through my own experience, and my work with other folks, I’ve come to know sound as an amazing medium for healing, growth and transformation. The basic idea behind what I do is sound shifts stuff.
A few years ago, I found myself in a really difficult place. A couple of hard happenings had dovetailed together, and I was stuck. Critically stuck. I felt broken and scared. And I was pretty sure there was no way to fix this.
To make things way more frustrating, I could barely get the stuck to budge. At least not for very long. Despite my experience with sacred sound. Despite all the work I’ve done with other people. I couldn’t fix it by myself. I needed some help.
So I went to a friend – an amazing drummer. He drummed like there was no tomorrow. After my session, I felt an immediate shift. I felt different. I looked different. No more stuck. No more broken. No more hopeless.
And in a few months, my life had totally changed. Much happy dancing ensued.
So, I know this stuff works. Not just because I’ve done it with hundreds of people, and have seen hundreds of great big huge shifts. I know it works because I’ve experienced the power of sacred sound myself. First hand. From the inside out.
And I continue to experience it every single day.
When I’m stuck, or need to get my bearings, or am feeling overwhelmed, I turn to sound. When I forget who I am, or why I’m here, I turn to sound. When I’m lost, or in pain, I turn to sound.
Because I know that sacred sound shifts stuck and struggle like nothing else I’ve ever seen.
The reason I do this work – the reason I’m so cuckoo-for-Cocoa-Puffs passionate about this work – is because it shifts stuff! Little everyday stuff. Big life stuff. Great big soul stuff. Sacred sound shifts stuff. For real and for good.
And ultimately, I’m a pragmatic dude. I do what works.
This works.
Yeah, but are you qualified?
You want experience. You want credentials. You want someone with a fierce fashion sense.
I have two out of three.
Let’s start with my experience…
I’ve been doing this sacred sound thing for a long time. 18 years to be exact. That’s the same amount of time that I’ve been studying shamanism, which is where I first ran into sound as an agent of transformation and general awesomeness.
Shamanism comes in a wide variety of flavors. But no matter whether you’re talking about Siberian shamanism, African shamanism or Amazonian shamanism, you’ll find a deep and vital awareness of the power of sound. From the Yoruba to the Shuar, sound is at the roots of the shamanic experience.
Shamanism connected me to drumming. Drumming connected me to sacred sound.
With hoop drum in hand, and a skeptical-but-open mind, I realized that by drumming I could connect to things way bigger than me. I also realized that I could change how I felt when I changed the way I drummed.
So I drummed. A lot. Wherever I was, whatever I was doing, however I felt, I drummed. That’s how I started to get a feel for this sacred sound thing.
Ten years ago, my study of shamanism deepened when I met an extraordinary elder from Africa – Chief Adebolu Fatunmise. Baba Bolu graciously accepted me as his student. He allowed me to learn from him, to be initiated by him, to be accepted into his family.
Baba Bolu isn’t just a respected elder. He’s also an accomplished musician. I’ve had the good fortune to hear Baba make music – to listen to him play the drum and sing songs from his tradition. The first time I heard Baba drum, I felt like I had come home. Something within me woke up that day.
Knowing Baba has been an honor. Baba hasn’t just taught me about his tradition, or woken me up with his drumming. He’s helped to make me a better person. He’s taught me about good character and about service. He’s taught me about meeting people where they are, and doing everything you can to help them to be in a better place when they leave than they were in when they arrived.
As I approach two decades of exploring sacred sound, I’ve spent thousands of hours playing and listening and playing some more. I’ve had the good fortune to work with people from all around the world. People from all walks of life. People in all different kinds of situations. People with small problems, big problems and great big problems.
In every single case, I’ve witnessed sacred sound help in some way.
I have seen people experience an awe-inspiring amount of change in an hour or two. I’ve also watched people slowly but surely overcome lifelong challenges through the power of sound. I’ve seen one life after another transformed. That’s a hundred kinds of awesome. That’s why I do this.
As far as certifications go, I got ‘em.
I have completed all levels of Toby Christensen’s Five Element Sound Healing course, and have received my level 1, level 2 and master’s level certificates from Toby.
And that master’s certification is nothing to sneeze at. To get it, I had to submit a pile of case studies for review, documenting my process and the results my clients got.
Other stuff I dig
When I’m not drumming drums and gonging gongs, I love art. I’ve painted since I was a pollywog. I also love to cook. I’m a published author currently in negotiations with the Muse about future books. And I regularly host workshops on sacred sound, shamanism and other stuff I love.
I live in southern Ohio, with my wife, two wildly over-indulged bunnies and way more tea than any one human being should ever have.
FabeWHO? (Or “Dude, what’s up with your name?”)
Fabeku Fatunmise.
I know. It’s a mouthful. A great big tongue-twisting, huh-inducing mouthful.
One of the most common questions I get is, “How, for the love of all that’s good and holy, do you pronounce your name?”
It’s easier than it looks.
fah-BAY-koo
fah-too-MEE-shay
Altogether now…
fah-BAY-koo fah-too-MEE-shay
Would it be easier if you heard it? Cool.
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See? It’s totally easier than it looks.
And if you mispronounce my name when you call, or when we meet, no worries. It happens a lot. I’m totally used to it. And totally ok with it. Honest.
6 totally random facts about me
- I like ninjas. A lot. (I wanted to be one, but I didn’t meet the height requirement.)
- I can’t stand oatmeal. I actually have to leave the room when someone else is eating it. (It’s a texture thing.)
- When I was 9, I was pretty sure I was going to marry Cyndi Lauper.
- I am absolutely addicted to obsessed with crazy about chocolate. (Dagoba’s Xocolatl is my favorite. Dark chocolate and chilies. Mmm.)
- I had nightmares for years after watching Silence of the Lambs.
- When I was 5, misplaced curiosity almost got me pulled into a spider monkey’s cage at Tiki Gardens in Florida. (It’s a long story.)