Grateful

On this quiet Thanksgiving day, it seems right to reflect on the many aspects of being a music therapist for which I'm grateful. 


Since I've just returned from a trip to Atlanta where I participated in the national music therapy conference, it's one of the things that's very  much on my mind (oops! That was very "Georgia On My Mind" there, wasn't it?). To that end, I'm sending out a big thank you to all the folks at the American Music Therapy Association (AMTA) as well as the conference chair-people and numerous volunteers for the huge amount of work that went into putting together a conference of this size! It was a great conference, and I truly enjoyed being there.


I'm also appreciative of the fact that I had the opportunity to meet many of the large collection of music therapists I've gotten to know through their blogs, tweets and list-serv postings in person. Even though I've been a part of this field for quite a long time, it was a comfort to be a part of an already existing online community, many of whom would be at the conference.  Now I can imagine all of your faces and voices as I read your online thoughts! Yay!


A particularly cool element of all that was having the opportunity to be a participant in a social media as music therapy advocacy tool panel, conceived by Kimberly Sena Moore, and joined by Michelle Erfurt, Michelle Strutzel, Matt Logan, Kat Fulton, Sarah Sendlbeck, Meryl Brown, Rachel Rambach, and Bill Matney. What a joy to be with this articulate and energetic group of professionals!


The renegade jam session (for those of us who can not function after 11 PM) was a lot of fun, and we sang and played our collective hearts out in a quieter corner of the giant hotel. 


As I gradually transition back to my usual hectic schedule (not to be confused with the completely crazy conference schedule! Yow!), I extend gratitude for the fact that I have a job and work with clients who, even after almost 24 years, challenge me to learn and grow and get better at serving them. And nowadays I get to add my supervisees to the list of folks who help me think and invite me to push the limits of my knowledge.


My co-workers at the developmental center also inspire my appreciation. We have struggled together to understand what might be going on when our clients try to convey their distress. At times we've sung and laughed and  at times we've cried together. We don't have an easy job, and, at this point, I don't think we'd really want one.


I'm thankful for the happiness that comes with playing music (either by myself or with other like-minded folks), and when people say, "wow, you're really lucky," I have to say, "Yes! Yes, I am!" 


Happy Thanksgiving to you all. May you also feel lucky and fulfilled in your chosen profession!

Thank you!

I want to interrupt this (not so) regularly scheduled blog to thank you, kind readers! My follower list just hit the big 50! 

(And, with any luck, in five more years, so will I!)

Image via Wikipedia

Welcome to all of you, and thanks so much for supporting the Mindful Music Therapist!

Thank you and a preview

Well! 


First, I want to express my deepest appreciation to all you kind souls who follow my periodic blather. I am humbled by your willingness to allow me to share mental space with you- especially in this world of perpetual information and overwhelming amounts of weblife! Truly. Thank you!


Second, as some of you who are music therapists in the United States know, the American Music Therapy Association (AMTA) and the Certification Board for Music Therapy (CBMT) have designated January 2011 as the month in which they've invited those of us who spend way too much time online to make a commitment to address music therapy advocacy in our various blogs and podcasts.


Neat, huh? 


What the heck is "music therapy advocacy" (you may well be asking)? Well, here are a whole lot of blogs you can go to in order to find out:

• Beyond the Music (blogger: Michelle Strutzel)
• Developmental Community Music (blogger: Kalani)
• Eclectic Guitar (blogger: Sara Sendlbeck)
• Key Changes Music Therapy (blogger: Natalie Mullis)
• Listen & Learn Music (blogger: Rachel Rambach)
• Mindful Music Therapist (blogger: Roia Rafieyan) (Hey! That's me!)
• More with Music (blogger: Amanda Ellis)
• Mundana Music Therapy (bloggers: Megan Resig and Kimberly Thompson)
• Music For Special Kids (blogger: Pamela Ott)
• Music Sparks (blogger: JoAnn Jordan)
• Music Therapy Drumming (bloggers: Bill Matney and Mike Marcionetti) 
• Music Therapy Maven (blogger: Kimberly Sena Moore)
• Music Therapy Research Blog podcast (co-hosts: Blythe LaGasee and Andrew Knight)
• Music Therapy Round Table podcast (co-hosts: Michelle Erfurt, Rachel Rambach, Kimberly Sena Moore)
• Music Therapy Source (blogger: Matt Logan)
• Music Therapy Tween (blogger: Michelle Erfurt)
• Revolution Rhythm (blogger: Jason Armstrong Baker)
• Rhythm For Good (blogger: Kat Fulton)
• Rhythmic Mind (blogger: Stephanie Kuester)
• The Music Therapy Show with Janice Harris (host: Janice Harris)

I invite you to read our blogs and listen to our podcasts and find out ways that you too can be a music therapy advocate. 


I'll be posting my thoughts and ideas about this topic tomorrow (I know! Two posts in a row? Wow! It's a miracle!), so I'm going to go and write that now, and I'll see you back here shortly!

The big comfy couch incident

Image by SimplySchmoopie via FlickrWell! Work, this morning, was a bit crazy (to put it mildly). 


Both the 9 AM and 10:30 AM groups were either getting ready to take part in or getting ready to watch the big Halloween parade at our facility (which is actually pretty cool- a local high school marching band comes, there are costumes, people bring their dogs, their babies, etc.). 


There was all kinds of flurry and insanity, what with trying to get the guys/gals outfitted with their various costumes and such. There was annoyance, there was attitude, there was drama...well, you know how it goes.


Now, mind you, the guys in the second group weren't actually going to be in the parade. We were just working on getting chairs outside and guys assembled in heavy sweatshirts and caps (it was cold out there today!) so we could all watch before the parade, er, passed us by (as the saying goes). 


Mercifully, we got ourselves all out there in time, caught the all-too-brief parade, cheered loudly for the guys who had gone to boldly march in their costumes (the cottage had gone as race-cars, and they were all sporting their "cars" with frames draped over their shoulders- it was pretty nifty), and managed to get everyone safely back inside with only one incident report having to be filled out (um, that was me, because one of the guys who used to love watching parades and being in the middle of the action...well. He wasn't in that good of a mood to be moved around. My deepest apologies to R for my misunderstanding.)


To put it mildly, we were all shot!


I went to join E on a big, mushy couch, because he seemed to have been out of sorts all week, and I just wanted to check on him. We've known each other for 22 years. To not check on him would have been totally rude. 


So E and I were just sitting there, hanging out and decompressing from the morning's events, and T came over and decided to join us. 


Now, the reason this is news (and very cool) is that T's usual approach to sitting on couches is to shove whoever is on the couch off. This is usually accomplished by pressing his fingers firmly into the back of the person's head, but bopping people over the head has also been employed at various times. 


But he didn't do that. T came over, sat on the other side of me (I was in the middle), and he took my hand, carefully, and he held it for about five minutes. Then he smiled, got up, and continued walking around the room


Now, that's what I'm talking about!

Is this the end?

I had a strange experience today.  I actually had to say to one of my clients that we’ve gone about as far as we can go.  I didn’t want to have to say that to him, but it’s true.  We’ve worked together for about 19 years, and there really isn’t much else I can offer him other than my presence.  

It’s not as if he doesn’t have issues (I mean, who doesn’t have issues?).  It’s mostly that he seems to be letting me know that we aren’t going to be doing any more music therapy.  I can’t say I blame the man.  How much therapy can a person stand in his lifetime (well, some of us can stand a lot, I guess)?

I’m not sure whether he’s ready to actually stop coming to sessions.   I’m fairly certain he values our relationship a great deal.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him rush up to other people and take their elbows and pull them to the door.  And I know I’m not the only person who takes him out of the cottage.  

I’m not sure how I feel about this.    

As it happens I just said “goodbye” to another long-term client (admittedly, since it’s an institution, the majority of my work with people is long-term...VERY long-term) who has been gradually moving toward ending in the past three or four years.  I still run into him regularly, because I work with other people in his cottage (which has to be weird for him- I know it’s weird for me).  In the last month or so, as we’ve gone from sessions to checking in to just saying “hi,” he’s needed to avoid me.  It hurts to be rejected, but I understand that he needs to do that.  

We had an amazing last session.  We didn’t exactly plan for it to be The Last Music Therapy Session, but I think we both knew it was.  It was joyful, it was celebratory, and it was moving.  Considering this particular person has not been feeling physically well for a rather long time, it seemed clear to me that he and I were absolutely in sync on this closing.  He was more animated during this ending session than I’ve seen him be in almost a year.   It felt to me as if he had the kind of goodbye he might have liked to have had when his family sent him off to live at our facility (back when he was a youngster- he’s in his 40s now).  

I so value both of these men.  They have allowed me into their lives, they’ve used the music, they’ve grown, and they are loving, sensitive guys who care about other people.  Both men also enjoy laughter and playfulness.  What wonderful gifts they bring with them (and they have shared with me) as they move on from our time together!  And what a collection of feelings- joy, sadness, pride, excitement, and a bit of nervousness- I feel as I begin to let them go.  

"How could I be anything but grateful?"

Some days are the pits, and some days there’s that one moment when it all counts.  W and I were walking out of the Music Room, and I asked him if he would shut the door behind him (which I always do).  He did (which he always does), and we were walking down the hallway, and I suddenly realized he was looking at me and smiling.  It was one of those beautiful smiles with his whole entire face.  It was a very gratifying moment.  

P.S.  As soon as I get a fairly decent version of my song “At the End of the Day” recorded I’ll add it in here.

Healing touch

I will not lie to you.  I went to work in a very unhappy state today.  It wasn’t anything to do with work, and I made every effort (as I always do) to keep my focus on the people in my sessions.  As you can imagine, by the end of the day, I was fading a bit, and it was sort of hard to stop my sadness.

My last session of the day is with two gentlemen (M and G, both of whom I like very much) who experience life on the autism spectrum.  We had had a tough time in the previous week, because M kicked G on Monday and then he kicked me on Thursday, and G and I were both sporting bruised shins.  G, on the other hand, tends to scream very loudly on occasion (with a tendency to be near one’s ears when he does so).  So, of course, when we started there were reminders to try to use words and musical sounds to express any frustration or distress rather than kicking and screaming as a means to make salient points (thank you very much).  [Hm, I just noticed that together M and G do, in fact, kick and scream.  They do this separately, mind you, but how interesting that they ended up in the same session together.   What a very nifty new thing to know.  Anyway...]

G has a hard time staying with us for the duration of the session (although he usually hovers nearby or returns to check back in to our space in the back hallway of the cottage).  M, on the other hand, likes to draw while we work (I think because it helps him to focus on the session more effectively and less directly).  

Well, something about G’s hovering today triggered the sadness with which I’d started the day, and I had to pause for a moment.   I rested both of my hands on the table and looked across it to M, who suddenly stopped what he was doing, put the pen down, reached out and enveloped both of my hands with his, looking at me quietly.  Then he went back to his drawing.  

It was such a sweet and kind gesture, and I knew that he understood that I was sad, and he wanted to offer me comfort (which he did).  I thanked him for his thoughtfulness, and we continued on peacefully for the rest of the session.