I didn't say it specifically in the video, but I think my whole countertransference reaction was very much about feeling a sense of powerlessness - my own ("I can't fix it for you, and I hate that.") as well as what I believe was my client's experience ("I feel abandoned and forgotten and unable to change my life.").
Showing posts with label video journaling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label video journaling. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Music and countertransference
If you're a person who has been reading this blog, then you know I make liberal use of songs that emerge as a part of music therapy sessions (a couple of other examples can be found here and here). The way I think of these countertransference songs is as a form of unconscious communication that's going on between therapist and client- the stuff that's not being said.
Obviously, since the vast majority of my clients don't use speech, it would stand to reason that these songs are a particularly helpful (and necessary) aspect of the work.
So, I've been thinking a lot about one of my clients who has been falling asleep in his sessions lately. He gets tired from his medications, I think, but he also doesn't tend to sleep particularly well (a lot of my clients don't).
At any rate, it seemed to me as if there was more to it than just being tired (I'll explain in a second). I mean, sometimes he'd look fairly wakeful, want to come for his session, get to the room, go lie on the couch (I know, I know, how Freudian can you get?) and suddenly he was exhausted.
Hey, man. I know how it goes. I've been there before when there's stuff I'm having a hard time looking at- I start journaling about some difficult issue, and suddenly...I need a nap. I get it.
Anyway, here's something that completely fascinated me about our sessions: for the longest time, whenever I played an improvisation in his sessions, I'd think, "Wow! That was gorgeous! I must write down some of those chords, because they'd be great to play around with when I'm writing a song!" And I'd quickly write down the chords, and then, after the session, I'd play them, and what the hey? They never sounded quite the same after my client left. They were nice, but there was something...missing, and it just...didn't sound right.
After a while of this unusual musical situation happening over and over and over (hey- these things take time!) I started to wonder, "What is this about? Why the heck is this happening?" And I realized this was some kind of countertransference, so I started to talk about it with my client, trying to enlist his assistance in figuring out what he might be needing me to hear (through the music that was only beautiful during our sessions but never afterward).
I've spent the last couple of months with the following working hypotheses:
1) Maybe he feels like he has to put on a nice, happy face because somehow he's gotten the idea that this is what people in his life want from him (can't imagine where he could possibly have gotten that message).
2) Maybe he only feels as if he's "beautiful" when he's in music therapy.
Of course, I could be wrong about all of it, but these are what I started working with and bringing up in sessions. So, I started talking about this with him. And the more I talked about this, the more he'd get to snoozing!
Think I hit a nerve? I think so.
As you can imagine, he and I have been stumbling along now, and somewhere back in May, we were in a session together, and I suddenly heard the lyrics of this song (Joni Mitchell's "Trouble Child") enter my mind. And, as always, as I mentally sang through the song, I thought, "Hunh! This is worth giving a joint listen."
Interestingly, it's taken a while for us to actually get through the whole song in a session (did I mention he keeps falling asleep?). And as soon as I share the lyrics with you, you'll see why.
[I debated whether to use my version of the song or the original, and I opted for mine- but linked Joni's version- because it's about the therapy and the use of songs to have a deeper understanding of our clients. I'd add a lot of disclaimers, but they're not going to be of much use to any of us, so here it is. I had to cut out all of my blabbering because I talked for too long, so that's why it sounds as if I started in mid-sentence.]
Obviously, since the vast majority of my clients don't use speech, it would stand to reason that these songs are a particularly helpful (and necessary) aspect of the work.
So, I've been thinking a lot about one of my clients who has been falling asleep in his sessions lately. He gets tired from his medications, I think, but he also doesn't tend to sleep particularly well (a lot of my clients don't).
At any rate, it seemed to me as if there was more to it than just being tired (I'll explain in a second). I mean, sometimes he'd look fairly wakeful, want to come for his session, get to the room, go lie on the couch (I know, I know, how Freudian can you get?) and suddenly he was exhausted.
Hey, man. I know how it goes. I've been there before when there's stuff I'm having a hard time looking at- I start journaling about some difficult issue, and suddenly...I need a nap. I get it.
Anyway, here's something that completely fascinated me about our sessions: for the longest time, whenever I played an improvisation in his sessions, I'd think, "Wow! That was gorgeous! I must write down some of those chords, because they'd be great to play around with when I'm writing a song!" And I'd quickly write down the chords, and then, after the session, I'd play them, and what the hey? They never sounded quite the same after my client left. They were nice, but there was something...missing, and it just...didn't sound right.
After a while of this unusual musical situation happening over and over and over (hey- these things take time!) I started to wonder, "What is this about? Why the heck is this happening?" And I realized this was some kind of countertransference, so I started to talk about it with my client, trying to enlist his assistance in figuring out what he might be needing me to hear (through the music that was only beautiful during our sessions but never afterward).
I've spent the last couple of months with the following working hypotheses:
1) Maybe he feels like he has to put on a nice, happy face because somehow he's gotten the idea that this is what people in his life want from him (can't imagine where he could possibly have gotten that message).
2) Maybe he only feels as if he's "beautiful" when he's in music therapy.
Of course, I could be wrong about all of it, but these are what I started working with and bringing up in sessions. So, I started talking about this with him. And the more I talked about this, the more he'd get to snoozing!
Think I hit a nerve? I think so.
As you can imagine, he and I have been stumbling along now, and somewhere back in May, we were in a session together, and I suddenly heard the lyrics of this song (Joni Mitchell's "Trouble Child") enter my mind. And, as always, as I mentally sang through the song, I thought, "Hunh! This is worth giving a joint listen."
Interestingly, it's taken a while for us to actually get through the whole song in a session (did I mention he keeps falling asleep?). And as soon as I share the lyrics with you, you'll see why.
[I debated whether to use my version of the song or the original, and I opted for mine- but linked Joni's version- because it's about the therapy and the use of songs to have a deeper understanding of our clients. I'd add a lot of disclaimers, but they're not going to be of much use to any of us, so here it is. I had to cut out all of my blabbering because I talked for too long, so that's why it sounds as if I started in mid-sentence.]
Trouble Child
(Words and Music by Joni Mitchell, Copyright 1973 and 1974 Crazy Crow Music)
Up in the sterilized room where they let you be lazy,
Knowin' your attitude's all wrong, and you gotta change and it's not easy.
Dragon's shinin' with all values known,
Dazzlin' you, keepin' you from your own,
Where is the lion in you to defy him when you're this weak and this spacey?
So what are you gonna do about it, you can't live life, and you can't leave it.
Advice and religion you can't take it, you can't seem to believe it.
The peacock is afraid to parade, you're under the thumb of a maid.
And you really can't give love in this condition, still you know how you need it.
They open and close you, then they talk like they know you, they don't know you.
They're friends and they're foes too,
Trouble child, breakin' like the waves at Malibu.
So why does it come as such a shock to know you really have no one,
Only a river of changin' faces lookin' for an ocean.
They trickle through your leaky plans,
Another dream over the dam,
And you're lyin' in some room feelin' like your right to be human is goin' over too.
But some are gonna knock you and some'll try and clock you,
You know, it's really hard to talk sense to you,
Trouble child, breakin' like the waves at Malibu.
Okay. First of all, Joni Mitchell is...brilliant! (By the way, go and listen to her singing this song. I seriously don't do it justice.) Second, oh my God! Look. At. These. Lyrics! The experience of a man living in an institution? With a serious reputation for having been a major bad-ass in his younger days?
I can't say it enough times- I marvel, again and again, at the amazing ways we human beings find to communicate with each other!
I can't say it enough times- I marvel, again and again, at the amazing ways we human beings find to communicate with each other!
Sunday, May 22, 2011
It's a (musical) process
As I thought further about Video Journal #1 I did some writing about it and this is the song that emerged from that bit of processing.
I think I said everything else I needed to say on the actual video.
I do, however, want to reiterate the fact that using music to process my sessions has been incredibly useful in terms of trying to understand what may be going on for the folks I see for music therapy. Since they aren't able to use speech (and even if they were, none of us are always completely aware of why we feel out of sorts, and that's what we have our therapists for), I try to use the countertransference material so that I have better questions to ask.
Here, as promised, are the lyrics (with my further hypotheses thrown in for good measure in between things). (Apparently I didn't say everything I had to say on the video.) (Oy.) Sorry if it gets a bit difficult to read:
How many roads must a man walk down before you call him a man?
(So much in just the first line alone! Many of the initial countertransference songs with this particular person were songs sung by girls- not just women, girls. And I have had the sense, off and on, that trying to develop an identity as a man has been an issue for him. Living in an institution, not using speech to communicate, and being seen as a disabled person first doesn't exactly enhance one's sense of self much either.)
Yes, 'n', how many seas must a white dove sail before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, 'n' how many times must the cannon balls fly before they're forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, the answer is blowin' in the wind.
(This may or may not be stretching it a bit, but I wonder if he feels as if he's "blowin' in the wind" without a real sense of direction/meaning/purpose in his life.)
How many times must a man look up before he can see the sky?
(Maybe this means something and maybe not, but his days are spent in a room that doesn't have any windows at eye level, and the windows that are there are, ironically, very high up and next to the very high ceiling.)
Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have before he can hear people cry?
(There's that whole sense of futility there and feeling unacknowledged and frustrated.)
Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take 'til he knows that too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, the answer is blowin' in the wind.
How many years can a mountain exist before it is washed to the sea?
Yes, 'n' how many years can some people exist before they're allowed to be free?
(I'm sure this line speaks- loudly- for itself, but it certainly connects to the feeling of being bound and stuck.)
Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head pretending he just doesn't see?
(I don't know about any of you, but this line always makes me sad, and it is particularly poignant in this context.)
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, the answer is blowin' in the wind.
(Oh, I just realized that one of the struggles I've had in this man's sessions is this sense of "I don't know" and perpetual uncertainty. The answer, indeed, seems elusive!)
The answer is blowin' in the wind.
I think I said everything else I needed to say on the actual video.
I do, however, want to reiterate the fact that using music to process my sessions has been incredibly useful in terms of trying to understand what may be going on for the folks I see for music therapy. Since they aren't able to use speech (and even if they were, none of us are always completely aware of why we feel out of sorts, and that's what we have our therapists for), I try to use the countertransference material so that I have better questions to ask.
Here, as promised, are the lyrics (with my further hypotheses thrown in for good measure in between things). (Apparently I didn't say everything I had to say on the video.) (Oy.) Sorry if it gets a bit difficult to read:
Blowin' In the Wind
(Thank you, Bob Dylan!)
How many roads must a man walk down before you call him a man?
(So much in just the first line alone! Many of the initial countertransference songs with this particular person were songs sung by girls- not just women, girls. And I have had the sense, off and on, that trying to develop an identity as a man has been an issue for him. Living in an institution, not using speech to communicate, and being seen as a disabled person first doesn't exactly enhance one's sense of self much either.)
Yes, 'n', how many seas must a white dove sail before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, 'n' how many times must the cannon balls fly before they're forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, the answer is blowin' in the wind.
(This may or may not be stretching it a bit, but I wonder if he feels as if he's "blowin' in the wind" without a real sense of direction/meaning/purpose in his life.)
How many times must a man look up before he can see the sky?
(Maybe this means something and maybe not, but his days are spent in a room that doesn't have any windows at eye level, and the windows that are there are, ironically, very high up and next to the very high ceiling.)
Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have before he can hear people cry?
(There's that whole sense of futility there and feeling unacknowledged and frustrated.)
Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take 'til he knows that too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, the answer is blowin' in the wind.
How many years can a mountain exist before it is washed to the sea?
Yes, 'n' how many years can some people exist before they're allowed to be free?
(I'm sure this line speaks- loudly- for itself, but it certainly connects to the feeling of being bound and stuck.)
Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head pretending he just doesn't see?
(I don't know about any of you, but this line always makes me sad, and it is particularly poignant in this context.)
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, the answer is blowin' in the wind.
(Oh, I just realized that one of the struggles I've had in this man's sessions is this sense of "I don't know" and perpetual uncertainty. The answer, indeed, seems elusive!)
The answer is blowin' in the wind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One last thought: I'm always amazed at how clearly my clients are able to convey to me when I am (finally) on the right track. There is such a sense of discomfort within me until I'm finally able to process (or at least start to make sense of) the feelings that come up as a result of projective identification. Once the processed material is shared with my client, and the response seems to be, "yes, you're understanding me," I experience a literal internal shift, and the discomfort eases almost immediately.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Video journal #1 (So THAT's what Countertransference Sounds Like)
Seriously. What is with me and all this numbering?
Anyway...
With all this conversation about trying different forms of journaling (okay, maybe there wasn't any actual conversation, but it's definitely something that's been on my mind), I decided I wanted to try a video journal. So I did an improvisation after a session. Here's what that looked/sounded like:
After I listened to it, it occurred to me that it sounded sad and sort of poignant. I was struck by how extremely consonant it was as well. I didn't think it would be. I guess the point is that maybe on some level I did know what might have been going on in the session, but it just hadn't become conscious yet.
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