I don't have a very long time to write, as I am at my in-laws with a little down time. I wanted to take a little time to talk about dealing with people dealing with loss around the holidays. For a majority of people, the holidays are seen as a time of family, fun, and celebration but for many people, holiday celebrations are just a reminder of the loved one whom they may have lost. It's important that we give people space, acknowledging their loss, but still not alienating them if they should still want to celebrate. In my experience, people who aren't grieving may have misconceptions of how the bereaved person should cope. Some want the bereaved to "get over it" and join in the fun, while others assume that the bereaved will not want to take part in anything even remotely associated with happiness or joy.
I played at a memorial service for a client who I had only seen once (in which she was unresponsive), so I did not have the opportunity to build up a great relationship with her. Her daughter, however, wanted me to play at the memorial service. When choosing music, she said she wanted celebratory songs and at least one Christmas song. I chose "Away in the Manger" because of the last verse: "Be near me Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay close by me forever and love me I pray, bless all the dear children in thy tender care and take me to Heaven to live with thee there." I thought it was very bold to want a Christmas song and, as I was playing it, I could feel the tension in the room. It's very hard to reconcile the joy of the holiday season with the grief of loss and it's something that thousands of people struggle with every year.
I guess the point this little story is this: Don't assume that everyone is having a "merry" Christmas. If you know someone who is grieving this holiday season, don't assume you know what's best for them.
I hope everyone reading this has a very blessed Christmas and peaceful New Year!
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Early Christmas Gift
I wanted to take this blog post to talk about one of the greatest moments of my life: becoming a father. My wife and I had a baby girl named Maren on December 4th. That day was one of the happiest days of my life, tied, of course, with my wedding. My wife was a champ and gave birth without any pain medications and the result is this beautiful little girl. She was about 2 or 3 hours old when this picture was taken.
Of course, music had a big part in the birth. It was the first time I've ever tried to put together a string of songs together for relaxation that lasted more than an hour. In fact, I wanted to make sure I had enough, so I had 13 hours of songs on my iPod, ready to go at a moment's notice. My wife's preferred music when she needs to relax is acoustic music, so that was a must. It was pretty easy to find a lot of acoustic music, but there was one caveat. Given the fact that she was going to have the baby without the assistance of any pain medication, I knew I wanted her to feel empowered by the music of strong women. That made the playlist a little harder to negotiate. We have several days worth of music on our computer, but there was a limited amount that fit that description. Eventually, I had to relent and use some male musicians as well, but always tried to intersperse them between females, and never more than 2 or 3 in a row.
Aside from choosing the music, I also helped my wife try to relax during contractions, which became increasingly stronger. Much of what I did was take her through short breathing cues and used positive affirmations to encourage her. That, coupled with me timing the contractions, seemed to help a bit. Generally, my talking went like this: "Okay. Take big, deep breaths from your belly and focus just on this one breath. 15 seconds. You're doing great! Just take it one breath at a time!
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Story: Unusual Christmas Request/Response
First off, I want to apologize for my little hiatus lately. Suffice it to say that my wife and I have moved and are having a baby in the very near future. Now, I'm going to try to get back on track.
I had an interesting experience yesterday while doing an assessment. For those of you who aren't familiar with a music therapy assessment, this is what music therapists use to assign goals and objectives for their clients. I assess four different needs to find appropriate goals: social, spiritual, physical, and emotional needs. I usually don't know what I'm getting into right away when I start an assessment, which can be a challenge for me as an introvert. I have to meet new people, figure out how to interact with them, and decipher how I can best help them. This can turn out to be an interesting experience, as this particular story indicates.
I met the gentleman on hospice care who I was assessing and he was basically unresponsive. His wife was sitting in the corner of the room, not by the bed, and I could sense that she was understandably very anxious with the situation. She did not seem to know what to do with herself and vented her anxious energy through talking very quickly and at length with me before we started the assessment about the food that people had been bringing her in the hospital for support. At this point, I was a little worried that I wouldn't actually get to play any music for my client because she would take up too much time. However, I was able to corral her thoughts to music. I mentioned that, around the this time of year, some people like hear holiday music, but that I had other styles like country, hymns, jazz, and traditional folk music. She said, "I don't think he's going to make it to Christmas," and began to choke up. I said, "Well, we could bring him a little Christmas now, if you want to." She jokingly inquired, "You have 'Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer'? We used to laugh every time that song came on." I did have that song, but have only played it a handful of times for the clients who I know wouldn't be offended by the song. I responded, "I sure do! Want to start out with that one?"
As I started playing it, her mouth began to curl into a little smile, but with very mixed emotions. Her face clearly showed her emotions, but they were very mixed. She seemed to enjoy the song, but then grew sad at the fact that he would not be able to laugh with her when this song came on anymore. She began crying and got up to hold his hand. She sat in the chair near the bed and stroked his hand, cried, and rested her head on the side of the bed. Her grief was evident, but still restrained. At one point, the clients' eyes fluttered a bit as she was talking with him and it filled her with such joy. I told her that the sense of hearing is the last to go and that I'm sure that the client loved to hear her voice. She began talking to him between verses of songs that I would play and it became this beautiful sharing moment between this old couple, these old friends.
Processing the session afterward, I was trying to pinpoint the moment when she began to open up, express her grief, and share with the client. I realized it was during that first verse of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer." I would never have chosen that one to kick off the assessment and realized that no other song would have granted me access to that response. No other song would have conjured up such an experience for my client's wife. No other song would have started the process of grief and sharing that I had just witnessed. As I thought of the session, I was reminded that music carries its own powers and emotions, and I am simply there to facilitate that process. I think it was a good lesson for me to learn again. I guess music can do a lot without my help and sometimes, I just need to get out of the way and let it do its work.
I had an interesting experience yesterday while doing an assessment. For those of you who aren't familiar with a music therapy assessment, this is what music therapists use to assign goals and objectives for their clients. I assess four different needs to find appropriate goals: social, spiritual, physical, and emotional needs. I usually don't know what I'm getting into right away when I start an assessment, which can be a challenge for me as an introvert. I have to meet new people, figure out how to interact with them, and decipher how I can best help them. This can turn out to be an interesting experience, as this particular story indicates.
I met the gentleman on hospice care who I was assessing and he was basically unresponsive. His wife was sitting in the corner of the room, not by the bed, and I could sense that she was understandably very anxious with the situation. She did not seem to know what to do with herself and vented her anxious energy through talking very quickly and at length with me before we started the assessment about the food that people had been bringing her in the hospital for support. At this point, I was a little worried that I wouldn't actually get to play any music for my client because she would take up too much time. However, I was able to corral her thoughts to music. I mentioned that, around the this time of year, some people like hear holiday music, but that I had other styles like country, hymns, jazz, and traditional folk music. She said, "I don't think he's going to make it to Christmas," and began to choke up. I said, "Well, we could bring him a little Christmas now, if you want to." She jokingly inquired, "You have 'Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer'? We used to laugh every time that song came on." I did have that song, but have only played it a handful of times for the clients who I know wouldn't be offended by the song. I responded, "I sure do! Want to start out with that one?"
As I started playing it, her mouth began to curl into a little smile, but with very mixed emotions. Her face clearly showed her emotions, but they were very mixed. She seemed to enjoy the song, but then grew sad at the fact that he would not be able to laugh with her when this song came on anymore. She began crying and got up to hold his hand. She sat in the chair near the bed and stroked his hand, cried, and rested her head on the side of the bed. Her grief was evident, but still restrained. At one point, the clients' eyes fluttered a bit as she was talking with him and it filled her with such joy. I told her that the sense of hearing is the last to go and that I'm sure that the client loved to hear her voice. She began talking to him between verses of songs that I would play and it became this beautiful sharing moment between this old couple, these old friends.
Processing the session afterward, I was trying to pinpoint the moment when she began to open up, express her grief, and share with the client. I realized it was during that first verse of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer." I would never have chosen that one to kick off the assessment and realized that no other song would have granted me access to that response. No other song would have conjured up such an experience for my client's wife. No other song would have started the process of grief and sharing that I had just witnessed. As I thought of the session, I was reminded that music carries its own powers and emotions, and I am simply there to facilitate that process. I think it was a good lesson for me to learn again. I guess music can do a lot without my help and sometimes, I just need to get out of the way and let it do its work.
Friday, November 11, 2011
How I Got Into Hospice Music Therapy
This is a little follow up on my previous post, where I talked about how I got into music therapy. Today, I wanted to write about how I got involved in hospice. In case some people didn't know, music therapy can be used with a wide variety of populations, like hospice, hospitals, educational facilities, nursing facilities, rehabilitation, mental health centers, and even prisons. I think some people may have an idea of who they want to work with when they start studying music therapy. I, however, had absolutely no idea. If you recall, I barely even knew what music therapy was before I decided to major in it.
As my studies progressed, I decided, "Yes! I do want to this!" The next question, then, is "How and with whom do I want to do this?" You see, aside from the various populations to choose from, there are several different music therapy perspectives, methods, and approaches music therapy. How you believe music affects people can help you decide on a population to work with. Alternately, who you want to work with may affect your perspective on how music therapy works.
At first, I began thinking that I wanted to use music to help at-risk adolescents. I remember being a teenager and thinking that, some days, music was the only thing keeping me going. I expressed myself through music and thought that, if I could help teens express themselves positively, then I could help them make progress toward being successful in the world. I thought about this for several years in college, until one of my classes had a music therapist who worked in hospice come to speak. I immediately was drawn to it. I loved the idea of being able to bring some peace and quality of life to people who were dying. My only previous experience with music therapy and dying was during a practicum at the hospital in town. I had no idea what I was doing and I basically watched my supervisor take over and was pretty much in awe of the whole experience.
A few months later, it was time to start looking at internship sites and figuring out what I wanted the next step of my life to look like. I had decided that I would look into hospice settings, partly because I didn't have a hospice-specific practicum, and also because I thought I would really find the work rewarding. Long-story-short, I ended up getting accepted into the internship program at CarePartners Hospice in Asheville, NC and fell in love with the work. I loved working with the clients and their families. I enjoyed the challenge of learning all kinds of music. I especially loved the other people who worked in hospice. You need to be a special kind of person to deal with death on a daily basis and the people you can trust to do the job well are second-to-none the kind of people I want to be around.
Hopsice can be really challenging. An example of that is when a client died during my very first session this week. It can be emotionally exhausting and can leave you feeling almost numb sometimes. But a vast majority of the time, hospice workers are celebrating life, not worrying about death. Death will happen to all of us, so celebrate when you can.
As my studies progressed, I decided, "Yes! I do want to this!" The next question, then, is "How and with whom do I want to do this?" You see, aside from the various populations to choose from, there are several different music therapy perspectives, methods, and approaches music therapy. How you believe music affects people can help you decide on a population to work with. Alternately, who you want to work with may affect your perspective on how music therapy works.
At first, I began thinking that I wanted to use music to help at-risk adolescents. I remember being a teenager and thinking that, some days, music was the only thing keeping me going. I expressed myself through music and thought that, if I could help teens express themselves positively, then I could help them make progress toward being successful in the world. I thought about this for several years in college, until one of my classes had a music therapist who worked in hospice come to speak. I immediately was drawn to it. I loved the idea of being able to bring some peace and quality of life to people who were dying. My only previous experience with music therapy and dying was during a practicum at the hospital in town. I had no idea what I was doing and I basically watched my supervisor take over and was pretty much in awe of the whole experience.
A few months later, it was time to start looking at internship sites and figuring out what I wanted the next step of my life to look like. I had decided that I would look into hospice settings, partly because I didn't have a hospice-specific practicum, and also because I thought I would really find the work rewarding. Long-story-short, I ended up getting accepted into the internship program at CarePartners Hospice in Asheville, NC and fell in love with the work. I loved working with the clients and their families. I enjoyed the challenge of learning all kinds of music. I especially loved the other people who worked in hospice. You need to be a special kind of person to deal with death on a daily basis and the people you can trust to do the job well are second-to-none the kind of people I want to be around.
Hopsice can be really challenging. An example of that is when a client died during my very first session this week. It can be emotionally exhausting and can leave you feeling almost numb sometimes. But a vast majority of the time, hospice workers are celebrating life, not worrying about death. Death will happen to all of us, so celebrate when you can.
Friday, November 4, 2011
How I Got Into Music Therapy
Through listening to a few great podcasts, like The Music Therapy with Janice Harris and Music Therapy Round Table, I have grown to realize that every music therapist came upon the profession a little differently. I guess I always knew this, but it has come to my attention a little more lately, so I thought I'd follow suit and give my little story.
I've been singing since before I can remember. My dad sang in a men's chorus and the church choir and, being a little boy, I wanted to be just like Dad. I remember singing the liturgy in church and I remember singing "Silent Night" by myself for church when I was about 5. It makes sense, then, that I focused much of my efforts in school on music. I always got good parts in little plays and musical productions, mostly because there were not a lot of other boys that wanted to do them. I don't think I ever made the conscious thought that "I want to make music for my life's work", but I think that, deep down, I always just wanted to make music as a career.
While I was developing as a musician, I also started finding that my friends would come to me when they needed to talk or needed support. I was good at keeping secrets and giving a different perspective on hard situations. People seemed to like that about me. Eventually, even people I didn't really hang out with would tell me their problems. This was around high school and it was about that time that I thought I could make a career helping people. I initially was thinking about counseling or psychology.
During my junior year, when all teachers start saying things like "When you get out of high school..." or "In a real job, you will have to/can't get away with..." and really started trying to get us to think about college or what jobs we wanted. I talked to my mom about wanting to do something with music but also liking the idea of helping people. She is a substitute teacher, so she took a prep hour and looked up various careers, printed out a list, and brought them home. She never said, "You should do this," which is good, because knowing myself at that point, I probably would have done the opposite. Music therapy was listed on the front page of the stack, though, and it immediately caught my attention. I spent some time on the American Music Therapy Association website and knew that's what I wanted to do.
I guess I got lucky, because I didn't really know anything about music therapy before going to school for it. I chose my college based on who had good programs in the Midwest. If music therapy hadn't worked out, my life would be a lot different that it is now. I can do my next post on how I chose which field of music therapy I wanted to work in, but I think this is enough for today.
Have a great weekend!
I've been singing since before I can remember. My dad sang in a men's chorus and the church choir and, being a little boy, I wanted to be just like Dad. I remember singing the liturgy in church and I remember singing "Silent Night" by myself for church when I was about 5. It makes sense, then, that I focused much of my efforts in school on music. I always got good parts in little plays and musical productions, mostly because there were not a lot of other boys that wanted to do them. I don't think I ever made the conscious thought that "I want to make music for my life's work", but I think that, deep down, I always just wanted to make music as a career.
While I was developing as a musician, I also started finding that my friends would come to me when they needed to talk or needed support. I was good at keeping secrets and giving a different perspective on hard situations. People seemed to like that about me. Eventually, even people I didn't really hang out with would tell me their problems. This was around high school and it was about that time that I thought I could make a career helping people. I initially was thinking about counseling or psychology.
During my junior year, when all teachers start saying things like "When you get out of high school..." or "In a real job, you will have to/can't get away with..." and really started trying to get us to think about college or what jobs we wanted. I talked to my mom about wanting to do something with music but also liking the idea of helping people. She is a substitute teacher, so she took a prep hour and looked up various careers, printed out a list, and brought them home. She never said, "You should do this," which is good, because knowing myself at that point, I probably would have done the opposite. Music therapy was listed on the front page of the stack, though, and it immediately caught my attention. I spent some time on the American Music Therapy Association website and knew that's what I wanted to do.
I guess I got lucky, because I didn't really know anything about music therapy before going to school for it. I chose my college based on who had good programs in the Midwest. If music therapy hadn't worked out, my life would be a lot different that it is now. I can do my next post on how I chose which field of music therapy I wanted to work in, but I think this is enough for today.
Have a great weekend!
Friday, October 28, 2011
How Hospice Works Affects My: Priorities
This post is on how hospice work affects my priorities. Specifically, I'm talking about priorities related to home/work balance. This issue can be a slight point of contention with people I care about.
Before you think anything, let me explain. I understand that boundaries need to be set between my job and me to prevent burnout and healthy relationships outside of work. I do my best to do this, but I'm still learning, so my work sneaks up on me occasionally. I know this is something I need to continue working on. The thing that makes it hard is that I really enjoy my job and people tend to think about the things they enjoy. You can start to see my dilemma, here.
I think that this issue is compounded by the fact that I see clients and families at one of their most vulnerable moments. By the time they are involved with hospice, many of them have tried all other treatments and they see hospice as "giving up", which it is not. They just want themselves, their mom, their dad, brother, sister, or spouse to be comfortable. That is really where hospice workers shine the most. As a music therapist, I tend to get some special treatment, I admit. Many people, even if they do not understand that what I'm doing with them is therapeutic, enjoy and look forward to my next visit. People I visit benefit from my visits, which makes me feel better, which makes me enjoy my job more. See how this cycle continues? I see people when they need the most help, whether that is a physical, legal/financial, spiritual, or emotional issue they are dealing with. As a hospice worker, my heart naturally wants to help and be with these people and be there for them. I want to give them all the treatment they need, but there are not enough hours in a day to accomplish that task.
This can manifest itself in my everyday life through the choices I make regarding vacation time, travel schedule, my weekly schedule, and extra activities. As I said before, I know I should not be thinking about work all the time when I'm not on the clock. I am trying to be better at it, and I think this blog is helping me to regulate that through critically thinking about my work/home habits. If you have any tips or stories about how work, whether you're a music therapist, hospice worker, or have a completely different job, please let me know.
Before you think anything, let me explain. I understand that boundaries need to be set between my job and me to prevent burnout and healthy relationships outside of work. I do my best to do this, but I'm still learning, so my work sneaks up on me occasionally. I know this is something I need to continue working on. The thing that makes it hard is that I really enjoy my job and people tend to think about the things they enjoy. You can start to see my dilemma, here.
I think that this issue is compounded by the fact that I see clients and families at one of their most vulnerable moments. By the time they are involved with hospice, many of them have tried all other treatments and they see hospice as "giving up", which it is not. They just want themselves, their mom, their dad, brother, sister, or spouse to be comfortable. That is really where hospice workers shine the most. As a music therapist, I tend to get some special treatment, I admit. Many people, even if they do not understand that what I'm doing with them is therapeutic, enjoy and look forward to my next visit. People I visit benefit from my visits, which makes me feel better, which makes me enjoy my job more. See how this cycle continues? I see people when they need the most help, whether that is a physical, legal/financial, spiritual, or emotional issue they are dealing with. As a hospice worker, my heart naturally wants to help and be with these people and be there for them. I want to give them all the treatment they need, but there are not enough hours in a day to accomplish that task.
This can manifest itself in my everyday life through the choices I make regarding vacation time, travel schedule, my weekly schedule, and extra activities. As I said before, I know I should not be thinking about work all the time when I'm not on the clock. I am trying to be better at it, and I think this blog is helping me to regulate that through critically thinking about my work/home habits. If you have any tips or stories about how work, whether you're a music therapist, hospice worker, or have a completely different job, please let me know.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
How Hospice Works Affects My: Hobbies
This post is about how being hospice music therapist has affected my personal life by changing what I do for fun. As you can guess, my work can get pretty emotionally intense, although it is not as "doom and gloom" as some think. All this can have a pretty big impact on what I do with the rest of my week. After thinking about it, I've come to realize that I tend to do one of two things when it comes to my hobbies the rest of the week. I tend to either do something that uses my brain a lot, but not thinking about hospice, or I do something that my brain can go on autopilot for.
An example of the "autopilot" activities is cycling. I have a friend who is really big into bicycles and got me into it. I never really cared either way about cycling before, but he is so into it that I got sucked in. It's funny how when you find someone really fired up about something, it gets contagious. Basically, when I get out riding, I don't really think about anything. I get a nice workout and feel great when I get back, both physically and mentally. The things that make my brain work a lot and focus on what I'm doing instead of hospice are things like songwriting or reading. I try to read at least a half hour a day, if not more. I do songwriting whenever I have an inspiration. The songs usually start in my car, where I write the lyrics and then get home and try to put the lyrics and melody I created to chords and get the rest of it figured out.
I was thinking about my hobbies and how they help me and how I could make this post applicable to anyone. I think it all boils down to taking care of yourself and not obsessing about one thing. It's almost never a good thing to do that. I think part of taking care of yourself is taking your mind off things. By thinking about one thing all the time, you are putting yourself at risk of burnout. When people get burned out, they don't care about their work and they usually start to do poorly in the work place. In hospice, caring and doing a good job are paramount to our patients getting the care and quality of life they deserve. It is the epitome of a lose-lose situation when you're burned out - you don't want to be there and the people you are with suffer for it. I think this is true for anyone, whether you are a music therapist, teacher, nurse, electrician, etc.
I encourage you to take a few minutes and think about your hobbies. Do they contrast your work? Do they exist at all? How do they affect your patients? How do they affect you? If you realize you don't really have any hobbies that take your mind off work, make a plan and start one. Even something as simple as knitting or getting an exercise program can drastically help.
What are your hobbies?
An example of the "autopilot" activities is cycling. I have a friend who is really big into bicycles and got me into it. I never really cared either way about cycling before, but he is so into it that I got sucked in. It's funny how when you find someone really fired up about something, it gets contagious. Basically, when I get out riding, I don't really think about anything. I get a nice workout and feel great when I get back, both physically and mentally. The things that make my brain work a lot and focus on what I'm doing instead of hospice are things like songwriting or reading. I try to read at least a half hour a day, if not more. I do songwriting whenever I have an inspiration. The songs usually start in my car, where I write the lyrics and then get home and try to put the lyrics and melody I created to chords and get the rest of it figured out.
I was thinking about my hobbies and how they help me and how I could make this post applicable to anyone. I think it all boils down to taking care of yourself and not obsessing about one thing. It's almost never a good thing to do that. I think part of taking care of yourself is taking your mind off things. By thinking about one thing all the time, you are putting yourself at risk of burnout. When people get burned out, they don't care about their work and they usually start to do poorly in the work place. In hospice, caring and doing a good job are paramount to our patients getting the care and quality of life they deserve. It is the epitome of a lose-lose situation when you're burned out - you don't want to be there and the people you are with suffer for it. I think this is true for anyone, whether you are a music therapist, teacher, nurse, electrician, etc.
I encourage you to take a few minutes and think about your hobbies. Do they contrast your work? Do they exist at all? How do they affect your patients? How do they affect you? If you realize you don't really have any hobbies that take your mind off work, make a plan and start one. Even something as simple as knitting or getting an exercise program can drastically help.
What are your hobbies?
Friday, October 14, 2011
How Hospice Works Affects My: Goodbyes
Hey all,
First off, I'd like to apologize for not posting as often as I ought to. Suffice it to say that it has been a pretty crazy few weeks.
I've recently begun to realize how working in hospice care has changes how I've lived my life. It's nothing Earth shattering, but there are just some subtle things that may seem odd to people who don't understand that hospice "lifestyle." So I'd like to do a few posts on specific things that I have noticed in myself. I may make these insights out to be rather melodramatic, but I think they are valid and worth considering.
The obvious choice for me to start is goodbyes. In hospice care, I can never be too sure that I will see any of my clients again before they die. Think about it: we share this really incredible time, sing songs, tell stories, sometimes laugh, sometimes cry, and then we part ways. It almost sounds like what happens when I get together with friends, right? The big difference is that I know the person I'm sharing this time with is dying. There isn't necessarily a "see you later" or a "I'll talk to you soon" after I have a music therapy session with my clients. There is sometimes a "I'll try to stop by and see you again" and a "take care." But very rarely do I say, "I'll see you later." There are really only goodbyes to be said and you need to make them count. If I say, "I'll see you later," and they die before I do, I feel terrible, like I've let them down. I try not to get stressed out (although I'm not always successful) but that is a surefire way to make me feel tense.
How, then, should I remedy this situation? I make sure that every time I leave someone, I've left on the best possible terms. Saying these goodbyes can be a little tiresome at times, but, for me, it beats the alternative. When you say "Goodbye" so make times a day, it becomes a habit. Now, I try to make sure that all my conversations or visits end on good terms. This can take different looks, and some of them might not be easily noticed. One example is that I always say, "I love you" to my wife after talking on the phone, even if it's just a one minute talk where I have to ask her some mundane question. It also means that I like to give out hugs to people when we part ways. After all, nothing is guaranteed, especially life. Say your goodbyes as if (God forbid) you might be hit by a bus or struck by lightning before you see them again.
I'm not saying these things to sound like a saint. I'm simply trying to put my finger on what it is that saying "Goodbye" should really mean. As people, we meet and leave so many people each day and I think we, as people, take life for granted sometimes. The person who gets your coffee for you, works at the bank, takes your messages, comes home to you, and talks to you on the phone all deserve a proper goodbye. Tell them "Thank you" and make sure they know you appreciate them. People need to hear that, especially people who are in a therapeutic relationship with you. Music therapists, especially those in hospice care, need to make sure they are affirming the clients and staff they work with through goodbyes.
So, next time you are saying "Goodbye", I hope you think about what you are saying to them. Make sure your "Goodbye" is one you can end with.
First off, I'd like to apologize for not posting as often as I ought to. Suffice it to say that it has been a pretty crazy few weeks.
I've recently begun to realize how working in hospice care has changes how I've lived my life. It's nothing Earth shattering, but there are just some subtle things that may seem odd to people who don't understand that hospice "lifestyle." So I'd like to do a few posts on specific things that I have noticed in myself. I may make these insights out to be rather melodramatic, but I think they are valid and worth considering.
The obvious choice for me to start is goodbyes. In hospice care, I can never be too sure that I will see any of my clients again before they die. Think about it: we share this really incredible time, sing songs, tell stories, sometimes laugh, sometimes cry, and then we part ways. It almost sounds like what happens when I get together with friends, right? The big difference is that I know the person I'm sharing this time with is dying. There isn't necessarily a "see you later" or a "I'll talk to you soon" after I have a music therapy session with my clients. There is sometimes a "I'll try to stop by and see you again" and a "take care." But very rarely do I say, "I'll see you later." There are really only goodbyes to be said and you need to make them count. If I say, "I'll see you later," and they die before I do, I feel terrible, like I've let them down. I try not to get stressed out (although I'm not always successful) but that is a surefire way to make me feel tense.
How, then, should I remedy this situation? I make sure that every time I leave someone, I've left on the best possible terms. Saying these goodbyes can be a little tiresome at times, but, for me, it beats the alternative. When you say "Goodbye" so make times a day, it becomes a habit. Now, I try to make sure that all my conversations or visits end on good terms. This can take different looks, and some of them might not be easily noticed. One example is that I always say, "I love you" to my wife after talking on the phone, even if it's just a one minute talk where I have to ask her some mundane question. It also means that I like to give out hugs to people when we part ways. After all, nothing is guaranteed, especially life. Say your goodbyes as if (God forbid) you might be hit by a bus or struck by lightning before you see them again.
I'm not saying these things to sound like a saint. I'm simply trying to put my finger on what it is that saying "Goodbye" should really mean. As people, we meet and leave so many people each day and I think we, as people, take life for granted sometimes. The person who gets your coffee for you, works at the bank, takes your messages, comes home to you, and talks to you on the phone all deserve a proper goodbye. Tell them "Thank you" and make sure they know you appreciate them. People need to hear that, especially people who are in a therapeutic relationship with you. Music therapists, especially those in hospice care, need to make sure they are affirming the clients and staff they work with through goodbyes.
So, next time you are saying "Goodbye", I hope you think about what you are saying to them. Make sure your "Goodbye" is one you can end with.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Fall Memorial Service #1
On Thursday night, I participated in a community memorial service for one of my offices and I just wanted to do a little recap and reflect on it.
I did a few prelude of a few songs. I did "Sand and Water" by Beth Nielsen Chapman and "In My Life" by the Beatles.
For the service itself, I did a few songs that I wrote. One of them was "I Know", which I posted about in an earlier blog. I prefaced it by talking about how, as hospice workers, we truly care about how the surviving family members cope and that we cared deeply for our patients. I did another original called "Taking You With Me", which is about how people who have died live through our memories of them. They live through thoughts, love, and moments they they've shared.
After the service, a few people came up to me and asked if I had CDs to sell. It meant a lot to me. More than last year, especially. Last year, at this time, I had only been seeing clients for about a month, so didn't have strong relationships with the families yet. This year, however, I recognized a majority of the people who attended as they were families of clients I saw throughout the year. My emotions were also touched more, because when people talked and cried about their loved ones, I knew and could still visualize those people. It was hard to sing, especially "I Know", without crying, but I managed to get through it.
Overall, I thought that there was a lot of good sharing and transitioning at the service. I also enjoyed the chance to reconnect with some of the families that I had grown close to over the last year. I hope that next year, I will be able to still be a part of this great company and helping make the lives of patients and families more special and enriched.
I did a few prelude of a few songs. I did "Sand and Water" by Beth Nielsen Chapman and "In My Life" by the Beatles.
For the service itself, I did a few songs that I wrote. One of them was "I Know", which I posted about in an earlier blog. I prefaced it by talking about how, as hospice workers, we truly care about how the surviving family members cope and that we cared deeply for our patients. I did another original called "Taking You With Me", which is about how people who have died live through our memories of them. They live through thoughts, love, and moments they they've shared.
After the service, a few people came up to me and asked if I had CDs to sell. It meant a lot to me. More than last year, especially. Last year, at this time, I had only been seeing clients for about a month, so didn't have strong relationships with the families yet. This year, however, I recognized a majority of the people who attended as they were families of clients I saw throughout the year. My emotions were also touched more, because when people talked and cried about their loved ones, I knew and could still visualize those people. It was hard to sing, especially "I Know", without crying, but I managed to get through it.
Overall, I thought that there was a lot of good sharing and transitioning at the service. I also enjoyed the chance to reconnect with some of the families that I had grown close to over the last year. I hope that next year, I will be able to still be a part of this great company and helping make the lives of patients and families more special and enriched.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Septemer 11th - Music for national healing
Today is the tenth anniversary of the terrible attacks on the World Trade Center and, in some ways, the wounds still feel fresh. I specifically remember sitting in science class my freshman year of high school. It was early in the day and the teacher was watching television, told us to sit down and watch, and we did. We just watched the smoke billowing out of this building I had never heard of before. As we watched for the next two days, we learned a lot about life. We learned about hatred, we learned about resilience, and learned what real heroes looked like. We saw a plane fly into the second tower and could do nothing but watch as a few thousand people died, right on television. We saw police officers and firefighters fight the debris, trying to find jsut one more person they could help out of the rubble.
I know I'm not alone in my experience. The media still talks about it and a new sense of American pride began to manifest itself in songs about national pride. People took all stances to the mayhem. Toby Keith, very angry, states his case in "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue."
I personally don't agree with Mr. Keith. The anger, I think, was felt by millions of people, but the jump to immediate violence, I don't believe is the correct answer. I feel this anger is misdirected sadness and there are more appropriate ways to deal with this grief.
Others stood with stoicism and sang the Star Spangled Banner and Amazing Grace. It seems that everybody took these songs much more serious after 9/11.
The song that most touched me, though, at this time was a song that seemed to symbolize the struggle of rebuilding and realizing that nothing would ever be the same again. This song reminds of the people who helped others during this time. To me, it talks about feeling invincible only to be knocked down and hurt. But it also gets back up. It's called "Superman" by Five for Fighting.
What were songs that you remember from that time? What meaning to they carry for you now?
I know I'm not alone in my experience. The media still talks about it and a new sense of American pride began to manifest itself in songs about national pride. People took all stances to the mayhem. Toby Keith, very angry, states his case in "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue."
I personally don't agree with Mr. Keith. The anger, I think, was felt by millions of people, but the jump to immediate violence, I don't believe is the correct answer. I feel this anger is misdirected sadness and there are more appropriate ways to deal with this grief.
Others stood with stoicism and sang the Star Spangled Banner and Amazing Grace. It seems that everybody took these songs much more serious after 9/11.
The song that most touched me, though, at this time was a song that seemed to symbolize the struggle of rebuilding and realizing that nothing would ever be the same again. This song reminds of the people who helped others during this time. To me, it talks about feeling invincible only to be knocked down and hurt. But it also gets back up. It's called "Superman" by Five for Fighting.
What were songs that you remember from that time? What meaning to they carry for you now?
Friday, September 2, 2011
Story: Right in the Butt
This week, I have a story. It's by the same patient who stated she planted all the tulips in Holland (http://odeenmusictherapy.blogspot.com/2011/03/story-all-tulips-in-holland.html).
Although she doesn't have dementia as a diagnosis, her memory is poor. She will tell you the same stories from session to session, and sometimes even multiple times a session. She has all the spunk in the world and she'll always point at you and say, "Now, you know me. I ain't lying. I tell it to you straight. If you don't like the truth, get out of the way!" She's also very religious, which makes this story all the more entertaining.
This is the story as I most recently heard it:
Did I ever tell you about the time I met the Pope? I was invited to a banquet in Chicago and the Pope was there. After dinner, the Pope came up to me and we started talking. As we were talking, he started smarting off to me. Now, you know me. I don't take that from anybody. So, I told him he'd better watch his mouth. And you know what he did? He smarted off to me again! So, I kicked him. I kicked him right in the butt. You should have seen the look on his face when I did that! Now, I ain't lying. I tell it to you straight. I don't take smarting off from anybody.
I hope anybody reading this does not take offense to this, or any other stories that I post. In no way am I intending to make fun of the clients I see. I am simply trying to humanize them, and show readers who do not work in hospice, what kind of characters we get. Hospice is not about death, but about life. Death is just a small part of what we work with. Life, such as the life of this particular client, is what gets us hospice workers up in the morning.
Hope you all have a great Labor Day weekend! Make sure you don't smart off to anyone. You never know if you'll get kicked in the butt!
Although she doesn't have dementia as a diagnosis, her memory is poor. She will tell you the same stories from session to session, and sometimes even multiple times a session. She has all the spunk in the world and she'll always point at you and say, "Now, you know me. I ain't lying. I tell it to you straight. If you don't like the truth, get out of the way!" She's also very religious, which makes this story all the more entertaining.
This is the story as I most recently heard it:
Did I ever tell you about the time I met the Pope? I was invited to a banquet in Chicago and the Pope was there. After dinner, the Pope came up to me and we started talking. As we were talking, he started smarting off to me. Now, you know me. I don't take that from anybody. So, I told him he'd better watch his mouth. And you know what he did? He smarted off to me again! So, I kicked him. I kicked him right in the butt. You should have seen the look on his face when I did that! Now, I ain't lying. I tell it to you straight. I don't take smarting off from anybody.
I hope anybody reading this does not take offense to this, or any other stories that I post. In no way am I intending to make fun of the clients I see. I am simply trying to humanize them, and show readers who do not work in hospice, what kind of characters we get. Hospice is not about death, but about life. Death is just a small part of what we work with. Life, such as the life of this particular client, is what gets us hospice workers up in the morning.
Hope you all have a great Labor Day weekend! Make sure you don't smart off to anyone. You never know if you'll get kicked in the butt!
Friday, August 26, 2011
Therapy or Entertainment?
Hey everybody,
I should probably say that this blog post is not intended to be demeaning to musicians who entertain. There is a lot of validity to being an entertainer. I use music to entertain often, and enjoy it. This post, however, is an attempt to discern the difference between therapy and entertainment for my work.
I'm writing this post as a way to process a recent "dilemma" I've encountered. The problem is: Where is the point where therapy becomes entertainment? I'm asking myself this question because I am trying to make a conscious effort at work to see people who are benefiting more, more often. What does "benefiting more" mean, though?
There are some instances where is might seem fairly straight forward. If someone is cognizant and really is only interested in hearing someone play guitar, they might be using music only as entertainment. As a therapist, then, I have to do some adjusting to my sessions to encourage therapy to take place. Some people, however, have no interest in the therapeutic aspects and just want music to be played for them. Other times, it is more difficult to distinguish. Let's say there is a client who is bed bound, does not take part in activities, was once very social, but now cannot interact well with the people they know. If I go in, talk with them for a while, and play music for them or listen to music with them, who's to say that is not therapeutic for them? Perhaps it could be giving someone control over their environment or a way to get back to the way they used to be.
Most of these little mental conflicts happen for me when I am not working on emotional, physical, or spiritual goals. Social goals are the gray area. Increasing social interaction is great, but at what point is the social interaction something that a volunteer could provide? At some point, I could go see someone who I am sure is benefiting from my therapeutic services.
I guess, it very much depends on the person's abilities and my intuition as a clinician. That's difficult for me. I'm not very good at trusting myself, sometimes. Whenever people are involved, there will be gray areas, because people are not just "this-or-that" creatures. Another reason it is difficult, is because it forces me to take a step back and really ask myself, "What did I help my client accomplish in that session?" If the answer is nothing, then I really need to evaluate my session and make necessary changes to attempt to facilitate a music therapy session, not a music entertainment session. As clinicians, we need to be doing this anyway, but that doesn't mean it's easy to do. We should constantly be striving to improve ourselves so that our clients can receive the best possible services from us. This means, though, that you will have to be pushed out of your comfort zone often and will be forced to learn new skills and approaches.
I guess I should conclude, because I feel I'm beginning to ramble. This is something I'll be wrestling with for a while, I feel. If you have any suggestions or can relate to this concept of "therapy vs. entertainment", please comment. I'd love to hear your thoughts!
I should probably say that this blog post is not intended to be demeaning to musicians who entertain. There is a lot of validity to being an entertainer. I use music to entertain often, and enjoy it. This post, however, is an attempt to discern the difference between therapy and entertainment for my work.
I'm writing this post as a way to process a recent "dilemma" I've encountered. The problem is: Where is the point where therapy becomes entertainment? I'm asking myself this question because I am trying to make a conscious effort at work to see people who are benefiting more, more often. What does "benefiting more" mean, though?
There are some instances where is might seem fairly straight forward. If someone is cognizant and really is only interested in hearing someone play guitar, they might be using music only as entertainment. As a therapist, then, I have to do some adjusting to my sessions to encourage therapy to take place. Some people, however, have no interest in the therapeutic aspects and just want music to be played for them. Other times, it is more difficult to distinguish. Let's say there is a client who is bed bound, does not take part in activities, was once very social, but now cannot interact well with the people they know. If I go in, talk with them for a while, and play music for them or listen to music with them, who's to say that is not therapeutic for them? Perhaps it could be giving someone control over their environment or a way to get back to the way they used to be.
Most of these little mental conflicts happen for me when I am not working on emotional, physical, or spiritual goals. Social goals are the gray area. Increasing social interaction is great, but at what point is the social interaction something that a volunteer could provide? At some point, I could go see someone who I am sure is benefiting from my therapeutic services.
I guess, it very much depends on the person's abilities and my intuition as a clinician. That's difficult for me. I'm not very good at trusting myself, sometimes. Whenever people are involved, there will be gray areas, because people are not just "this-or-that" creatures. Another reason it is difficult, is because it forces me to take a step back and really ask myself, "What did I help my client accomplish in that session?" If the answer is nothing, then I really need to evaluate my session and make necessary changes to attempt to facilitate a music therapy session, not a music entertainment session. As clinicians, we need to be doing this anyway, but that doesn't mean it's easy to do. We should constantly be striving to improve ourselves so that our clients can receive the best possible services from us. This means, though, that you will have to be pushed out of your comfort zone often and will be forced to learn new skills and approaches.
I guess I should conclude, because I feel I'm beginning to ramble. This is something I'll be wrestling with for a while, I feel. If you have any suggestions or can relate to this concept of "therapy vs. entertainment", please comment. I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Friday, August 19, 2011
Music to Cope
Music is a a very effective way for many to cope, myself included. Working in hospice care, coping needs to become an everyday activity in order to avoid burnout. This activity is different for everybody. My coping activities are usually a few different things. I enjoy being outside, exercising (which I do outside), and music. I suppose music is a no-brainer at this point. When it comes to music, there is so much that can be said, both about music's healing effects and about the ability of music to express emotions. I don't want to go into those aspects, but really want to talk about one song I've written and its back-story.
A few weeks ago, I lost two clients whom I had built a strong connect with throughout our sessions. One had been on hospice for around three years and the other had been on hospice for five months, or so. I knew that to protect myself, I needed to have boundaries and should not become emotionally attached to them. I usually do a good job of this. However, when I would be with those clients, I would forget and realize after the fact that I was putting myself in dangerous territory. Long story short, they both died in the same week after a very fast decline. The next week, I was on family vacation, so I was unable to attend, and play for, the funerals, even though I had been asked. This saddened me greatly and I needed to cope. I found it difficult to find songs that talked candidly about death and what it's like to be a caregiver for the dying. Let's face it, it's not a popular subject in our culture. I decided, therefore, to write my own. What came out was a song that many of my co-workers have found a connection with as well. I have decided to post the lyrics and a link to the song.
Now for the shameless plug: I'm in a group called Little Bluestem. We recorded this song in my living room on Wednesday, so it's a rough cut. If you like the song, check out our Reverb Nation page at http://www.reverbnation.com/littlebluestem. We're also on Facebook and Myspace or follow us on Twitter (@LBluestemMusic).
A few weeks ago, I lost two clients whom I had built a strong connect with throughout our sessions. One had been on hospice for around three years and the other had been on hospice for five months, or so. I knew that to protect myself, I needed to have boundaries and should not become emotionally attached to them. I usually do a good job of this. However, when I would be with those clients, I would forget and realize after the fact that I was putting myself in dangerous territory. Long story short, they both died in the same week after a very fast decline. The next week, I was on family vacation, so I was unable to attend, and play for, the funerals, even though I had been asked. This saddened me greatly and I needed to cope. I found it difficult to find songs that talked candidly about death and what it's like to be a caregiver for the dying. Let's face it, it's not a popular subject in our culture. I decided, therefore, to write my own. What came out was a song that many of my co-workers have found a connection with as well. I have decided to post the lyrics and a link to the song.
I Know - Bryan Odeen
I know that I won't see you again, so I'll say "Goodbye, my friend."
But I will not let you go
I know that you're better off at rest, I hope you know that you'll be missed
I hope you know how much I cared
And I know you're up there shining like the stars in Heaven do
But the thing I know more clearly is how much I will miss you
I know we didn't know each other long, but the bond we built was strong
And the friendship we had grew
I knew that someday you would die, so it begs the question why
I let you get so close
And I know you're up there shining like the stars in Heaven do
But the thing I know more clearly is how much I will miss you
I wouldn't give away all the the moments we had along the way
All those moments are all I have
And I know you're up there shining like the stars in Heaven do
But the thing I know more clearly is how much I will miss you
Now for the shameless plug: I'm in a group called Little Bluestem. We recorded this song in my living room on Wednesday, so it's a rough cut. If you like the song, check out our Reverb Nation page at http://www.reverbnation.com/littlebluestem. We're also on Facebook and Myspace or follow us on Twitter (@LBluestemMusic).
Friday, August 12, 2011
Story: "I'm So Glad I Saw This"
This is just a little, rewarding story from the other day. I went to go see the last client I was going to see yesterday at a nursing home in a small Iowa town. This client has a form of dementia as a hospice diagnosis. She is oriented only to her name and starting to become more and more lethargic. She enjoys pushing herself around the halls in her wheelchair and has maintained a strong faith system through attending the facility worship services. I usually sing hymns with her and have grown fairly used to her singing along on most of the well-known hymns, like "Amazing Grace", "In the Garden", and "The Old Rugged Cross." She doesn't remember all the words, but always the majority of the first verse. When she isn't singing, she has a hard time putting six words together into a coherent order.
Yesterday, when I came for a visit, her daughter was there. I had never met this daughter and learned that she lived about 3 hours away. The daughter only visits every few months, so I was quite excited that he happened to be there. She, however, did not seem to be excited about visiting her mother. I suppose I can empathize. I understand what it's like to visit someone regularly, investing a lot of time and energy into their lives, only to have them ask you the same questions over and over because they don't remember you or what you told them earlier. The daughter seemed to have run out of energy, run out of things to talk about, or was just about to justify leaving. When I entered the room, I introduced myself and what I did and asked if she would stick around for a music therapy session, and she agreed.
From the very first song, my client sang with all the gusto she could muster. She even made hand motions and gestures that reflected the words she was singing. She wasn't waiting for me to start the words for her and, in fact, I had a hard time keeping up with her tempo. Eventually, I just plucked the chords on the downbeat of each measure. I've never heard "Amazing Grace" sung to intensely and deliberately as the well-known hymn was turned into a waltz tempo hymn, and I hung on to my client's every word. She proved this was no fluke, as she did the same for all the songs in the session. Not just the first verse, but sometimes the second, third, and even fourth verse were sung out. I can't help but feel that her session was a way of telling her daughter, "I'm still here. I'm still me. Don't worry about me. I remember you!" After the session, the daughter appeared to be mentally trying to wrap her head around the "performance" she had just witnessed. She looked on the verge of tearing up, but stopped herself and said to me, "I'm so glad I saw this!"
She didn't seem interested in continuing the conversation in a deep fashion and, instead, exchanged pleasant little comments about the power of music and faith. I left the room and went to do my charting and, as I left and walked by the client's room, I heard the client's daughter engaging her mother in conversation about music and faith. I can't be entirely sure about a lot of aspects this story and probably can't take full credit in the experience, but I do know one thing. I know that the daughter meant it when she said, "I'm so glad I saw this!" I'm glad I could give her mother back to her for a short time.
Yesterday, when I came for a visit, her daughter was there. I had never met this daughter and learned that she lived about 3 hours away. The daughter only visits every few months, so I was quite excited that he happened to be there. She, however, did not seem to be excited about visiting her mother. I suppose I can empathize. I understand what it's like to visit someone regularly, investing a lot of time and energy into their lives, only to have them ask you the same questions over and over because they don't remember you or what you told them earlier. The daughter seemed to have run out of energy, run out of things to talk about, or was just about to justify leaving. When I entered the room, I introduced myself and what I did and asked if she would stick around for a music therapy session, and she agreed.
From the very first song, my client sang with all the gusto she could muster. She even made hand motions and gestures that reflected the words she was singing. She wasn't waiting for me to start the words for her and, in fact, I had a hard time keeping up with her tempo. Eventually, I just plucked the chords on the downbeat of each measure. I've never heard "Amazing Grace" sung to intensely and deliberately as the well-known hymn was turned into a waltz tempo hymn, and I hung on to my client's every word. She proved this was no fluke, as she did the same for all the songs in the session. Not just the first verse, but sometimes the second, third, and even fourth verse were sung out. I can't help but feel that her session was a way of telling her daughter, "I'm still here. I'm still me. Don't worry about me. I remember you!" After the session, the daughter appeared to be mentally trying to wrap her head around the "performance" she had just witnessed. She looked on the verge of tearing up, but stopped herself and said to me, "I'm so glad I saw this!"
She didn't seem interested in continuing the conversation in a deep fashion and, instead, exchanged pleasant little comments about the power of music and faith. I left the room and went to do my charting and, as I left and walked by the client's room, I heard the client's daughter engaging her mother in conversation about music and faith. I can't be entirely sure about a lot of aspects this story and probably can't take full credit in the experience, but I do know one thing. I know that the daughter meant it when she said, "I'm so glad I saw this!" I'm glad I could give her mother back to her for a short time.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
...silence...
Wow. It's been far too long since I've posted, and I apologize for that. My life has been filled with family camps and day trips, so I haven't really had a chance to do this for a few weeks. Needless to say, I haven't been hearing a lot of silence lately. This will be the last topic in my little series of how I use music therapy for myself.
"What does silence have to do with music therapy?" you might ask. To be honest, I think it might be one of the most important things about music therapy. Have you ever talked with someone who never lets any space get into the conversation? Or been forced to listen to the radio for hours on end without any respite or change in programming? Or gotten home from a hard day at work or school and just wanted to sit and remember what it feels like to have quiet? If you've answered yes to any of these (and I believe most people will have said yes), then you know how relaxing and centering silence can be. Even in regards to music, silence can be important. Claude Debussy is quoted saying, "Music is the space between the notes." Even Miles Davis is credited for saying, "Don't play what's there, play what's not there."
Working in hospice, I think silence may be even more important. Regardless of cognitive functioning or aphasia that can be found in some clients, many of my clients seem to enjoy my visits because I leave space. Space to think. Space to reflect. Space to breathe. Space to be. Just be yourself without any extra noise cluttering up your mind, which we often do. Think you don't have too much clutter noise? Try turning off all gadgets you have around you right now, like your TV, computer speakers, radio, even the air conditioning. Try to just sit there and see how you feel. Think about what you did that day. Focus on your breathing. Notice all the extra sounds that living provides, like traffic noise. I know that every time I do this, I'm amazed at how noisy I let my life become.
I know there have been studies that have linked excess noise with stress. Stress has been linked to a plethora of different maladies. It makes sense, therefore, to make steps to reduce noise and increase silence in your life. As a music therapist, I need to be mindful of this. People often turn off their TVs when I get there, which many of them haven't done all day. As long as the TV is off, then, I can take some time to allow space within the music therapy session where there is no sound. Where to leave the sound is personal and could be a different post entirely, so I won't go into that aspect this time. The important thing is that silence is present and that you and the client are present in the silence. Be aware of the lack of noise and how you feel when it's happening. I'm betting there isn't a person out there who wouldn't benefit from a little silence now and then.
I hope this little series gives you ideas of how to use music to help yourself. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but just the ones I use most often. What would you add to this list if you were making it?
"What does silence have to do with music therapy?" you might ask. To be honest, I think it might be one of the most important things about music therapy. Have you ever talked with someone who never lets any space get into the conversation? Or been forced to listen to the radio for hours on end without any respite or change in programming? Or gotten home from a hard day at work or school and just wanted to sit and remember what it feels like to have quiet? If you've answered yes to any of these (and I believe most people will have said yes), then you know how relaxing and centering silence can be. Even in regards to music, silence can be important. Claude Debussy is quoted saying, "Music is the space between the notes." Even Miles Davis is credited for saying, "Don't play what's there, play what's not there."
Working in hospice, I think silence may be even more important. Regardless of cognitive functioning or aphasia that can be found in some clients, many of my clients seem to enjoy my visits because I leave space. Space to think. Space to reflect. Space to breathe. Space to be. Just be yourself without any extra noise cluttering up your mind, which we often do. Think you don't have too much clutter noise? Try turning off all gadgets you have around you right now, like your TV, computer speakers, radio, even the air conditioning. Try to just sit there and see how you feel. Think about what you did that day. Focus on your breathing. Notice all the extra sounds that living provides, like traffic noise. I know that every time I do this, I'm amazed at how noisy I let my life become.
I know there have been studies that have linked excess noise with stress. Stress has been linked to a plethora of different maladies. It makes sense, therefore, to make steps to reduce noise and increase silence in your life. As a music therapist, I need to be mindful of this. People often turn off their TVs when I get there, which many of them haven't done all day. As long as the TV is off, then, I can take some time to allow space within the music therapy session where there is no sound. Where to leave the sound is personal and could be a different post entirely, so I won't go into that aspect this time. The important thing is that silence is present and that you and the client are present in the silence. Be aware of the lack of noise and how you feel when it's happening. I'm betting there isn't a person out there who wouldn't benefit from a little silence now and then.
I hope this little series gives you ideas of how to use music to help yourself. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but just the ones I use most often. What would you add to this list if you were making it?
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Composition
Number three in my little series of how I use music for my own therapy is composition. I'm not going to lie to you, I'm very glad that this one happened when it did. Why? Because I can do a shameless plug! I'll be playing an acoustic show with a friend and opening up for another band, call Mike Mains and The Branches. We'll be doing some covers, but more exciting will be a few of my original compositions. The show is the 19th of July (this Tuesday) and, if you're in or around Mason City, IA this week, you should check it out. Free show and Mike Mains and the Branches are fast becoming one of my favorite summer bands.
Now to the task at hand. Composition is a hard subject to write about because you can take it in so many directions. You can write about the technical aspects, such as chord progressions, rhyming schemes, or melodic contour and dynamics. You can discuss the benefits of releasing emotions through positive means, such as music. The area that I think means the most to my personal compositions, though, the emotional content of music and how I attempt to convey them. This may sound like a mix of the technical and emotional aspects, and in a sense you'd be correct.
When I write music, I always want it to accomplish something. One song may be extroverted and written to tell a story. Another may be introverted and more about personal revelations. Believe it or not, I've even got a song that is meant to be humorous (gasp!). The main current behind all my music, however, is that I wanted the songs to say something. I usually start with an idea, what I want the main point to be. Many times, the song will take on a new meaning when it's done, but I always start with a focus. After that, I try to come up with a few key phrases that I can base at least one verse and a chorus on. My songs don't push any boundaries and are all pretty basic, so I usually write the chorus and first verse. After that, I usually have a pretty good idea if the song is worth finishing, reworking, or if I should just toss it (I've tossed more songs that I care to admit). After a song has made it through the process of writing the lyrics, I usually put it away for a little while so I can come back to it. If, when I sing it again, I still like it, I'll let others hear it. It may seem like a long process, but I've always been one who wants what I say to mean something and I want to say things right. I think too often people write prolifically, putting out dozens, even hundreds of songs, but never actually say anything. I may only have a handful of songs that people will ever hear, but they will all be a piece of me that others can hear.
You may be thinking that this post is starting to get a little long, so I'll start trying to make more sense and wrap it up. I believe that all music should say something. I try to get my music to say something. That's how I use composition as my therapy.
If you want to hear some of my songs (recorded very cheaply on a home computer), check out this site: http://www.reverbnation.com/artist/bryanodeen#!/bryanodeen
Now to the task at hand. Composition is a hard subject to write about because you can take it in so many directions. You can write about the technical aspects, such as chord progressions, rhyming schemes, or melodic contour and dynamics. You can discuss the benefits of releasing emotions through positive means, such as music. The area that I think means the most to my personal compositions, though, the emotional content of music and how I attempt to convey them. This may sound like a mix of the technical and emotional aspects, and in a sense you'd be correct.
When I write music, I always want it to accomplish something. One song may be extroverted and written to tell a story. Another may be introverted and more about personal revelations. Believe it or not, I've even got a song that is meant to be humorous (gasp!). The main current behind all my music, however, is that I wanted the songs to say something. I usually start with an idea, what I want the main point to be. Many times, the song will take on a new meaning when it's done, but I always start with a focus. After that, I try to come up with a few key phrases that I can base at least one verse and a chorus on. My songs don't push any boundaries and are all pretty basic, so I usually write the chorus and first verse. After that, I usually have a pretty good idea if the song is worth finishing, reworking, or if I should just toss it (I've tossed more songs that I care to admit). After a song has made it through the process of writing the lyrics, I usually put it away for a little while so I can come back to it. If, when I sing it again, I still like it, I'll let others hear it. It may seem like a long process, but I've always been one who wants what I say to mean something and I want to say things right. I think too often people write prolifically, putting out dozens, even hundreds of songs, but never actually say anything. I may only have a handful of songs that people will ever hear, but they will all be a piece of me that others can hear.
You may be thinking that this post is starting to get a little long, so I'll start trying to make more sense and wrap it up. I believe that all music should say something. I try to get my music to say something. That's how I use composition as my therapy.
If you want to hear some of my songs (recorded very cheaply on a home computer), check out this site: http://www.reverbnation.com/artist/bryanodeen#!/bryanodeen
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Learning about music
Here's the next edition in my "Music is My Therapy" series. It's about how learning about music is therapeutic for me, and hopefully it may give you some insight into how you can use music to enhance your life. Not to sound like an expert, mind you, but I figure that if nothing else keeping this blog forces me to process and put down in writing my philosophies, lessons, and thoughts.
I have always been a curious person and music may be a curious person's wonderland. There are so many facets of music that can be learned. You can learn instruments, theory, philosophy, sight reading, composition, history, etc. Instruments can be fun and challenging, as well as practical for music therapists. In my job in hospice, I get a chance to meet with people who have played all kinds of instruments. Many have played piano and sang, but occasionally I meet a client who used to play band instruments and, I might be able to create a therapeutic experience simply by playing a clarinet, trumpet, or whatever they used to play. I don't often do this, mostly because I don't know a ton of band instruments enough to play in a session. I would love to get that point, though.
History is another interesting aspect to learn for music therapists. Many times, I can tie in a story that a patient told me with the story behind a song. This makes the client feel more connected with the music and can help them open up to me, as well. Everybody has a story, and I love to hear them.
So far, I've just mentioned a few ways learning can be therapeutic for my clients, so I'll talk a little bit about one of my favorite aspects of music. I'm a huge fan of learning about music philosophy. I'm always so interested in people's thoughts when they are composing. For instance, one of my favorite movies at this moment is "It Might Get Loud", where three great guitarists (The Edge, Jimmy Page, and Jack White) talk about their approach to guitar and songwriting. Even practice has a philosophy. The book "Practicing: A Musician's Return to Music" by Glenn Kurtz discusses how Mr. Kurtz went from being an aspiring professional classical guitarist and, eventually, learns to just play for himself. This book really has helped me focus when I practice and refocus when I lose sight of what I'm doing. I would definitely suggest you watch "It Might Get Loud" or read "Practicing."
What are some of your favorite things to learn about music and why?
I have always been a curious person and music may be a curious person's wonderland. There are so many facets of music that can be learned. You can learn instruments, theory, philosophy, sight reading, composition, history, etc. Instruments can be fun and challenging, as well as practical for music therapists. In my job in hospice, I get a chance to meet with people who have played all kinds of instruments. Many have played piano and sang, but occasionally I meet a client who used to play band instruments and, I might be able to create a therapeutic experience simply by playing a clarinet, trumpet, or whatever they used to play. I don't often do this, mostly because I don't know a ton of band instruments enough to play in a session. I would love to get that point, though.
History is another interesting aspect to learn for music therapists. Many times, I can tie in a story that a patient told me with the story behind a song. This makes the client feel more connected with the music and can help them open up to me, as well. Everybody has a story, and I love to hear them.
So far, I've just mentioned a few ways learning can be therapeutic for my clients, so I'll talk a little bit about one of my favorite aspects of music. I'm a huge fan of learning about music philosophy. I'm always so interested in people's thoughts when they are composing. For instance, one of my favorite movies at this moment is "It Might Get Loud", where three great guitarists (The Edge, Jimmy Page, and Jack White) talk about their approach to guitar and songwriting. Even practice has a philosophy. The book "Practicing: A Musician's Return to Music" by Glenn Kurtz discusses how Mr. Kurtz went from being an aspiring professional classical guitarist and, eventually, learns to just play for himself. This book really has helped me focus when I practice and refocus when I lose sight of what I'm doing. I would definitely suggest you watch "It Might Get Loud" or read "Practicing."
What are some of your favorite things to learn about music and why?
Friday, July 1, 2011
Music in the environment
A few posts ago, I discussed how I use music as my own personal therapy. I gave four ways that I intentionally use music to enrich my life and mentioned that maybe I'd try to break each of these down at some point. Well, my friends, that time has come.
I guess I should start by stating what exactly I mean by "environment". Essentially, I mean that music is playing for anyone within ear shot to hear. For people to hear, people need to be around. Seems basic enough, right? For me, then, music in the environment is used to foster social support and promote interaction. I'm not a very extroverted person. I'm the guy at the wedding reception who stands off to the side and watches people dance not because I can't dance (although that's what I'll say whenever someone tries to get me to do it), but because there are always so many people out there dancing. Plus, it's too loud for me to talk over, so I end up just moving around, trying not to bump into people, and not talking. Knowing this, then, maybe it makes more sense that I try to use music as a way to break the ice in small groups. I love talking with people about music and playing new music for people. Many times, I will just put a record on and talk with people when they come over to visit. It seems that when people hear music that they know they don't have to listen to, they feel more inclined to talk. This includes myself.
One reason I bring all this up is that it appears that music is becoming a personal experience. People have mp3 players and headphones nowadays, not radios in their homes. Computers have speakers, but I bet if you go to coffee shop, you'll find that people with computers are using headphones, isolating themselves from potentially disruptive stimuli. I can't help but wonder how this isolation affects us as people in the 21st century. We can listen to what we want to listen to through headphones. We can watch what we want to watch on one of hundreds of channels. We can decide who we do and do not interact with by denying "friend requests." We can essentially create our own world where we don't talk to people, listen to music, watch shows, or hear news we don't like. This may make us less annoyed, but is that really how many of us want to live?
These ideas have implications for music therapy. Yesterday, I did a music therapy session for a gentleman where we had arranged to pick up lunch for him at his favorite restaurant, and brought along several of his friends that would meet there. I played music and, for the first song they listened quietly and clapped. I said, after that, "What are some stories you have of Eddie?" and that got the ball rolling. People started telling stories back and forth and, once they were in a good pace, I started playing again. You could tell that the stories got more animated the longer I played and, when I decided to eat my lunch, the stories slowed down more. I wish I had kept playing, and was planning on it, but people started to leave. The music seemed to, for that period of time, spur on conversation and interaction between old friends.
Trygve Aasgaard talks a lot more about music therapy as an environmental factor in his chapter in "Music Therapy in Palliative Care: New Voices" edited by David Aldridge. Aasgaard's chapter, entitled "Music Therapy as Milieu in the Hospice and Paediatric Oncology Ward", holds a lot of information about how environmental music therapy is used at his hospice in Oslo. Check it out!
I guess I should start by stating what exactly I mean by "environment". Essentially, I mean that music is playing for anyone within ear shot to hear. For people to hear, people need to be around. Seems basic enough, right? For me, then, music in the environment is used to foster social support and promote interaction. I'm not a very extroverted person. I'm the guy at the wedding reception who stands off to the side and watches people dance not because I can't dance (although that's what I'll say whenever someone tries to get me to do it), but because there are always so many people out there dancing. Plus, it's too loud for me to talk over, so I end up just moving around, trying not to bump into people, and not talking. Knowing this, then, maybe it makes more sense that I try to use music as a way to break the ice in small groups. I love talking with people about music and playing new music for people. Many times, I will just put a record on and talk with people when they come over to visit. It seems that when people hear music that they know they don't have to listen to, they feel more inclined to talk. This includes myself.
One reason I bring all this up is that it appears that music is becoming a personal experience. People have mp3 players and headphones nowadays, not radios in their homes. Computers have speakers, but I bet if you go to coffee shop, you'll find that people with computers are using headphones, isolating themselves from potentially disruptive stimuli. I can't help but wonder how this isolation affects us as people in the 21st century. We can listen to what we want to listen to through headphones. We can watch what we want to watch on one of hundreds of channels. We can decide who we do and do not interact with by denying "friend requests." We can essentially create our own world where we don't talk to people, listen to music, watch shows, or hear news we don't like. This may make us less annoyed, but is that really how many of us want to live?
These ideas have implications for music therapy. Yesterday, I did a music therapy session for a gentleman where we had arranged to pick up lunch for him at his favorite restaurant, and brought along several of his friends that would meet there. I played music and, for the first song they listened quietly and clapped. I said, after that, "What are some stories you have of Eddie?" and that got the ball rolling. People started telling stories back and forth and, once they were in a good pace, I started playing again. You could tell that the stories got more animated the longer I played and, when I decided to eat my lunch, the stories slowed down more. I wish I had kept playing, and was planning on it, but people started to leave. The music seemed to, for that period of time, spur on conversation and interaction between old friends.
Trygve Aasgaard talks a lot more about music therapy as an environmental factor in his chapter in "Music Therapy in Palliative Care: New Voices" edited by David Aldridge. Aasgaard's chapter, entitled "Music Therapy as Milieu in the Hospice and Paediatric Oncology Ward", holds a lot of information about how environmental music therapy is used at his hospice in Oslo. Check it out!
Friday, June 24, 2011
Wedding season is in full swing
Lately, I've been inundated with weddings and, when you are a musician, that means several weekend gigs over the course of a few months. I decided to do a quick little post about some of the music I have done at weddings so far. I actually don't think I have any more weddings to sing at (although I'm standing up in two more), so this makes a good time to recap what I've done in weddings.
Song #1 - Everlong by The Foo Fighters
Before I write anything, listen and watch this video of the original, pre-Bryan version.
My first thoughts, the strumming seems a little too percussive and the vocals are a little to raw/edgy for a traditional wedding. The bride and groom requested to keep all the lyrics as written and asked for it to be "slower", which I found out meant less percussive. Apparently, my computer or myself is unable to post video of the final outcome (turns out "young people" can be technologically deficient). I'll try to explain what I did. After I reworked the song, I played traditional chords instead of the power chords, but kept the same chords themselves (Dmaj7, B9, G9) and played the guitar line that goes with the pre-chorus an octave higher, enabling me to stay closer to the headstock of the guitar. The strumming was almost a campfire strum, with some syncopated accents to bring in the original strumming patterns. I would love to show you (whoever happens to read this), but, as I stated earlier, YouTube does not like me or my computer.
Song #2 - Come Thou Fount
This song is a fairly familiar hymn, so I didn't have to change very much. The girl who sang it with me is a friend of mine, which was fun. She sings in a very pretty mezzo-soprano voice and I have a tenor voice. That meant that if we both wanted to sing the melody the whole time, it could be a wee bit trebly, which isn't always enjoyable. Because she is a soprano, I decided she could have the melody for the whole song (which just fits into the stereotype, doesn't it?). I wanted to change up the song to keep it interesting for the friends and family who drove from all over Iowa (and beyond) to come to the wedding. I split it up as such:
Verse 1- finger picking guitar; voices in unison
Verse 2- finger picking guitar; voices singing harmonies
Verse 3- whole notes plucked with fingers on guitar for first half of verse, then finger picking; voices singing different harmonies
I thought it went pretty well, but I'm not aware of any recording that happened to post a video or sound clip of the whole song.
Song #3 - Song of Ruth, arr. by Eilers
This was in the same wedding as Come Thou Fount (which I also ushered in). It is a really pretty SATB arrangement of (you guessed it), the Song of Ruth found in (right again) the book of Ruth in the Bible. Essentially, in the Bible story, Ruth is saying she will follow Naomi, her mother-in-law, after her son (Ruth's husband) dies. Noami urges Ruth to go back to "her own people", but Ruth pledges her loyalty to her mother-in-law through this song. Basically, it says, where ever you go, I'll go. This song was a great choice the by couple, as the groom has been teaching in Tanzania and the bride had to give up her job and life here in the United States to teach for a few years with him in Africa. The song is written in a "churchy" style, which I hadn't sung in for a year or two. Because it was already written, I didn't have to arrange anything this time and just had to focus on getting the notes and intonation down with the other singers. We didn't practice more than 2 or 3 times total, including the day of, so I was a little nervous, but it seemed to go well. It challenged me to sing out, something I'm notoriously bad at, and listen more to the other people singing, something I don't have to worry about most of the time for work.
Overall, I'd say that I'm very happy with the music for this year's wedding season. Each song challenged me in some way and I felt that the musical product was pretty good in each of them. I can only hope that they couples I helped enjoyed it at much as I enjoyed learning from the songs.
Song #1 - Everlong by The Foo Fighters
Before I write anything, listen and watch this video of the original, pre-Bryan version.
My first thoughts, the strumming seems a little too percussive and the vocals are a little to raw/edgy for a traditional wedding. The bride and groom requested to keep all the lyrics as written and asked for it to be "slower", which I found out meant less percussive. Apparently, my computer or myself is unable to post video of the final outcome (turns out "young people" can be technologically deficient). I'll try to explain what I did. After I reworked the song, I played traditional chords instead of the power chords, but kept the same chords themselves (Dmaj7, B9, G9) and played the guitar line that goes with the pre-chorus an octave higher, enabling me to stay closer to the headstock of the guitar. The strumming was almost a campfire strum, with some syncopated accents to bring in the original strumming patterns. I would love to show you (whoever happens to read this), but, as I stated earlier, YouTube does not like me or my computer.
Song #2 - Come Thou Fount
This song is a fairly familiar hymn, so I didn't have to change very much. The girl who sang it with me is a friend of mine, which was fun. She sings in a very pretty mezzo-soprano voice and I have a tenor voice. That meant that if we both wanted to sing the melody the whole time, it could be a wee bit trebly, which isn't always enjoyable. Because she is a soprano, I decided she could have the melody for the whole song (which just fits into the stereotype, doesn't it?). I wanted to change up the song to keep it interesting for the friends and family who drove from all over Iowa (and beyond) to come to the wedding. I split it up as such:
Verse 1- finger picking guitar; voices in unison
Verse 2- finger picking guitar; voices singing harmonies
Verse 3- whole notes plucked with fingers on guitar for first half of verse, then finger picking; voices singing different harmonies
I thought it went pretty well, but I'm not aware of any recording that happened to post a video or sound clip of the whole song.
Song #3 - Song of Ruth, arr. by Eilers
This was in the same wedding as Come Thou Fount (which I also ushered in). It is a really pretty SATB arrangement of (you guessed it), the Song of Ruth found in (right again) the book of Ruth in the Bible. Essentially, in the Bible story, Ruth is saying she will follow Naomi, her mother-in-law, after her son (Ruth's husband) dies. Noami urges Ruth to go back to "her own people", but Ruth pledges her loyalty to her mother-in-law through this song. Basically, it says, where ever you go, I'll go. This song was a great choice the by couple, as the groom has been teaching in Tanzania and the bride had to give up her job and life here in the United States to teach for a few years with him in Africa. The song is written in a "churchy" style, which I hadn't sung in for a year or two. Because it was already written, I didn't have to arrange anything this time and just had to focus on getting the notes and intonation down with the other singers. We didn't practice more than 2 or 3 times total, including the day of, so I was a little nervous, but it seemed to go well. It challenged me to sing out, something I'm notoriously bad at, and listen more to the other people singing, something I don't have to worry about most of the time for work.
Overall, I'd say that I'm very happy with the music for this year's wedding season. Each song challenged me in some way and I felt that the musical product was pretty good in each of them. I can only hope that they couples I helped enjoyed it at much as I enjoyed learning from the songs.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Music is my therapy too
I think that, occasionally, it's work stating that music is really cool. This statement may make you think "Duh! If it wasn't, you wouldn't be a music therapist!" Before you change pages, however, hear me out. As music therapists, or any other professional who makes a living doing something they love, I think it may be easy to let your love of music (art, recreation, etc) become a bit of a burden. I've talked with a few music therapists who, like me, play music for hours a day, but once they get home, music is not part of their lives. I guess I've only heard it a few times, but it always disturbs me a little bit. If a music therapist loses sight of music as an amazing recreational activity, the therapeutic use of music therapy may become a just a job. Maybe this is the Millennial in me talking, but I want my job to be more than a pay check. I want it to be a calling, a mission, and a sense of fulfillment.
I understand, however, that through the sheer amount of time we spend playing music, we get worn out. If I play guitar all day, and then get home and play all night, I don't only have to worry about carpal tunnel (or other physical ailments). If music was only an activity where I play by myself, I could alienate my wife and other people I love. Therefore, this week, I've been thinking about ways that I use music as therapy for myself.
1) Music in the environment - Turn some music on when you get home. This sounds really basic, but I think people don't always think of this as therapeutic. At home, I like to play music while my wife and I go about our afternoon and evening. It always varies and we take turns choosing the music. My wife and I have some different tastes in music, so we end up learning new music. My wife listens to the radio (country and top 40) and I listen to music that doesn't get a lot of radio play (a lot of independent, experiemental music), so I get introduced to popular music and she gets introduced to music that tends to stretch the ears a bit.
2) Learning about music - I've always enjoyed learning. I like learning new music and musical instruments. My wife likes to poke fun at the number of instruments I've acquired (and still want). Whether I'm getting better at instruments I already have a basic understanding of (like the mandolin, cavaquinho, or violin) or learning something completely different (like the clarinet I got for my birthday), I just enjoy the challenge of learning.
3) Composition - Writing music is probably the most active way I use music as therapy for myself. Even if I don't necessarily sit down to write and process my life's events, they usually end up somewhere in my music. Sometimes, I realize it and consciously choose not to include it in my music, but sometimes it really seems to fit with the song and I keep it. There are other times that I sit down to vent my frustrations and anxieties (or joys), and even if I never end up playing those songs, they help me process the events that brought on the music. It's like holding a mirror to my emotional self.
4) Silence - Believe it or not, sometimes not using music can be just as therapeutic to me as listening, playing, or writing music. Our modern, fast-paced world seems to be very noisy and sometimes I forget what it's like to hear the world, instead of cars, television, and music. I recently took my dog for a walk and forgot my iPod. It was a fantastic time outside and I was reminded how the birds sounded. Now, when I go for a walk or run, I don't bring my iPod, because the world can give me enough to listen to.
I guess that's all I'll write about today. Perhaps over the next couple weeks, I'll expand each of these, because I'm pretty sure I could write for quite a while on each of these subjects.
I understand, however, that through the sheer amount of time we spend playing music, we get worn out. If I play guitar all day, and then get home and play all night, I don't only have to worry about carpal tunnel (or other physical ailments). If music was only an activity where I play by myself, I could alienate my wife and other people I love. Therefore, this week, I've been thinking about ways that I use music as therapy for myself.
1) Music in the environment - Turn some music on when you get home. This sounds really basic, but I think people don't always think of this as therapeutic. At home, I like to play music while my wife and I go about our afternoon and evening. It always varies and we take turns choosing the music. My wife and I have some different tastes in music, so we end up learning new music. My wife listens to the radio (country and top 40) and I listen to music that doesn't get a lot of radio play (a lot of independent, experiemental music), so I get introduced to popular music and she gets introduced to music that tends to stretch the ears a bit.
2) Learning about music - I've always enjoyed learning. I like learning new music and musical instruments. My wife likes to poke fun at the number of instruments I've acquired (and still want). Whether I'm getting better at instruments I already have a basic understanding of (like the mandolin, cavaquinho, or violin) or learning something completely different (like the clarinet I got for my birthday), I just enjoy the challenge of learning.
3) Composition - Writing music is probably the most active way I use music as therapy for myself. Even if I don't necessarily sit down to write and process my life's events, they usually end up somewhere in my music. Sometimes, I realize it and consciously choose not to include it in my music, but sometimes it really seems to fit with the song and I keep it. There are other times that I sit down to vent my frustrations and anxieties (or joys), and even if I never end up playing those songs, they help me process the events that brought on the music. It's like holding a mirror to my emotional self.
4) Silence - Believe it or not, sometimes not using music can be just as therapeutic to me as listening, playing, or writing music. Our modern, fast-paced world seems to be very noisy and sometimes I forget what it's like to hear the world, instead of cars, television, and music. I recently took my dog for a walk and forgot my iPod. It was a fantastic time outside and I was reminded how the birds sounded. Now, when I go for a walk or run, I don't bring my iPod, because the world can give me enough to listen to.
I guess that's all I'll write about today. Perhaps over the next couple weeks, I'll expand each of these, because I'm pretty sure I could write for quite a while on each of these subjects.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Balance
Yesterday, I listened to the new The Music Therapy Show with Janice Harris podcast, which was about balance between work and life. This morning, I saw a quick news report about Millennials in the workplace. A stat they posted during the story was that 34% of young people entering the job force stated that work-life balance is the top priority in choosing a new job. This seems to be a sign that I should follow suit and cover this topic myself.
First off, I feel I should define the word "Millennials." Millennials are the new generation that is just starting to enter the workforce. Millennials come after Generation X (starting around 1986 or so). As a Millennial myself, I feel I can give some insight into this age range. The following statement are generalities and may not be true for everyone, but seem to be a trend. For our whole lives, we've been told we're the best at everything. We have been termed the "Trophy Children" because every little achievement is celebrated. Because of this, we may have been coddled too much and may feel a sense of entitlement when we enter the work place (Heaven knows, I've been guilty of this). We are hard workers, though, and when given the right environment, we can thrive and be quite productive. If you want to read a little more on this new generation, find a copy of The M-Factor: How Millennials are Rocking the Workplace by Lynne C. Lancaster and David Stillman.
This idea of work-life balance seems to be a trend not being adapted only by Millennials, but by others. Self-care can be so important, especially in care giving roles, such as music therapists, nurses, social workers, etc. We seem to want to be a bottomless well of support and assistance, but eventually, we need to take care of ourselves. I've heard of several studies that show a correlation between burnout and poor self-care/coping strategies. If we want to keep doing our job effectively (and enjoy what we do), we need to refill our wells.
I realized pretty early on that I needed to refill, so here are some things I do to take care of myself. The first (and probably biggest thing I did), was change my schedule. I now work 4 10-hour days. I can see more people in one area, which helps me feel more effective, and cuts a day of travel out of the week. This also gives me one floating "mental health"/"domestic duties" day, where I can relax a little bit (right now, I'm sitting in my favorite local coffee shop) and take care of the things around the house that I feel to tired to do after a day of work. Usually, I feel this way regardless of whether I work 8 or 10 hours. Needless to say, my wife appreciates the work I can do at home on my day off. Usually, I take off Fridays, but I like to change it up.
As I discussed in my 4 P's of Coping with Windshield Time post, I do a lot of self-care in the car. It's important for me to process, especially. When I'm aware of my emotions and how they affect the clients I see, I can deal with them effectively. It's like treating the illness instead of the symptoms. I can deal with what causes my emotions instead of simply ignoring my emotions and pretending that other people can't see them.
The last thing I'll write about is taking time to do things you enjoy. I try to go for a run at least 3 times a week (not always fun while I'm doing it, but I feel better afterward). When I get a little spare time on a Saturday morning, I like to play my old Nintendo 64 (and laugh at how poor the picture quality is versus modern systems). Reading books, especially my Bible, are also something I try to make time for.
What are some things you do to balance your work and life?
First off, I feel I should define the word "Millennials." Millennials are the new generation that is just starting to enter the workforce. Millennials come after Generation X (starting around 1986 or so). As a Millennial myself, I feel I can give some insight into this age range. The following statement are generalities and may not be true for everyone, but seem to be a trend. For our whole lives, we've been told we're the best at everything. We have been termed the "Trophy Children" because every little achievement is celebrated. Because of this, we may have been coddled too much and may feel a sense of entitlement when we enter the work place (Heaven knows, I've been guilty of this). We are hard workers, though, and when given the right environment, we can thrive and be quite productive. If you want to read a little more on this new generation, find a copy of The M-Factor: How Millennials are Rocking the Workplace by Lynne C. Lancaster and David Stillman.
This idea of work-life balance seems to be a trend not being adapted only by Millennials, but by others. Self-care can be so important, especially in care giving roles, such as music therapists, nurses, social workers, etc. We seem to want to be a bottomless well of support and assistance, but eventually, we need to take care of ourselves. I've heard of several studies that show a correlation between burnout and poor self-care/coping strategies. If we want to keep doing our job effectively (and enjoy what we do), we need to refill our wells.
I realized pretty early on that I needed to refill, so here are some things I do to take care of myself. The first (and probably biggest thing I did), was change my schedule. I now work 4 10-hour days. I can see more people in one area, which helps me feel more effective, and cuts a day of travel out of the week. This also gives me one floating "mental health"/"domestic duties" day, where I can relax a little bit (right now, I'm sitting in my favorite local coffee shop) and take care of the things around the house that I feel to tired to do after a day of work. Usually, I feel this way regardless of whether I work 8 or 10 hours. Needless to say, my wife appreciates the work I can do at home on my day off. Usually, I take off Fridays, but I like to change it up.
As I discussed in my 4 P's of Coping with Windshield Time post, I do a lot of self-care in the car. It's important for me to process, especially. When I'm aware of my emotions and how they affect the clients I see, I can deal with them effectively. It's like treating the illness instead of the symptoms. I can deal with what causes my emotions instead of simply ignoring my emotions and pretending that other people can't see them.
The last thing I'll write about is taking time to do things you enjoy. I try to go for a run at least 3 times a week (not always fun while I'm doing it, but I feel better afterward). When I get a little spare time on a Saturday morning, I like to play my old Nintendo 64 (and laugh at how poor the picture quality is versus modern systems). Reading books, especially my Bible, are also something I try to make time for.
What are some things you do to balance your work and life?
Friday, May 13, 2011
Being Bold
Disclaimer: It was pointed out to me that this post sounds like it might be in competition with my current job. In no way do I desire to leave my current job. This post is my attempt to encourage advocacy through sharing one instance where I have advocated for my profession.
Today, I met with someone about doing music therapy at the local hospital on my day off. I work 4 10-hour days to cut down on driving time and I thought, "Hey! I've got a day off, I might as well use it to get some more experience." So, a few weeks ago, I called up the manager of the pediatric center and told her about what I'd like to talk with her about. This is me being bold. It may not seem like it to some of you extroverts, but I did something which was contrary to my typical personality. First of all, I made the initiative to make the call. Second of all, it was a cold call. We had never spoken before. Lastly, I asserted myself as someone who can help provide a specialized service. It was hard for me to essentially say, "I would like to help make your services better." It's usually easy for me to downplay myself, but I couldn't do that this time. If I wanted to be taken seriously, I knew I needed to take myself seriously (another bold move on my part).
To my surprise, the manager was not only interested, but said she'd like to meet with me ASAP. When we were done talking, I called up her secretary and scheduled our meeting. Then I began researching, reading, and freaking out slightly.
The meeting was today. We met over coffee and it was a meeting genuinely filled with excitement and ideas. It turned out that she has much bigger plans than I initially thought (this time she was bold). I came in with the idea of just working with the pediatric and birthing centers. She was thinking bigger. We started talking about how music therapy can be more than a "treatment" for patients, but can create a supportive culture in the work place and even be preventative medicine on many levels. We discussed how music therapy can compliment medicinal pain treatments and, sometimes, keep medicines from needing to be used. As the meeting progressed, we became more and more excited.
We parted after about an hour with a follow-up visit in the works. She wants my resume, scope of practice, a job description, and access to some research articles. I left the meeting feeling very empowered and optimistic. I'm not going to quit my "day job" (not that I want to, anyway), but I feel that big things might be in the works. And it all came about because I decided to be bold, call someone I didn't know, and tell them I want to help.
If I can be bold, anybody can. I'm not an extrovert. I'm not overly sure about myself most times. I'm not entirely sure why I called, but I did and, if nothing else, I helped make someone else excited about music therapy. We'll see what happens from here on out.
If you have the time, post a comment about a time when you were bold (be it with music therapy or life in general) and how it worked out.
Today, I met with someone about doing music therapy at the local hospital on my day off. I work 4 10-hour days to cut down on driving time and I thought, "Hey! I've got a day off, I might as well use it to get some more experience." So, a few weeks ago, I called up the manager of the pediatric center and told her about what I'd like to talk with her about. This is me being bold. It may not seem like it to some of you extroverts, but I did something which was contrary to my typical personality. First of all, I made the initiative to make the call. Second of all, it was a cold call. We had never spoken before. Lastly, I asserted myself as someone who can help provide a specialized service. It was hard for me to essentially say, "I would like to help make your services better." It's usually easy for me to downplay myself, but I couldn't do that this time. If I wanted to be taken seriously, I knew I needed to take myself seriously (another bold move on my part).
To my surprise, the manager was not only interested, but said she'd like to meet with me ASAP. When we were done talking, I called up her secretary and scheduled our meeting. Then I began researching, reading, and freaking out slightly.
The meeting was today. We met over coffee and it was a meeting genuinely filled with excitement and ideas. It turned out that she has much bigger plans than I initially thought (this time she was bold). I came in with the idea of just working with the pediatric and birthing centers. She was thinking bigger. We started talking about how music therapy can be more than a "treatment" for patients, but can create a supportive culture in the work place and even be preventative medicine on many levels. We discussed how music therapy can compliment medicinal pain treatments and, sometimes, keep medicines from needing to be used. As the meeting progressed, we became more and more excited.
We parted after about an hour with a follow-up visit in the works. She wants my resume, scope of practice, a job description, and access to some research articles. I left the meeting feeling very empowered and optimistic. I'm not going to quit my "day job" (not that I want to, anyway), but I feel that big things might be in the works. And it all came about because I decided to be bold, call someone I didn't know, and tell them I want to help.
If I can be bold, anybody can. I'm not an extrovert. I'm not overly sure about myself most times. I'm not entirely sure why I called, but I did and, if nothing else, I helped make someone else excited about music therapy. We'll see what happens from here on out.
If you have the time, post a comment about a time when you were bold (be it with music therapy or life in general) and how it worked out.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Memorials
As the end of May grows closer, I notice my schedule being inundated with a kind of appointment that usually shows up in force one time a year. Yes, my friends, memorial services are being planned and people want us, as music therapists, to provide the music for the event. I don't mind, really, because I believe my job is not to support only the clients in the time leading up to death, but also the clients' families and friends during and after the death. In nursing homes, where I have a lot of clients, people make friends, but the friends can rarely attend the funeral of someone if it means traveling outside the facility. Even if their physical mobility and mental status allow them to attend, they need to find someone to bring them, because most residents do not have a driver's license any more. The facility rarely has enough people working on a shift to spare some to make this trip and the families of residents often have their own lives that are dictating where to be and when to be there. This leaves the friends of clients at the facility, unable to have the closure and ritual celebration of life that often comes with a funeral.
As I'm working with activity coordinators in facilities, I often hear that people want a song or two that are simply reflective and will only be sung by the music therapist. This is understandable. Sometimes that songs that seem to connect to the level of grief of the residents are not songs that are well known. I always try to choose songs that express a level of grief and, when I do more than one, to connect to different levels of grief.
Throughout the year, I try to listen for songs that may be useful in my work with hospice, especially memorial services. I decided I would post a couple songs on this blog that may be useful to others that I feel are fitting memorial songs that people may not know very well, or know at all. When people don't know a song at all, I find, they listen to the words more closely, so the words may be that much more powerful.
Here are three songs I plan on doing at one memorial service. I may post some more as I see them.
Oh, My Brother - Eddie From Ohio (album: I Rode Fido Home)
I couldn't find a youtube video for this song. Really great song about supporting each other through hard times. Also talks about saying goodbye, which would be a good talking point if you speak before or after songs. Even if your loved one isn't here to hear it, it's important to say goodbye.
http://www.last.fm/music/Eddie+From+Ohio/_/Oh+My+Brother
I Find Your Love - Beth Nielsen Chapman (album: Look)
From a whole album written after her husband died. This album chronicles her journey of grief and is really beautiful. Any song from "Look" would make a great memorial service song. In my internship, they did two community memorial services each year and the one I worked on used only songs from Beth Nielsen Chapman
Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World - Israel Kamamawiwo'ole
He was a big guy with a big heart. I really love his music. This video was made after he died and you can see them pouring his ashes into the ocean.
As I'm working with activity coordinators in facilities, I often hear that people want a song or two that are simply reflective and will only be sung by the music therapist. This is understandable. Sometimes that songs that seem to connect to the level of grief of the residents are not songs that are well known. I always try to choose songs that express a level of grief and, when I do more than one, to connect to different levels of grief.
Throughout the year, I try to listen for songs that may be useful in my work with hospice, especially memorial services. I decided I would post a couple songs on this blog that may be useful to others that I feel are fitting memorial songs that people may not know very well, or know at all. When people don't know a song at all, I find, they listen to the words more closely, so the words may be that much more powerful.
Here are three songs I plan on doing at one memorial service. I may post some more as I see them.
Oh, My Brother - Eddie From Ohio (album: I Rode Fido Home)
I couldn't find a youtube video for this song. Really great song about supporting each other through hard times. Also talks about saying goodbye, which would be a good talking point if you speak before or after songs. Even if your loved one isn't here to hear it, it's important to say goodbye.
http://www.last.fm/music/Eddie+From+Ohio/_/Oh+My+Brother
I Find Your Love - Beth Nielsen Chapman (album: Look)
From a whole album written after her husband died. This album chronicles her journey of grief and is really beautiful. Any song from "Look" would make a great memorial service song. In my internship, they did two community memorial services each year and the one I worked on used only songs from Beth Nielsen Chapman
Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World - Israel Kamamawiwo'ole
He was a big guy with a big heart. I really love his music. This video was made after he died and you can see them pouring his ashes into the ocean.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Breathing in, breathing out
There have been several life changes for lately. Pretty big ones. I don't want to get into everything that happened, but let's suffice it to say that stress abounds. I have had to implement my own relaxation techniques to keep above water sometimes. I've been doing relaxation exercises with clients and started a relaxation group in my internship. I should have this relaxation thing figured out, right? Sure, if you count knowing and not doing it. Actually doing it, however, is a different story.
I have started to really re-evaluate how I take care of myself starting with how I perceive and deal with stress in my body. I'm starting simply by paying attention to breath. Breathing, it seems obvious to say, is your body's attempt to fuel your body, bring life-sustaining oxygen into your body, and remove poisonous carbon dioxide. Breath can not only keep your body moving, but is also a fairly reliable way to convey emotions. Fast, shallow breaths can convey anxiety. Slow, deep breaths can show a sense of peace and calmness. Being aware of how we breathe may make us aware of emotions and physical sensations that we, as busy modern people, tend to push down and ignore. I've started to take five minutes each day and just breathe.
I encourage anyone reading this to do likewise. Start by sitting in a comfortable position, feet on the floor, shoulders hanging loosely. I usually put on some music and just breathe, concentrating on how it feels to breathe, and trying to pay attention only to my breath or the music. I never try to change how I'm breathing, because I don't want to change how I feel. I simply want to experience the way my body feels and my emotions. By feeling, experiencing, and breathing, I'm able to manage my stress and start to relax.
Sorry for the short post. With Easter travels around the corner, I need to start packing!
I have started to really re-evaluate how I take care of myself starting with how I perceive and deal with stress in my body. I'm starting simply by paying attention to breath. Breathing, it seems obvious to say, is your body's attempt to fuel your body, bring life-sustaining oxygen into your body, and remove poisonous carbon dioxide. Breath can not only keep your body moving, but is also a fairly reliable way to convey emotions. Fast, shallow breaths can convey anxiety. Slow, deep breaths can show a sense of peace and calmness. Being aware of how we breathe may make us aware of emotions and physical sensations that we, as busy modern people, tend to push down and ignore. I've started to take five minutes each day and just breathe.
I encourage anyone reading this to do likewise. Start by sitting in a comfortable position, feet on the floor, shoulders hanging loosely. I usually put on some music and just breathe, concentrating on how it feels to breathe, and trying to pay attention only to my breath or the music. I never try to change how I'm breathing, because I don't want to change how I feel. I simply want to experience the way my body feels and my emotions. By feeling, experiencing, and breathing, I'm able to manage my stress and start to relax.
Sorry for the short post. With Easter travels around the corner, I need to start packing!
Friday, April 15, 2011
Insights: Amazing Grace
Amazing Grace seems to be the quintessential hymn of the United States. People from almost all Christian faiths, and even some who really have no affiliation with Christianity, find comfort in this hymn. Case in point, I seem to play Amazing Grace at least once a day. I try to get away from it sometimes, but it always comes creeping back up. As I've sung it over and over and over, and gotten to the point where sometimes I tend to zone out while I play it, I've had a few personal insights about this hymn that I feel compelled to share.
Insight #1 - Word usage in this song can be a little demeaning, I think. This of course depends on the patient, but sometimes I have a hard time calling someone a "wretch". Say that word out loud. Let the sounds slowly roll off your tongue. It's an ugly word. According to dictionary.com, a wretch is a) a deplorably unfortunate or unhappy person or b) a person of despicable or base character. Working in hospice, the last thing I want to do it tell people they are despicable or deplorable. Even some churches have a hard time with this word, too. One church I went to changed the wording from "that saved a wretch like me" to "that saved and set me free." Not a bad change, I suppose, but anytime I've tried that, it doesn't come out feeling natural. Instead, I have taken to using the word "soul" instead of "wretch". Just the vowels alone make a big difference for me. The e vowel in "wretch", to me, sounds tight, pinched off, and I can't say it without bearing my teeth on some level. My body tends to feel like the sounds and faces I'm making. How can I help someone feel comforted or relaxed when I'm making that face. The o vowel is "soul" sounds, to me, to be open, pure, and vulnerable, just like I want my clients to be with me, and vice versa. I should not expect my client to open up to me when I'm presenting him or her with a closed off appearance and actions.
Insight #2 - The melody of Amazing Grace is easily recognized with everyone I've met on a therapeutic level. Because of the tune's recognition, it automatically can tie in with people's emotions. I have seen many people cry, even weep, while hearing this song. Sometimes the tears seem to be from sadness at having to let a loved one die, sometimes from relief, and sometimes from just having to release all the tension they've been feeling for so long. If this hymn, which was first published in 1779, can be so powerful, how much more powerful can it be when it is personalized to the client. I have tried to add improvised verses for people and changed words within the verses ("When you've been there ten thousand years..."), which has seems to make it more meaningful for clients. One extra verse, which I learned in my internship, has consistently achieved a deeper connection, however. I tend to use this verse when a client is imminent especially when his or her family is present. To the same melody, I'll sing:
Dear Charlie (client's name), you are loved, you are loved, you are loved.
Dear Charlie, you are loved so much.
Dear Charlie, you are loved by your family and God above.
Dear Charlie, you are loved. You are loved.
By using this verse, I'm validating the client and letting them know they are loved by their family. Simultaneously, I'm validating the family and letting them know I can sense the love they have for their mother, father, sister, brother, or friend. It's a simple verse, but has had a large impact on how I approach this song.
Those are all the insights I have at this time. I hope that you all have a great weekend!
Insight #1 - Word usage in this song can be a little demeaning, I think. This of course depends on the patient, but sometimes I have a hard time calling someone a "wretch". Say that word out loud. Let the sounds slowly roll off your tongue. It's an ugly word. According to dictionary.com, a wretch is a) a deplorably unfortunate or unhappy person or b) a person of despicable or base character. Working in hospice, the last thing I want to do it tell people they are despicable or deplorable. Even some churches have a hard time with this word, too. One church I went to changed the wording from "that saved a wretch like me" to "that saved and set me free." Not a bad change, I suppose, but anytime I've tried that, it doesn't come out feeling natural. Instead, I have taken to using the word "soul" instead of "wretch". Just the vowels alone make a big difference for me. The e vowel in "wretch", to me, sounds tight, pinched off, and I can't say it without bearing my teeth on some level. My body tends to feel like the sounds and faces I'm making. How can I help someone feel comforted or relaxed when I'm making that face. The o vowel is "soul" sounds, to me, to be open, pure, and vulnerable, just like I want my clients to be with me, and vice versa. I should not expect my client to open up to me when I'm presenting him or her with a closed off appearance and actions.
Insight #2 - The melody of Amazing Grace is easily recognized with everyone I've met on a therapeutic level. Because of the tune's recognition, it automatically can tie in with people's emotions. I have seen many people cry, even weep, while hearing this song. Sometimes the tears seem to be from sadness at having to let a loved one die, sometimes from relief, and sometimes from just having to release all the tension they've been feeling for so long. If this hymn, which was first published in 1779, can be so powerful, how much more powerful can it be when it is personalized to the client. I have tried to add improvised verses for people and changed words within the verses ("When you've been there ten thousand years..."), which has seems to make it more meaningful for clients. One extra verse, which I learned in my internship, has consistently achieved a deeper connection, however. I tend to use this verse when a client is imminent especially when his or her family is present. To the same melody, I'll sing:
Dear Charlie (client's name), you are loved, you are loved, you are loved.
Dear Charlie, you are loved so much.
Dear Charlie, you are loved by your family and God above.
Dear Charlie, you are loved. You are loved.
By using this verse, I'm validating the client and letting them know they are loved by their family. Simultaneously, I'm validating the family and letting them know I can sense the love they have for their mother, father, sister, brother, or friend. It's a simple verse, but has had a large impact on how I approach this song.
Those are all the insights I have at this time. I hope that you all have a great weekend!
Friday, April 8, 2011
Story: Look Homeward, Angel
This story happened in my internship. I had a client, who I'll call Mary, who was in her late 80s. She had lived a very interesting life, having had several husbands, all of whom were involved in music somehow. Some were leaders of big bands, some were regional DJs, and some of whom just went to as many concerts as conceivably possible. She talked about how she had seen music progress and change throughout her life and, although she had differing views as to its value at times, she was always pleased to see progress. My supervisor, in her great wisdom, told me after hearing about Mary that I could not go into a session with Mary with any pre-composed music. At first it really scared me to think about that. Pre-composed music (meaning anything that's already been written) is pretty much the staple of how I do things. I like to write music, but the idea of improvising music on the spot really intimidated me.
I decided to be open and honest with my client, and said, "I like to write music, Mary, but sometimes I'm afraid I'll just make mistakes trying to hard." Mary looked at me, right in the eyes, and said, "The only mistake you can make is not seeing the potential in your mess ups." That quote might be the single most influential thing someone has said to me.
Later that session, she said to me, "I'm trying to remember a song. I think my husband wrote it. The beginning goes like this: 'Look homeward, angel, and tell me what you see, Do the folks I used to know still remember me.' Do you know it?" Of course I did not know it (she said she wasn't even sure he had ever recorded it) so she said, "Well, then. Make it up." We then wrote this song together, called Look Homeward, Angel. I originally wanted to post a video, but apparently I'm not that technologically advanced (or my computer has been dropped one too many times), so I'll write out the lyrics and let you make up the melody yourself. I think Mary would want it that way.
Look homeward, angel, tell me what you see.
Do the folks I used to know still remember me?
Look homeward, angel, and tell me what you smell.
I decided to be open and honest with my client, and said, "I like to write music, Mary, but sometimes I'm afraid I'll just make mistakes trying to hard." Mary looked at me, right in the eyes, and said, "The only mistake you can make is not seeing the potential in your mess ups." That quote might be the single most influential thing someone has said to me.
Later that session, she said to me, "I'm trying to remember a song. I think my husband wrote it. The beginning goes like this: 'Look homeward, angel, and tell me what you see, Do the folks I used to know still remember me.' Do you know it?" Of course I did not know it (she said she wasn't even sure he had ever recorded it) so she said, "Well, then. Make it up." We then wrote this song together, called Look Homeward, Angel. I originally wanted to post a video, but apparently I'm not that technologically advanced (or my computer has been dropped one too many times), so I'll write out the lyrics and let you make up the melody yourself. I think Mary would want it that way.
Look homeward, angel, tell me what you see.
Do the folks I used to know still remember me?
Look homeward, angel, and tell me what you smell.
Are there flowers all around you, more than you can tell?
Look homeward, angel, tell me what you feel.
Is the light that covers you so warm and surreal?
Look homeward, angel, tell me what you hear.
Is the song that you're singing telling me you're near?
Thursday, March 31, 2011
4 P's of Coping with Windshield Time
Today, I finished my 2nd straight day of 300+ miles in the car, with another sure to follow tomorrow. I currently cover about 31 counties in Iowa. Usually it's 19 counties but I'm covering an office until we can fill their music therapy position. By the way, if anybody is looking for a music therapy position in hospice, check out iowa-hospice.com or ask me if you have any questions.
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I have struggled with the drive time in the past. What do you do when you're in the car for 2.5 hours, seeing some clients, and driving 2.5 hours home? Here's what my coping mechanisms have been lately:
1. Processing - Use the time to process your day. I feel that as a therapist, I need to constantly be aware of my thoughts and feelings. They affect what I do, say, and react when in a session. Driving gives me time to think about what just happened at my last client or what may potentially happen at my next one. This also helps me clear my mind from home to work, client to client, and work to home. Doing this helps me stay present in the moment with each client and keeps work from interrupting my home life.
2. Podcasts - There are a few music therapy podcasts out there. Check out Music Therapy Round Table, The Music Therapy Show with Janice Harris, and the Music Therapy Research Blog Podcast on iTunes. All have great information, insights, and give a sense of camaraderie with other music therapists, no matter where you are. I also check out podcasts from different sports (Puck Podcast), stories (StoryCorp), news (just about anything from NPR), music (All Songs Considered), and general knowledge (check out Stuff You Should Know).
3. Practice - I'm not very good at memorizing lyrics. Sometimes the best way for me to memorize is to sing them, butcher them, and try to fix it. Songwriters chose words purposefully (most of the time) and those words sound best together, so I try to stay true to what they've written. I will occasionally change words for therapeutic purposes, but that's a different subject for a different post. I sometimes sing with recordings if I have them or just try to fumble my way through without help. Also, I can practice writing songs, for an extra mental workout.
4. Pump it up - I'm a music therapist. Music is right in my job title. I really love music. Driving gives me a lot of time to explore new music and listen to old favorites. With such a wide territory, I get a variety of radio stations to choose from and, when they fail to interest me, I always have my iPod.
Hope this helps some of you. What do you do pass the time of driving, whether business or personal? Let me know!
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I have struggled with the drive time in the past. What do you do when you're in the car for 2.5 hours, seeing some clients, and driving 2.5 hours home? Here's what my coping mechanisms have been lately:
1. Processing - Use the time to process your day. I feel that as a therapist, I need to constantly be aware of my thoughts and feelings. They affect what I do, say, and react when in a session. Driving gives me time to think about what just happened at my last client or what may potentially happen at my next one. This also helps me clear my mind from home to work, client to client, and work to home. Doing this helps me stay present in the moment with each client and keeps work from interrupting my home life.
2. Podcasts - There are a few music therapy podcasts out there. Check out Music Therapy Round Table, The Music Therapy Show with Janice Harris, and the Music Therapy Research Blog Podcast on iTunes. All have great information, insights, and give a sense of camaraderie with other music therapists, no matter where you are. I also check out podcasts from different sports (Puck Podcast), stories (StoryCorp), news (just about anything from NPR), music (All Songs Considered), and general knowledge (check out Stuff You Should Know).
3. Practice - I'm not very good at memorizing lyrics. Sometimes the best way for me to memorize is to sing them, butcher them, and try to fix it. Songwriters chose words purposefully (most of the time) and those words sound best together, so I try to stay true to what they've written. I will occasionally change words for therapeutic purposes, but that's a different subject for a different post. I sometimes sing with recordings if I have them or just try to fumble my way through without help. Also, I can practice writing songs, for an extra mental workout.
4. Pump it up - I'm a music therapist. Music is right in my job title. I really love music. Driving gives me a lot of time to explore new music and listen to old favorites. With such a wide territory, I get a variety of radio stations to choose from and, when they fail to interest me, I always have my iPod.
Hope this helps some of you. What do you do pass the time of driving, whether business or personal? Let me know!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Story: All the Tulips in Holland
I recently visited a hospice client of mine with an interesting story. The client, who I'll call Bee, has dementia, although she is still able to interact with others. She used to own a flower shop and is very proud to tell people how much money she made with the flower shop, although the dollar amount she made seems to increase with each telling of the story. Bee will always show is done with the session by saying, "Listen here. I tell it to you straight. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to go home and bring your wife some flowers because that will make her feel really good."
In our last session, Bee told this story (paraphrased): Last week I went to Holland. I really liked it there. The people were real nice because I brought them tulip bulbs from my shop and planted them all over the place. People really thought they were beautiful, so they started growing them themselves. That's where all the tulips in Holland came from.
I hope this story brightens your day a little bit, just like the tulips brightened Holland. :)
Sincerely,
Bryan Odeen, MT-BC
In our last session, Bee told this story (paraphrased): Last week I went to Holland. I really liked it there. The people were real nice because I brought them tulip bulbs from my shop and planted them all over the place. People really thought they were beautiful, so they started growing them themselves. That's where all the tulips in Holland came from.
I hope this story brightens your day a little bit, just like the tulips brightened Holland. :)
Sincerely,
Bryan Odeen, MT-BC
The Journey Begins
Hello world,
My name is Bryan Odeen and I am a board-certified music therapist in Mason City, IA. I currently work for Iowa Hospice full-time as a music therapist. I travel to clients' homes and facilities across the northern counties of Iowa. I enjoy this job because it puts me in contact with so many great people with so many great stories. Whether a client, caregiver, administrator, friend, or family member, everyone has a story and I feel I gain so much from their stories. When my story and their story intersect, I strive to assist my clients with a compassionate presence, a comforting voice, and a guitar. It seems it only takes a few sessions before I become "That Nice Music Man", so that's what I've called this blog.
The focus on this blog will be to share stories, tips, and feelings from this full-time job and a blooming (albeit small) private practice I wish to establish here in Mason City and the north Iowa region. I hope the posts will be helpful, inspiring, and (at the very least) interesting. Please feel free to check out my Facebook page by searching for Odeen Music Therapy. Also, feel free to comment.
Sincerely,
Bryan Odeen, MT-BC
My name is Bryan Odeen and I am a board-certified music therapist in Mason City, IA. I currently work for Iowa Hospice full-time as a music therapist. I travel to clients' homes and facilities across the northern counties of Iowa. I enjoy this job because it puts me in contact with so many great people with so many great stories. Whether a client, caregiver, administrator, friend, or family member, everyone has a story and I feel I gain so much from their stories. When my story and their story intersect, I strive to assist my clients with a compassionate presence, a comforting voice, and a guitar. It seems it only takes a few sessions before I become "That Nice Music Man", so that's what I've called this blog.
The focus on this blog will be to share stories, tips, and feelings from this full-time job and a blooming (albeit small) private practice I wish to establish here in Mason City and the north Iowa region. I hope the posts will be helpful, inspiring, and (at the very least) interesting. Please feel free to check out my Facebook page by searching for Odeen Music Therapy. Also, feel free to comment.
Sincerely,
Bryan Odeen, MT-BC
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