Remember Why I Do This
Yesterday was Wednesday, the day that I dread more than the others because of one group of kids. They are not a cohesive bunch and just plain old need individual services instead of group services, but our service model does not include two music therapists, only one, and group services instead of individual services, so we're kinda stuck the way things are (run-on sentence, Ms. Stark would NOT be proud of me AT ALL!). Anyway, that group ran GREAT for the second week in a row, and the student who screams when no sounds are present laughed during the cacophony of "Big Instrument Exploration" with nary a complaint.
I was singing and playing during one of my sessions (I can't remember which), when I had to cough. This is a persistent problem right now with the blooming and blossoming that's going on out here. I stopped playing and singing in order to cover my cough (which is just going on and on and on). One of my students said, "Why'd you stop playing?" I responded, "Well, I'm constantly telling you to cover your cough, so I had to do the same thing, didn't I?" He thought for a moment, and then said, "Oh, that's okay then." I giggled a bit.
There are times when my job is difficult. There are times when it is joyful. There are times when the administrative duties overwhelm me and make my job as a therapist intolerable, but my clients make me realize that I still love my profession, even with all the frustrations that come along with it.
My kids are concerned when I can't breathe. They notice when my singing voice is not quite right. They spend time looking for me during music therapy time, and they give me what for when I miss a session!
They follow me through singing, dancing, lip-syncing, silly games, deep conversations, relaxation exercises, and every place I lead them. The willingness they show to be in a therapeutic relationship with me both humbles and frightens me. It is a great honor to be a therapist.
My job, even with all of the administrative nonsense and rigamarole, demonstrates to me each and every day that I am meant to do this. I am meant to be a MUSIC therapist. I am so lucky. I found this profession when I was 14 and am still as enthusiastic about it as I was at that time many years ago.
I get to go to work now, run four large groups, see three individuals, teach a songwriting lesson, and then get to come home to talk to interns about being an effective leader. This is the life.
I was singing and playing during one of my sessions (I can't remember which), when I had to cough. This is a persistent problem right now with the blooming and blossoming that's going on out here. I stopped playing and singing in order to cover my cough (which is just going on and on and on). One of my students said, "Why'd you stop playing?" I responded, "Well, I'm constantly telling you to cover your cough, so I had to do the same thing, didn't I?" He thought for a moment, and then said, "Oh, that's okay then." I giggled a bit.
There are times when my job is difficult. There are times when it is joyful. There are times when the administrative duties overwhelm me and make my job as a therapist intolerable, but my clients make me realize that I still love my profession, even with all the frustrations that come along with it.
My kids are concerned when I can't breathe. They notice when my singing voice is not quite right. They spend time looking for me during music therapy time, and they give me what for when I miss a session!
They follow me through singing, dancing, lip-syncing, silly games, deep conversations, relaxation exercises, and every place I lead them. The willingness they show to be in a therapeutic relationship with me both humbles and frightens me. It is a great honor to be a therapist.
My job, even with all of the administrative nonsense and rigamarole, demonstrates to me each and every day that I am meant to do this. I am meant to be a MUSIC therapist. I am so lucky. I found this profession when I was 14 and am still as enthusiastic about it as I was at that time many years ago.
I get to go to work now, run four large groups, see three individuals, teach a songwriting lesson, and then get to come home to talk to interns about being an effective leader. This is the life.
Comments
Post a Comment