Post-Moon Mullygrumps
Ever have one of those days where everything and anything just rubs you the
WRONG way? Here we go.
I'm going to blame the moon. I mean, after all, why not? Right? It's just there, waning away, every night. The moon doesn't care if I blame it for everything that is going on in my life right now.
On Monday, a client walked into the music therapy room and rudely questioned, "Why aren't you absent? I don't want to do anything YOU say."
Great. LOVE the attitude.
That one interaction colored my day. Never mind the 62 other students that I seemed to connect with - that one student took my power to feel good about the work I was doing.
Why do I allow others' opinions to affect me and what I do? I am human. I've developed a rather thick shell over the years (you have to when you work with adolescents!), but there are chinks in the shell where my emotions ooze out. Zip - right into the chink.
My rational brain says things like, "Now, you don't know that that emotion was directly related to you" and "That student doesn't like anyone," but my emotional brain goes straight into "I'm not good enough" thoughts.
So, what do I do when something like this happens?
My emotional brain goes straight into blaming mode - "It's the moon." (Snicker)
My rational brain is a bit more appropriate. I go through my oft-repeated reframing statements that help me center on what I do and how I do it. "A relationship requires two people. If one person does not want to engage, then therapy cannot happen." "I will not be a good match for everyone who enters my therapy space. It is okay." "I do not know the setting events for that particular moment. It may not have been related to me at all. I may have been the target because of the relationship that we have created."
I strive really hard to allow the emotional brain feel what it wants to feel, but to also keep that rational brain in control of everything. One of my ways to release that emotional brain is to write. On this blog, I try to be honest about the good and not-so-good things that happen in my life as a music therapist, which means that sometimes the posts are not all that happy-clappy. There are times when honesty, even when it is uncomfortable, is necessary.
I know that the client in question does not approach the world with a positive attitude. It is rare for that client to express any type of enjoyment at all with anything that is presented. I also know that I strive to find things that will engage that client (and all of the others) on a daily basis. I spend time after school and on weekends putting together things that are designed specifically for the clients that I interact with every day. Sometimes those things work. Sometimes they don't. Most of the time, whether my ideas work or don't work has NOTHING TO DO WITH ME and has EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THE CLIENTS!
I guess that is the message to take away from my interaction on Monday and my current state of mullygrumps.
I can only control what I bring into the music therapy session. I cannot control how my clients enter the music therapy interaction. I cannot control how my clients interact during the music therapy experience. I can only adapt what I bring into the session to try to engage my clients in the experience. (Tie-in with my readings on Sundays - as therapist, my primary job is to work with what my client brings into the session. I love it when thoughts come together!) After a while, the therapist has to determine that he/she cannot continue to try. Time for a new therapist.
In my setting, my clients do not have a choice of which music therapist they will see. I do, however, provide some opportunities for not engaging in music therapy. My clients always have a choice whether they want to engage. If they do not want to participate, I am okay with that decision if they refrain from disrupting what I am doing with others, and if they use their manners. Respect is important, not blind obedience.
I am heading into my most contentious music therapy session of the week - Wednesday at 10:45. These are the "too cool for school" kids - the ones who think that they are in charge of everything. Lately, their session has consisted of three students who engage in what I ask, two students who are always absent, and five students who wander around the room refusing to engage in any and every thing presented. I've asked them what they want to do, and the answer is "Sleep." I feel like the hour that I spend with them is a wasted hour for me because it doesn't matter what I present - they will not engage. They won't even listen to music as a group. Mullygrumps.
I am going to head into the session the way I do with every session - attempting to engage everyone. In the back of my head, the emotional brain is grumbling "Why do I even bother?" and "Here we go again," but the rational brain keeps trying. "Therapy is important." "Music therapy can offer these students something that no other therapy can offer." I am going to try to quash my woulda/shoulda/coulda goblins from bubbling up from the emotional side and taking over my interactions with others. I will then find a way to acknowledge that emotional brain through releasing those constraints and allowing them to be felt and acknowledged in a place outside of the music therapy session. I have my journal, and I can spend some time engaged in mindful practices centered around my sessions and my clients. Then I will head into the last two sessions of the day.
Time to head into work. This day will be the day it is supposed to be.
Happy Wednesday.
WRONG way? Here we go.
I'm going to blame the moon. I mean, after all, why not? Right? It's just there, waning away, every night. The moon doesn't care if I blame it for everything that is going on in my life right now.
On Monday, a client walked into the music therapy room and rudely questioned, "Why aren't you absent? I don't want to do anything YOU say."
Great. LOVE the attitude.
That one interaction colored my day. Never mind the 62 other students that I seemed to connect with - that one student took my power to feel good about the work I was doing.
Why do I allow others' opinions to affect me and what I do? I am human. I've developed a rather thick shell over the years (you have to when you work with adolescents!), but there are chinks in the shell where my emotions ooze out. Zip - right into the chink.
My rational brain says things like, "Now, you don't know that that emotion was directly related to you" and "That student doesn't like anyone," but my emotional brain goes straight into "I'm not good enough" thoughts.
So, what do I do when something like this happens?
My emotional brain goes straight into blaming mode - "It's the moon." (Snicker)
My rational brain is a bit more appropriate. I go through my oft-repeated reframing statements that help me center on what I do and how I do it. "A relationship requires two people. If one person does not want to engage, then therapy cannot happen." "I will not be a good match for everyone who enters my therapy space. It is okay." "I do not know the setting events for that particular moment. It may not have been related to me at all. I may have been the target because of the relationship that we have created."
I strive really hard to allow the emotional brain feel what it wants to feel, but to also keep that rational brain in control of everything. One of my ways to release that emotional brain is to write. On this blog, I try to be honest about the good and not-so-good things that happen in my life as a music therapist, which means that sometimes the posts are not all that happy-clappy. There are times when honesty, even when it is uncomfortable, is necessary.
I know that the client in question does not approach the world with a positive attitude. It is rare for that client to express any type of enjoyment at all with anything that is presented. I also know that I strive to find things that will engage that client (and all of the others) on a daily basis. I spend time after school and on weekends putting together things that are designed specifically for the clients that I interact with every day. Sometimes those things work. Sometimes they don't. Most of the time, whether my ideas work or don't work has NOTHING TO DO WITH ME and has EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THE CLIENTS!
I guess that is the message to take away from my interaction on Monday and my current state of mullygrumps.
I can only control what I bring into the music therapy session. I cannot control how my clients enter the music therapy interaction. I cannot control how my clients interact during the music therapy experience. I can only adapt what I bring into the session to try to engage my clients in the experience. (Tie-in with my readings on Sundays - as therapist, my primary job is to work with what my client brings into the session. I love it when thoughts come together!) After a while, the therapist has to determine that he/she cannot continue to try. Time for a new therapist.
In my setting, my clients do not have a choice of which music therapist they will see. I do, however, provide some opportunities for not engaging in music therapy. My clients always have a choice whether they want to engage. If they do not want to participate, I am okay with that decision if they refrain from disrupting what I am doing with others, and if they use their manners. Respect is important, not blind obedience.
I am heading into my most contentious music therapy session of the week - Wednesday at 10:45. These are the "too cool for school" kids - the ones who think that they are in charge of everything. Lately, their session has consisted of three students who engage in what I ask, two students who are always absent, and five students who wander around the room refusing to engage in any and every thing presented. I've asked them what they want to do, and the answer is "Sleep." I feel like the hour that I spend with them is a wasted hour for me because it doesn't matter what I present - they will not engage. They won't even listen to music as a group. Mullygrumps.
I am going to head into the session the way I do with every session - attempting to engage everyone. In the back of my head, the emotional brain is grumbling "Why do I even bother?" and "Here we go again," but the rational brain keeps trying. "Therapy is important." "Music therapy can offer these students something that no other therapy can offer." I am going to try to quash my woulda/shoulda/coulda goblins from bubbling up from the emotional side and taking over my interactions with others. I will then find a way to acknowledge that emotional brain through releasing those constraints and allowing them to be felt and acknowledged in a place outside of the music therapy session. I have my journal, and I can spend some time engaged in mindful practices centered around my sessions and my clients. Then I will head into the last two sessions of the day.
Time to head into work. This day will be the day it is supposed to be.
Happy Wednesday.
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