Thoughtful Thursday: I Choose This...Every Day
Just so you know, this isn't a happy, peppy, rah-rah type of music therapy post. I am going through some rough times at my job. If you are looking for a glimpse into the reality of being a music therapist, please read on. If you only want to hear happy things about this profession, then PLEASE skip this post entirely!
Yesterday was another rough day with my clients.
This is the current theme to what I write about because every day seems to be a repetition of the bad day that came before it. On days like today, when I am dreading going to my particular work place, I have to remind myself of several things.
First, this, too, shall pass.
Second, it is not personal.
Third, I choose, every day, to work with persons with these particular challenges.
Fourth, it is work that I am very good at.
I have to remind myself of these things on a regular basis these days because of the rough situations happening in every class session that is going on right now. I had three people stop by yesterday (two were trying to meet with me, one was just stopping by to chat), and I kept bursting into tears at the situations that I had just lived through and had to put them off because the paperwork was too significant that I could not shift my focus. I have so many property destruction behavior reports to write about students who usually have very good respect for my things.
I did not sleep well last night. I did not sleep well the night before or the night before that. I can't breathe. My bowels are churning. There is a strange, perfumy smell when I am in my bed that I cannot account for. All of this, combined with students who are out of control in every environment, makes for a difficult work environment - but just at the moment.
I've been through these sorts of rough patches before. In my history at this facility, I have lived through coordinated escape plans, staff walk-outs, flu epidemics, strings of snow days (where we still work), the great flood (ooh, that was a fun couple of months), microbursts, you name it. I have survived chaos before, and I always come out a better therapist in the end.
This is hard to remember when you are watching six clients meltdown, watch two others run out the door, and see the two kids who are loving the fact that they get to play instruments trying valiantly to pay attention to the music therapy intern who is still attempting therapy during the cacophony. (Those two left for a more quiet space so they could do therapy.) This, too, shall pass.
I know a bit about why we are struggling so much at the moment. My students, most of who need structure and predictability, are caught up in a flux of change. We have new staff members in every classroom. We have client changes in many of our classrooms. Staff members are tense, even us old-timers who have been through these types of things before. Knowing this doesn't really make me feel any better, but it is the notion in the back of my mind that keeps me hanging on.
For this time, music therapy can make a difference for some of my clients.
In one of my classes, two clients were fighting each other at the beginning of the session, and by the end of the session, they were united together playing a game with their peers (all of their peers) trying to beat me (they did). That was a successful session, in my opinion.
The thing is, even when I'm being yelled at, aggressed upon, and demeaned by my clients, I know that what I am doing has benefit for them. I know that they are not mad at me, but are pushing their feelings about other things all over me. I know that we will find our center again, and things will become more balanced again.
I found a quotation on Pinterest that resonated very strongly with me earlier in the month. Here is the link for the blog post that went along with the quotation. Please read it to be able to read the quote as well. While the post was not completely applicable to my life as a music therapist, the quotation certainly was and continues to be very important to me. It is not me who elicits these types of responses - most of the time. I have to relearn this lesson again and again as it is so easy to think that I have that much influence and power over the emotions and responses of other people. The reality is that I do not have either of those things. Most people respond to me from their place in the world rather than my place, and that is how it should be.
I am going to trudge into work today. I am going to hope that there will be some actual therapy that can get done today, but I am also going to be prepared for a repetition of yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.
I am also going to take that quotation with me, and my four core beliefs as stated above. I will center myself before each session so that I can be centered for my clients. I will keep kids safe from themselves and from others to the best of my ability. I will do what I have to do to remain the consistent center of the music therapy room, environment, and experience. I will survive.
Yesterday was another rough day with my clients.
This is the current theme to what I write about because every day seems to be a repetition of the bad day that came before it. On days like today, when I am dreading going to my particular work place, I have to remind myself of several things.
First, this, too, shall pass.
Second, it is not personal.
Third, I choose, every day, to work with persons with these particular challenges.
Fourth, it is work that I am very good at.
I have to remind myself of these things on a regular basis these days because of the rough situations happening in every class session that is going on right now. I had three people stop by yesterday (two were trying to meet with me, one was just stopping by to chat), and I kept bursting into tears at the situations that I had just lived through and had to put them off because the paperwork was too significant that I could not shift my focus. I have so many property destruction behavior reports to write about students who usually have very good respect for my things.
I did not sleep well last night. I did not sleep well the night before or the night before that. I can't breathe. My bowels are churning. There is a strange, perfumy smell when I am in my bed that I cannot account for. All of this, combined with students who are out of control in every environment, makes for a difficult work environment - but just at the moment.
I've been through these sorts of rough patches before. In my history at this facility, I have lived through coordinated escape plans, staff walk-outs, flu epidemics, strings of snow days (where we still work), the great flood (ooh, that was a fun couple of months), microbursts, you name it. I have survived chaos before, and I always come out a better therapist in the end.
This is hard to remember when you are watching six clients meltdown, watch two others run out the door, and see the two kids who are loving the fact that they get to play instruments trying valiantly to pay attention to the music therapy intern who is still attempting therapy during the cacophony. (Those two left for a more quiet space so they could do therapy.) This, too, shall pass.
I know a bit about why we are struggling so much at the moment. My students, most of who need structure and predictability, are caught up in a flux of change. We have new staff members in every classroom. We have client changes in many of our classrooms. Staff members are tense, even us old-timers who have been through these types of things before. Knowing this doesn't really make me feel any better, but it is the notion in the back of my mind that keeps me hanging on.
For this time, music therapy can make a difference for some of my clients.
In one of my classes, two clients were fighting each other at the beginning of the session, and by the end of the session, they were united together playing a game with their peers (all of their peers) trying to beat me (they did). That was a successful session, in my opinion.
The thing is, even when I'm being yelled at, aggressed upon, and demeaned by my clients, I know that what I am doing has benefit for them. I know that they are not mad at me, but are pushing their feelings about other things all over me. I know that we will find our center again, and things will become more balanced again.
I found a quotation on Pinterest that resonated very strongly with me earlier in the month. Here is the link for the blog post that went along with the quotation. Please read it to be able to read the quote as well. While the post was not completely applicable to my life as a music therapist, the quotation certainly was and continues to be very important to me. It is not me who elicits these types of responses - most of the time. I have to relearn this lesson again and again as it is so easy to think that I have that much influence and power over the emotions and responses of other people. The reality is that I do not have either of those things. Most people respond to me from their place in the world rather than my place, and that is how it should be.
I am going to trudge into work today. I am going to hope that there will be some actual therapy that can get done today, but I am also going to be prepared for a repetition of yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.
I am also going to take that quotation with me, and my four core beliefs as stated above. I will center myself before each session so that I can be centered for my clients. I will keep kids safe from themselves and from others to the best of my ability. I will do what I have to do to remain the consistent center of the music therapy room, environment, and experience. I will survive.
This, too, shall pass.
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