It's the Little Things
You know how there are times when you are feeling unappreciated and then a series of things happens that makes you realize that you are appreciated?
This week has had several little moments that made me feel both sides of this situation. Some of my clients were downright rude. They put me down in an attempt to make themselves feel cool, but it was not the way they usually respond to me, so it deflated my mood. Then, there was another group of clients where one client has really started to respond to me. He smiles, he interacts (still on the periphery, but it is still interaction), he initiates conversations with me outside of the music therapy room. Another staff member watched him smiling and talking to me and said, "What is your secret? I have never seen him smile before." His classroom staff agreed that he is typically somber and sullen. I didn't know that. He's not that way in music therapy AT ALL! I only see the happy version of that client.
I was feeling a bit blue yesterday. It was a gloomy day outside and my body hurt too much to be helped by regular Tylenol, but I couldn't use the good medication because I was at work, so I was feeling the pain. There was no comfortable position to sit in or to stand in. I was mired in a session of self-pity and wallowing. Another group of clients walked in and one of my clients handed me a paper card. She had drawn a picture of herself and me. She titled my picture with the words, "Merry Jan." I think it was a fortunate spelling error as it reminded me that I make choices about how I respond to situations. I can be merry when I want to be.
The inside of the card had a paragraph about how much the client enjoyed being in music therapy. She is a client who struggles outside of the music therapy room as well as the first client. She doesn't often struggle in music therapy, especially when we listen to our mutual favorite music - 80's music!
Those small things really brightened my emotional state.
It is amazing how a simple paper card can change an attitude from pity and self-indulgence to one of humility and focus. You know, when I am focused outward, my pain perception changes from constant reminder of pain to occasional twinges. The pain becomes less present and the client relationship is the focus. After all, the client is the focus of all music therapy, right?
Today is the day that I spend in my music therapy room, all by myself, in the little bit of space that I have devoted to what I do. I will be cleaning the room, getting it ready for my absence next week (go AMTA!), and putting things back into cabinets. I've arranged for bus duty coverage, so that's off the list. I have plans for what clients will do when I am gone. I have told my clients that I will be gone and have reassured them that it is just for a meeting - not to get my knee fixed. The only thing I will do today is afternoon bus duty.
Today, when I am starting to sink into self-pity, I can look at my growing gallery of notes, pictures, and paper cards on the wall near my desk. It will remind me that there is so much more than me in the world. That gallery reminds me that "me" is not what I choose to focus on. I choose to focus on "not me."
I'm going to be "Merry Jan" today.
Happy Friday!
This week has had several little moments that made me feel both sides of this situation. Some of my clients were downright rude. They put me down in an attempt to make themselves feel cool, but it was not the way they usually respond to me, so it deflated my mood. Then, there was another group of clients where one client has really started to respond to me. He smiles, he interacts (still on the periphery, but it is still interaction), he initiates conversations with me outside of the music therapy room. Another staff member watched him smiling and talking to me and said, "What is your secret? I have never seen him smile before." His classroom staff agreed that he is typically somber and sullen. I didn't know that. He's not that way in music therapy AT ALL! I only see the happy version of that client.
I was feeling a bit blue yesterday. It was a gloomy day outside and my body hurt too much to be helped by regular Tylenol, but I couldn't use the good medication because I was at work, so I was feeling the pain. There was no comfortable position to sit in or to stand in. I was mired in a session of self-pity and wallowing. Another group of clients walked in and one of my clients handed me a paper card. She had drawn a picture of herself and me. She titled my picture with the words, "Merry Jan." I think it was a fortunate spelling error as it reminded me that I make choices about how I respond to situations. I can be merry when I want to be.
The inside of the card had a paragraph about how much the client enjoyed being in music therapy. She is a client who struggles outside of the music therapy room as well as the first client. She doesn't often struggle in music therapy, especially when we listen to our mutual favorite music - 80's music!
Those small things really brightened my emotional state.
It is amazing how a simple paper card can change an attitude from pity and self-indulgence to one of humility and focus. You know, when I am focused outward, my pain perception changes from constant reminder of pain to occasional twinges. The pain becomes less present and the client relationship is the focus. After all, the client is the focus of all music therapy, right?
Today is the day that I spend in my music therapy room, all by myself, in the little bit of space that I have devoted to what I do. I will be cleaning the room, getting it ready for my absence next week (go AMTA!), and putting things back into cabinets. I've arranged for bus duty coverage, so that's off the list. I have plans for what clients will do when I am gone. I have told my clients that I will be gone and have reassured them that it is just for a meeting - not to get my knee fixed. The only thing I will do today is afternoon bus duty.
Today, when I am starting to sink into self-pity, I can look at my growing gallery of notes, pictures, and paper cards on the wall near my desk. It will remind me that there is so much more than me in the world. That gallery reminds me that "me" is not what I choose to focus on. I choose to focus on "not me."
I'm going to be "Merry Jan" today.
Happy Friday!
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