Facing the Empty Computer Screen (Used to be the Empty Page)

black background with colorful squiggles, the word Think, and the web address of musictherapyworks.com

 

It is amazing how much time I spend staring at a blank computer screen these days. I used to spend just as much time staring at a blank piece of paper, but my paper use has decreased for things like writing. I do most of my creative writing on the computer these days, and this (almost) daily practice of writing my blog puts me in this exact same space every single morning, staring at the cursor blinking and blinking away, ready to translate any keyboard strokes into letters, words, sentences, and paragraphs.

In the more artistic art journaling world of my interests (not as much in the very narrow interpretation of bullet journaling but in more creative journaling circles), the advice is just to put pen to paper and make a mark. Any mark. Just break up the vast emptiness in front of you with the first touch of pen to paper and then see what happens next.

I use this same technique in music therapy sessions with clients as well.

There are times when silence is the most important musical element of all. Have you ever just sat in silence with a client, waiting for them to initiate an interaction? I have, and it is one of the most difficult parts of my job but often leads to some of the most influential music therapy moments. Breaking the silence is like making the first mark on an empty page, and I often want my clients to be the ones who break that silence.

When my clients are the ones who make that first sound/song/suggestion/instrument sound, they are the ones who start the creative expression that is music therapy experience. They are interacting. They are part of the creation. They are in charge of where we go in our shared musical experience. If I give in to my need to make noise during a session, I have taken the reins of our engagement. They become more followers than leaders, and I strive to follow them where they need to go rather than to be the dictator in our session. 

Now, this strategy is more successful for me in individual sessions than in group treatment. It is much easier to follow only one or two clients than it is to try and coordinate the very different ideas of nine to twelve clients simultaneously, but I also use this strategy a bit in groups.

Silence is one of the hardest thing for me to maintain. I love musicking with my clients so much that I want to fill every single second with music, but music therapy sessions are not about filling my needs. My clients are the most important part of any music therapy interaction, so my needs have to go unmet for their benefit. That's what it means to be a therapist, isn't it? I think so.

Anyway, the analogy of silence and the empty computer screen or page is one that makes good sense to me. I need to remember it for those days when it feels like nothing I do works the way I want it to work. I can sit with silence. I can wait for my client to make the first mark on our musical canvas. I can find a way into creative interaction with my client the same way I find ways into writing and drawing and musical improvisation.

Wait for that first mark...first keystroke...first musical interaction.

There are times when the waiting is uncomfortable. For me, thoughts like "I SHOULD (goblin) be making some sort of sound" start to interfere with my need to see what an individual will do. Will they make a sound? Will they look at an instrument? Will they choose a communication card? Will they just sit in silence? When I hear the goblins bringing up the woulda/shoulda/coulda thoughts in my head, I have to stifle them. I have to wait, even when I get antsy for some sort of shared interaction. My client will do what they will do when they are ready to do it. They always do. Sometimes it takes a couple of sessions before they start to lead me into interaction. Sometimes it only takes seconds. Sometimes they need the silence more than they need the music, and that has to be fine with me as well (even as my goblins are shouting at me in the back of my head).

This is my "shoulda" goblin. 

ALT Text: green and blue cartoon character with pointy ears, yellow eyes, long fingernails on gnarled fingers staring at the screen.

I am hoping that your Thursday is goblin free.

Here's to the silence that we all need at times!