By Natalie Spencer, MT-BC
As a music therapist, or a professional in any career, it’s easy to get caught up in the “work grind.” Wake up, plan your session, grab your instruments, beat the rush hour traffic, make it to the session on time, and work your magic. And that’s just the first session! After a couple of those before lunchtime, it’s easy to be exhausted by the end of the day, much less the end of the week. Music therapists have to be “on” all the time, providing exceptional care to our patients/clients/students and their families/facilities/schools. We care for individuals and groups, with physical, emotional, and mental disabilities. Every session of every day brings something new, and we’re nothing if not flexible. We’re constantly learning new songs and ways to adapt the music to benefit those for whom we care. After a while, it’s easy to get into a routine to try and maintain our own sanity. After all, who doesn’t like to be in control? But I would like to pose a challenge- a challenge that I, myself, have only recently acknowledged and accepted; Remember your purpose.
After working in hospice care for over a year, I recently added a substance abuse group to my week. Branching into something new, something COMPLETELY new, can be absolutely overwhelming. It comes with a lot of research, a lot of questions, and a lot of new music. But walking in to my first substance abuse group, I rediscovered my purpose in being a music therapist: We show up to sessions prepared to help our clients with what they need in that moment in any way we can. Sometimes, we show up and our plan just doesn’t fit with their needs that day. Keeping your purpose in mind at all times helps flexibility to be a saving grace instead of a daunting task. I arrived with planned material to discuss positive self-help steps with a group that was trying to recreate their lives and find something tangible to guide them along the way. After acknowledging that what I had just didn’t meet the goal that day, I asked them to tell me what they needed, and that opened doors to a brand new kind of session. Together, we wrote an original song about the emotions that accompany the process of becoming sober, starting over, and finding purpose. At the end of two sessions, we had a beautiful song that sparked pride in every member of that group in a way I had never seen. Our finished work was so monumental for them that they wanted to share it with the facility staff and bring it to an open meeting to share it with others in recovery. The joy and sense of accomplishment that they felt from one little song reminded me that my purpose in being a music therapist is just that: meet them where they are, and never leave them where you found them.