Month: March 2011

I was in the middle of a song today, and I suddenly thought of something I wanted to investigate that had nothing to do with the session I was leading. There are so many things going through my head lately that I have trouble focusing. This distractibility could be a sign that I am already boring myself and need to infuse more energy into work, and/or that I am failing to organize my outside thoughts. One of the topics of one of the first posts here was compartmentalization. I should re-visit it and see if I can remember what worked for me then. Any other ideas?

Oh, and I like labradoodles. They don’t shed, right? Seriously, poodles don’t shed. Do these?

The weekend was fantastic, as I expected. We were able to see a number of family members. We are so fortunate that our families live so close to each other, and that we’re really not that far from them.


Musically speaking, my band (though I always have trouble saying “my band,” since I didn’t form it), has a show tomorrow night. Last night during one of our we-haven’t-practiced-for-weeks-and-we-have-a-new-drummer-and-a-show-this-week practices, I have a very simple, but beneficial, revelation: I should incorporate the melodies I frequently “write” on any given day at any given moment into my solos. Why haven’t I thought of my solos in that way before?

An idea I have for my higher-functioning music therapy groups: Introduce one perhaps-new-to-them instrument weekly. Challenge with this idea: Come up with one perhaps-new-to-them instrument, other than the two I’ve used this week.
This weekend, we will be going to see family. There are three birthdays to celebrate, all having happened within the past week and a half.
Have a happy weekend.

I am entirely and decidedly unapologetically a behaviorist. I mean I consider myself a behaviorist on a personal level, not necessarily on a professional level. However, I wonder how personal philosophy doesn’t seep into professional practice as a therapist. But my professional life isn’t what’s concerning me at the moment. 
One of my favorite pastimes is to worry, and most of the time to couple that worry with imagining the full extent of the very worst outcome of any given situation. (Ask me for the quote I used to describe myself in my senior yearbook. Hint: The picture of Janeane Garofalo has something to do with it.) I think, if I have done my best to think of the disaster that could be, then nine times out of ten I will be pleasantly surprised when such outcome does not happen. 

Janeane Garofalo, of course

I have known this about myself for quite some time, and have recently been noticing the behaviors I have when I am especially anxious. I won’t describe the behaviors because, quite frankly, I have seen them listed as diagnostic criteria for a certain number of disorders in one of my favorite reads (p. 462, DSM-IV-TR). What I’m trying to explain is that I find that being conscious of my behaviors of anxiety is the first step in alleviating that anxiety, but actually stopping the behaviors or substituting others (like smiling) tricks me into believing that I am more relaxed or more happy. Breathing steadily also helps. And eating. Eating always works for me. 
Then all of this leads me to wonder, what is the difference between genuine feeling and manipulated feeling? Can your own behavioral manipulation identify the resulting affect as what is real? Chronic anxiety is not conducive to good health. So I suppose, anything I can do, like actually using the words to tell myself to smile could help my health. And yours, too, should you come across me when I haven’t recently eaten.

Minor frustrations at work include:
1. Rooms full of sleeping people, likely caused by the dark and rainy day;
2. People fighting with each other, likely caused by the dark and rainy day;
3. Very sick people whom I cannot help;
4. Providing a performance-based rehearsal that I haven’t ever done, which was difficult because:
A. I needed to use keyboard, and I do not fancy myself a keyboardist;
B. We are supposed to have these rehearsals weekly, however every Tuesday in March and those few in February had conflicts;
C. The residents who are in this ensemble were pretty upset that I hadn’t been facilitating rehearsals, even though the schedule is not within my control;
D. I cannot tell them it was not within my control;
E. The rehearsal was not what I consider successful. 
🙂
Successes at work include:
1. Providing a pretty interesting and engaging session with a resident on a one-to-one basis;
2. Facilitating the aforementioned rehearsal, even though I’d rate it a bandaged frowning face on a Likert scale;
3. Watching residents utilize a rain stick and ocean drum, which provided multi-sensory stimulation (as well as laughter and socialization);
4. Discovering I truly enjoy using yellow highlighting. 


Word: Fugacious.

What a great, perfect weekend. On Saturday morning, Thomas and I ran the Get Lucky 7K, which was fantastic. I never knew I would love that race so much. My face still hurts from smiling all day. 🙂 Perhaps I will run another race in mid-April.
On Sunday, we bottled our beer. Now we wait two weeks to taste it. We’re thinking of having a party in a couple of weeks where possibly our beer will be served/drinkable.

Happy Monday to you.

I have come up against something of a wall at work. Perhaps not a wall, but rather a hedge, or some heavy brush. Maybe like the grass-covered jumps that you’d see in those horse races, after which lies a few feet of water-filled ditch. Yes, I think that is what I’ve come up against. 
I’m already feeling stagnated in my job. I think the facility uses music therapy as song leading, and that there is potential that just isn’t utilized. Now, I am the music therapist at the facility, and so I can and will shape the position and its programs as I see fit, but I’m finding that the staff likely doesn’t know the applications of music therapy. For instance, I’d like to start using NMT techniques and experiences (I can elaborate on NMT if you’d like), but when I mentioned such a thing to one of my co-workers, she described it as “a crazy idea.” Hopefully I will consider educating the facility an opportunity for myself, and certainly a challenge. I love challenges. I just hope I don’t trip and drown in the ditch. 


Band: The Decemberists.

How do you listen to songs for the first time? That is to say, how do you hear songs that have vocals in them? Do you hear the lyrics first, and then determine how you feel about the song? Or what about the beat and the instrumentation? I have a lot of trouble listening to lyrics in a song. In fact, a lot of the time, I don’t care what the lyrics are. However, I think they’re very important. How hypocritical I am. I feel that, if the lyrics aren’t going to say something (I pretty much detest “yeahs” and “oos,” but for certain circumstances) then they shouldn’t bother being included in the piece. At the same time, I rarely care what they say. Are you like me at all? I’m curious about what attracts you to songs. 


Artist: Bjork.

Until recently, I had worked as a server in a restaurant. I have done that off and on for a few years, and I hated it. Some days I would sit inside my car outside the restaurant and have to do breathing exercises in order to get up enough stamina to get out. Most of the time, I worked night shifts, and so I attributed some of the dread to the thought of spending my entire night doing something I most definitely did not enjoy. 

My very favorite blog, The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, has repeatedly addressed the concept of “fun” and one’s ability to find what is fun for him or her. One of the tips she gives to help find your fun, if you don’t already know what it is, is to think about what you did for fun when you were 10 years old. I wrote a lot. I think that has always been my fun, but I very rarely continue doing it on a regular basis for more than a few weeks at a time. Another faction of fun Rubin considers is that someone else’s fun is not necessarily your own, and that you should try not to feel guilty about it. For instance, I don’t enjoy snowshoeing. I usually feel guilty at all times of most days including when I acknowledge that I don’t love walking around in the cold at night for the sole purpose of doing just that, but Rubin’s point is that I should try not to feel horrible about it. Another example: I might go so far as to imagine that a lot of people don’t consider self-diagnosis from the DSM-IV-TR to be particularly enjoyable, where I could do it on a weekly basis. Might be telling as to why my favorite blog is called “The Happiness Project.”
Any thoughts? Does anyone else upset themselves when they don’t love the same things as the people around them love?


Band: Lucy Michelle & The Velvet Lapelles.