Author: Erin

I have just submitted text for a brochure that will likely be sent to publish by the owner of the studio where I’m providing services. She said she’d like to have a tri-fold pamphlet advertising music therapy there, AKA me. I have never done such a thing before, and am hoping what I included was relevant and helpful. 


Ideally, in the next four to six months, I will begin speaking to communities who could use music therapy services.

Unfortunately, I have had a decent amount of inability to focus on any one thing lately. I feel like I’ve been fighting myself to forge through the days. 


However, though today I had a day off from the nursing home, I did see two of my most challenging clients in my private practice work. One of the clients is very lively, very young, and has a diagnosis with which I have had very limited experience. Both clients are still new to me, and I have had my “usual” (if ever there is such a thing when I am still in the beginning stages of my practice) three-session assessment process with only one of these two. I spent most of the day considering different approaches to treatment and different experiences to use, only to truly stress myself in the end. I am happy to report that, even though I tended to, let’s say, agitate my day with second- and third-guessing myself, I found that, once again, what was most important in both of my sessions was that I listen to my clients and assess their energies, and to keep the goals and objectives in my head. I’ve been finding that I am pretty decent with improvisation, which is important in this work as the planning is important, but it’s such a blind ideal– only when I am in my clients’ presence am I really able to plan the session.

I love how my need for believed perfection paralyzes me from remembering things I’ve learned well in the past. Tonight I had my first true assessment session with a child with developmental disability, and going into it, I was horrified that I had no idea how to assess this client, nor what experiences to use with the client. Then, my client’s mother mentioned something that triggered my thinking of targeting impulse control, and with that, I remembered a flood of experiences I’d used before. Now, I feel much more at ease, and look forward to creating a treatment plan for this client. 


All I needed to do was listen. 

Hmmm… I have reason to believe my guitar could be damaged soon. There is no doubt I need a better guitar, but I wasn’t planning or budgeting for that in the next week. I do need more instruments. Hmmm…


Today I facilitated the very first performance of any kind, ever, in my life. Family members and friends were there, there was a reception following, and I even took time during the performance to educate the audience members on tone chimes. The whole day was pretty stressful, but everyone seemed very pleased and thankful. I wonder how to better facilitate the next performance.

Every Thursday, I facilitate small group sessions with residents who are in the TCU. I have had a number of good sessions there, but today I had a favorite. On that unit lives a woman who speaks in numbers, but she does it so well and with such effective inflection that I can usually understand what she means (not, of course, exactly what words she is intending to use). Today she sang with me, whole songs, lyrics and words aplenty. I love that.

I also had opportunity to co-facilitate a session today, on the palliative care unit. I found that to be really beneficial. I was targeting an improvement in gross motor function, and there are only so many hands I have. With two of us, much more was accomplished. I also love that.

As found on Twitter, AMTAInc. is selling a newly-released book, Music Therapy and Geriatric Populations.


Oh, if only I had the energy and desire to read work-related books when I’m not working. Maybe in time I will have that energy reserve that I think I’ll need for that. Anyone buy the book? 

A favorite realization: When I see a resident wearing a sweater that I know I own. And the sweater is brown. Coupled with some nice Velcro shoes, and I’m set.

Recently, I have moved, and my mom has begun allowing me to repossess a number of my old belongings that she no longer wishes to store at their house (politely insisting I take back my crap). Last night, Thomas and I went through one of the giant plastic bins The Mother had had. In it, I found an AHSSA (American High School Speech Association) travel mug (I think I got it at one of the All-state competitions [notice I said “one of”]), a weird collection of Stanley Kubric DVDs that I think were pawned off on me by a friend in college, some pictures of babies in my family (back when they were babies), a couple of opera scores, and a lone Nickel Creek CD. Of course I love the pictures of the babies. But I remember that CD with very specific clarity. I especially like “Tomorrow is a Long Time” (though with that clarity I do not recall why I like it so much). I love how music can do that. This, I know, is not a discovery, because part of the reason any music therapist practices music therapy is for the realization of that phenomenon. 


I love that I found that CD. I feel like I was given a present. By myself. Because I forgot where I’d put it. Since I’m unorganized and lazy and moved so many times that I soon  entirely abandoned any effective means of tracking where and what I’d packed.


So it was sort of like opening a present.

Not only do I work at a care center, but I also work at its adjacent apartments, for those more independently-living seniors. Many of the residents of the apartments are married to residents of the care center, and I am so fortunate that I am able to spend time with both members of the couple in separate environments. I don’t know any other person on either staff who is afforded such an opportunity. I am able to put faces with names that come from memories related to me from someone in the care center, while also getting to hear from the other party (sometimes) similar stories. I love it. One of my favorite parts about my job is how continuously fascinating peoples’ stories are.

I don’t happen to be one of those musicians who loves to play and/or sing at any moment of any day. There is a time and place for my music, and, apparently unfortunately, that place is at work. 


So when my boss called me the morning of my day off to ask that I provide the entertainment for our department’s barbecue that same evening, I explained to him my feelings about the music I provide. To this, he responded, “Well, maybe you could just play a few songs, no pressure.” I e-mailed him, thanking him for asking because I am happy that he’d think I could entertain (that word, that word) everyone, but (I think) politely and professionally said no. The other music therapist at my facility had reminded me of maintaining boundaries, and had I not declined and not provided music for everyone that night, I would have been distracted and distant from everyone instead of feeling closer to them as co-workers in a social context. 


A few days have passed, and even today I was approached by a co-worker who applauded me for refraining from working at a non-work event. 


I applaud myself, too.