It is inevitable that the events of one’s life affect our presence as a therapist. It is equally true that our training and experience of being a music therapist have an influence on our private lives. I sometimes find the balancing act between these two parts of myself to be strenuous. The greatest guidance I have found in the endeavour of juggling these roles came from a book called The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People (Covey, 2004) which was recommended to me on a leadership course within the University where I work. The author validated my experience of multiplicity and suggested naming the many roles that we each have within our lives, and valuing them equally. My list was, and still is, made up of: Mother; Wife; Researcher; Colleague; Friend; Teacher; and of course, Music Therapist. It was incredibly liberating to be given permission to value each of these roles. Not only did it mean that I could write ‘To Do’ lists for every part of my life (a favourite past-time), but it provides a constant challenge for me to strive for balance in my life.
But balance is not always attainable. I recently gave birth to my second child, a gorgeous little girl whose smile lights up a room. As I struggled through the early weeks after her birth I once again found myself distanced from my professional roles and absorbed by the physical and emotional demands of motherhood. As I fed my baby in the middle of the night, with darkness all around and my family asleep in other parts of the house, I sometimes yearned for these roles. The freedom to drink coffee:) A sense of competence? Years of training! People who would listen to me for hours on end;) During this time I discovered another book (I confess also to being a self-help book junkie!). Buddhism for Mothers (Napthali, 2003) spoke to me about valuing ‘the moment’ through simple steps such as focusing and allowing. The author spoke of meditating for ‘moments’ in between the many tasks that a parent must perform, rather than kneeling at an altar without interruption for hours on end. It helped me to offer moments of quality attention to my family rather than be in a constant state of ‘about to’ attend, or guilty about not focusing on them. She spoke honestly about not achieving perfection in parenting in a way that resonated with me in my sleep-deprived state. It reminded me of the accessible way that Yalom (1989) reflects on his successes and failures as a therapist.
I have spoken with other music therapists about the high expectations we have of spending quality time with our children. In music therapy we attain powerful moments of connectedness with clients that are infused with creativity and achieved through an intent listening. We spend perhaps an hour a week with various individuals and groups, and in that time strive to be present and to value our clients, as taught by humanist / existential theorists such as Rogers (1980) and May (1983). I, like many others, believe that this intent and creative sharing is a positive force for change in my work. I sometimes reflect sadly that these sessions might be the only time that a person is truly heard in their entire week. It seems that many people in disadvantaged situations are surrounded by others who do not have the capacity to focus on them as they truly are.
But when I strive to offer this attention to my family, I am constantly interrupted. I am faced by my own disadvantages and reminded how similar I am to my clients in many ways. Real life provides very few half-hour blocks suitable for focused attention and it is easy to become discouraged or exhausted in the trying. For myself, I have found it impossible to offer a complete life of creative and focused attention to my family, which is what I would love to achieve. I have needs. I have tasks to complete. I have other aspects to my identity that need attention. Stige (2004) has spoken of the value of striving for the unattainable, and I also believe that high expectations can lead to incredible achievements. But I have also learned to value the 3-minute blocks, or the special moments, or even sitting on the couch with my family and exhaustedly watching ‘The Wiggles’ (2006).
Mother, music therapist, friend, teacher, colleague or researcher. I like to think that there is an authenticity to my being in all of these myriad roles. Humanist therapist, caring family member, loyal friend and colleague, honest researcher (to focus only on the positive;). I feel sure that the hardest and the most uplifting moments in my life have had an influence on how I practice as a therapist, and I know that my clients have taught me a great deal about the needs of all human beings including my family. I guess I will continue to juggle these multiple roles through the various twists and turns of life with the hope of doing a ‘good enough’ (Winnicott, 1953) job of most of it.
Covey, S.R. (2004) The 7 habits of highly effective people. New York: Free Press.
May, R. (1983). The discovery of being: Writings in existential psychology. New
York: W.W. Norton & Co.
Napthali, S. (2003). Buddhism for mothers: A calm approach to caring for yourself
and your children. Sydney: Allen & Unwin Press.
Rogers, C. (1980). A way of Being. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co.
Stige, Brynjulf (2004). Striving for the Unattainable. Voices: A World Forum for
Music Therapy. Retrieved from
http://www.voices.no/columnist/colnameddmmyy.html
The Wiggles (2006) Playground. Retrieved from
http://www.thewiggles.com.au/au/playground
Winnicott, D.W. (1953). Transitional objects and transitional phenomena.
International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 34, 89-90.
Yalom, I. (1989). Love’s executioner and other tales of psychotherapy. New York:
Harper Perennial.
McFerran, Katrina (2007). Motherhood, Meditation and Music Therapy. Voices Resources. Retrieved January 15, 2015, from http://testvoices.uib.no/community/?q=colmcferran150107