<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<!DOCTYPE article PUBLIC "-//NLM//DTD JATS (Z39.96) Journal Publishing DTD v1.1 20120330//EN" "http://jats.nlm.nih.gov/publishing/1.1/JATS-journalpublishing1-mathml3.dtd">
<article article-type="research-article" dtd-version="1.1" xml:lang="en"
   xmlns:mml="http://www.w3.org/1998/Math/MathML" xmlns:xlink="http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink"
   xmlns:xsi="http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema-instance">
   <front>
      <journal-meta>
         <journal-id journal-id-type="DOAJ">15041611</journal-id>
         <journal-title-group>
            <journal-title>Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy</journal-title>
         </journal-title-group>
         <issn>1504-1611</issn>
         <publisher>
            <publisher-name>GAMUT - Grieg Academy Music Therapy Research Centre (NORCE &amp;
               University of Bergen)</publisher-name>
         </publisher>
      </journal-meta>
      <article-meta>
         <article-id pub-id-type="doi">10.15845/voices.v21i3.3152</article-id>
         <article-categories>
            <subj-group subj-group-type="heading">
               <subject>Reflections on Practice</subject>
            </subj-group>
         </article-categories>
         <title-group>
            <article-title>Significant Moments in Improvisational Music Therapy</article-title>
            <subtitle>Composite Case Examples of Improvisation With Adults Diagnosed With
               Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities</subtitle>
         </title-group>
         <contrib-group>
            <contrib contrib-type="author">
               <name>
                  <surname>Beebe</surname>
                  <given-names>Katelyn</given-names>
               </name>
               <xref ref-type="aff" rid="K_Beebe"/>
               <address>
                  <email>katelyn.p.beebe@gmail.com</email>
               </address>
            </contrib>
         </contrib-group>
         <aff id="K_Beebe"><label>1</label>Non-affiliated, USA</aff>
         <contrib-group>
            <contrib contrib-type="editor">
               <name>
                  <surname>Hadley</surname>
                  <given-names>Susan</given-names>
               </name>
            </contrib>
         </contrib-group>
         <contrib-group>
            <contrib contrib-type="reviewer">
               <name>
                  <surname>Gilbertson</surname>
                  <given-names>Simon</given-names>
               </name>
            </contrib>
         </contrib-group>
         <pub-date pub-type="pub">
            <day>1</day>
            <month>11</month>
            <year>2021</year>
         </pub-date>
         <volume>21</volume>
         <issue>3</issue>
         <history>
            <date date-type="received">
               <day>30</day>
               <month>8</month>
               <year>2020</year>
            </date>
            <date date-type="accepted">
               <day>21</day>
               <month>9</month>
               <year>2021</year>
            </date>
         </history>
         <permissions>
            <copyright-statement>Copyright: 2021 The Author(s)</copyright-statement>
            <copyright-year>2021</copyright-year>
            <license license-type="open-access"
               xlink:href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">
               <license-p>This is an open-access article distributed under the terms of the
                     <uri>http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/</uri>, which permits
                  unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the
                  original work is properly cited.</license-p>
            </license>
         </permissions>
         <self-uri xlink:href="https://voices.no/index.php/voices/article/view/3152"
            >https://voices.no/index.php/voices/article/view/3152</self-uri>
         <abstract>
            <p>Four composite case examples are presented and discussed as they relate to emotional
               expression, significant moments in the therapeutic process, and communication using a
               variety of modalities in music therapy with adults diagnosed with intellectual and
               developmental disabilities. Building on therapeutic awareness through discussing
               musical elements, body movement and posture, countertransference, and interactional
               patterns, the implications of deep emotional connection and processing are approached
               using primarily nonverbal methods. Composite vignettes from the author’s clinical
               work demonstrate awareness of these factors in the moment as they impacted the
               session, therapeutic relationship, and other professionals’ understanding of music
               therapy in this population. Implications for emotional processing in clinical
               practice are presented as they relate to the concepts presented in this paper.</p>
         </abstract>
         <kwd-group kwd-group-type="author-generated">
            <kwd>improvisation</kwd>
            <kwd>countertransference</kwd>
            <kwd>emotional processing</kwd>
            <kwd>intellectual disability</kwd>
            <kwd>case example</kwd>
         </kwd-group>
      </article-meta>
   </front>
   <body>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 begin -->
      <sec>
         <title>Introduction</title>
         <p>Improvisation in music therapy invites connection through a unifying experience that
            often involves the expression of some type of emotional content and is directed towards
            the growth of the client (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="B2014">Bruscia, 2014</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="D2006">Dillard, 2006</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="G2004"
               >Graham, 2004</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2019">Seabrook, 2019</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="SL2014">Strehlow &amp; Lindner, 2014</xref>). Improvisation
            creates a sacred space, the musical space, for exploration and relationship (<xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="K2006">Kenny, 2006</xref>). This space can hold safety,
            relationship, spontaneity, receptivity, and creative potential. By participating in the
            creative process, the client is actively creating and therefore embarking toward change.
            Novel and innovative communication can be met with enthusiasm and acceptance from the
            therapist in this space (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="G2004">Graham, 2004</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017"
               >Swaney, 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>). Deep
            connections can be made within the safety and acceptance present within the therapeutic
            relationship and musical space.</p>
         <p>Communication and connection are accomplished through body movement, facial expression,
            melody, rhythm, and a felt sense of being united in an experience (<xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="G2004">Graham, 2004</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney,
               2020</xref>). The therapist then becomes attuned to many possible methods a client
            uses to engage in the therapeutic space by entering an expressive relationship through
            improvisation (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2017">Cameron, 2017</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>). For some individuals, verbal
            processing leads to inauthentic experiences or resistance even when verbal language is
            their primary form of communicating with others (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017"
               >Gavrielidou &amp; Odell-Miller, 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013"
               >Polen, 2013</xref>). Improvisation can allow the therapist and client to engage in
            exploration and communication in a contained environment without the barriers that may
            come with verbal processing.</p>
      </sec>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 end -->
      <!-- sec lvl 2 begin -->
      <sec>
         <title>Significant Therapeutic Moments</title>
         <p>Therapeutic progress can often be characterized by periods of growth, and plateau as the
            client moves through stages of their therapeutic process. Pivotal and meaningful moments
            are sometimes used to characterize phases of therapy and can represent aspects of the
            therapeutic relationship (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017">Gavrielidou &amp;
               Odell-Miller, 2017</xref>). Significant moments in therapy occur when something new,
            different, pivotal, or especially meaningful happens and can be instrumental in client
            and therapist perspectives on the therapeutic process and relationship. Assigned
            significance and meaning of a moment in therapy is individual and unique to the
            therapist(s) and client(s) who were actively engaged in the therapeutic space together.
            Significant moments in therapy could be experienced as peak moments, moments of tension
            or sadness or anger, new insight, and/or a shared inner connection between the therapist
            and client. They occur at different intervals or frequencies at various points in the
            therapeutic process. In work with individuals who communicate beyond words, these
            significant moments have also been described as the familiar connections and indicators
            that the relationship was well established and motivating for connection between the
            therapist and client (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="L2014">Lee, 2014</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>).</p>
         <p>Therapists who work with individuals diagnosed with intellectual and developmental
            disabilities (I/DD) have described significant moments in therapy as familiar
            interactions that demonstrate stability in the therapeutic relationship, a new or
            unexpected occurrence during a session, a felt sense of the impact of an interaction,
            recognition and connection to another (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="L2014">Lee,
               2014</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>). Some therapists
            have reported the extended length of time necessary for developing rapport and building
            relationships with clients (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="L2014">Lee, 2014</xref>). In
            these instances, familiarity was highlighted as a core tenet of the relationship and
            significant to therapeutic progress. The client consistently responding vocally to the
            therapist indicated the status of their significant relationship. Additionally,
            significant moments have been sometimes identified as when something new or unexpected
            happens within a session (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="L2014">Lee, 2014</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>). Unrehearsed, self-initiated musical
            contributions, and changes in body position, movement and facial expression,
            characterized interactions that were perceived by the therapist(s) as significant in the
            change that was highlighted from prior interactions. These moments were often reported
            to develop from structured musical interactions that created familiar connection points
            between the therapist and client.</p>
         <p>Gavrielidou and Odell-Miller (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017">2017</xref>) found
            that structured music and interventions were more likely to evoke pivotal and
            significant moments within sessions. These moments could happen while engaging with both
            pre-composed and improvised music. Engagement with music includes movement, active
            musical creation, receptive music listening, and singing pre-composed songs (<xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>). Significant moments often launched
            clients into the next phases of their therapeutic process and impacted emotional
            processing. The accessibility of feeling and expressing emotional content in a nonverbal
            and contained environment is important for individuals who communicate most
            authentically using methods beyond words and may also be experiencing extreme emotional
            needs (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="G2004">Graham, 2004</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017">Swaney,
            2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>).</p>
      </sec>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 end -->
      <!-- sec lvl 2 begin -->
      <sec>
         <title>Emotional Processing</title>
         <p>Although individuals diagnosed with I/DD may also have co-existing mental health needs,
            there is little existing literature exploring deeper aspects of the therapeutic process
            for clients diagnosed with I/DD, and even less for those who communicate primarily using
            methods beyond verbal language (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="AO2011">Adams &amp; Oliver,
               2011</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>). Because of the
            perceived limits of processing emotional work with individuals who communicate beyond
            words, many counselors and other health professionals tend to avoid emotional processing
            within this population (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017">Swaney, 2017</xref>). Although
            it has been supported that clients with “severe/profound” levels of I/DD experience
            emotion as deeply as a typically developing person, and can access music as a tool to
            process and express these feelings, there has still been debate over the abilities of
            individuals with I/DD diagnoses to express the same range of emotions as their typically
            developing peers (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="AO2011">Adams &amp; Oliver, 2011</xref>;
               <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="G2004">Graham, 2004</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="L2014">Lee, 2014</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>;
               <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017">Swaney, 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>). Music therapy can provide a unique outlet for
            nonverbal communication and self-expression, while the various information sources
            available to the music therapist can contribute to our knowledge and understanding of
            how moments in therapy impact the therapeutic process, and how clients express emotion
            through sound, movement, and affect (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="D2006">Dillard,
               2006</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017">Gavrielidou &amp; Odell-Miller,
               2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="G2004">Graham, 2004</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2010"
               >Stern, 2010</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017">Swaney, 2017</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>).</p>
      </sec>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 end -->
      <!-- sec lvl 2 begin -->
      <sec>
         <title>Communication and Information Sources</title>
         <p>Communication forms utilized in therapy by individuals diagnosed with I/DD can include,
            but are not limited to, reaching out, body orientation, facial expression,
            vocalizations, leading, eye gaze, gestures, head nods, Sign Language, pictures and
            icons, and voice output devices (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell,
            2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="CM2005">Cascella &amp; McNamara, 2005</xref>;
               <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="G2004">Graham, 2004</xref>). These communicative actions
            have functions that cover a wide range of intentions including to convey their emotions,
            make a choice, make requests, indicate dissent. In improvisatory contexts, a space is
            created which allows for additional communication through melody, dynamic, rhythm, and
            other musical elements.</p>
         <p>Body movement and gesture can help add meaning and context to verbal dialogue and are
            also used as a primary form of communication for some individuals (<xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>). Temporal elements found within movement patterns
            can offer additional insight into communicative intent and synchronicity between client
            and therapist within musical and nonmusical interactions (<xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="FCB2017">Foubert et al., 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2010">Stern,
               2010</xref>). Caldwell (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">2013</xref>) posited that
            body movement and behavior have an underlying meaning that could be uncovered through
            investigation of the environment and interactional patterns. “We have to empty ourselves
            of any behavioral expectations and learn to ‘be with’ this person as they are at
            present, using their initiatives to respond in ways that have meaning for them” (p. 34).
            By experiencing full presence and openness to communication being transmitted from a
            variety of modalities, the therapist can gain a deeper understanding of a client’s
            internal experience (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="D2006">Dillard, 2006</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2005"
               >Scheiby, 2005</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2019">Seabrook, 2019</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="S2010">Stern, 2010</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017"
               >Swaney, 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>).
            Characteristics of musical interactions, in body movement, rhythm, and melody, can offer
            snapshots of the therapeutic relationship at a given moment in time and demonstrate a
            client’s growth over time (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>;
               <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="FCB2017">Foubert et al., 2017</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="SL2014">Strehlow &amp; Linder, 2014</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017">Swaney, 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020"
               >Swaney, 2020</xref>).</p>
         <p>Strehlow and Lindner (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="SL2014">2014</xref>) identified
            interactional patterns present in improvisational interactions with clients diagnosed
            with borderline personality disorder (BPD). Scenes were chosen to represent different
            phases of treatment for the participants included in the study. Interactional patterns
            were identified and defined in terms of musical characteristics, relation to the
            therapist, therapist’s feelings and inner thoughts, and the function of the music.
            Additionally, interpersonal temporal synchronicity between the client and therapist has
            been used as a method of assessing an individual’s ability to relate to another person
               (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="FCB2017">Foubert et al., 2017</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="KSVRKS2021">Kleinlooh et al., 2021</xref>). Continued
            participation in successful interpersonal temporal synchronicity may have implications
            in improving temporal relational strategies as they impact attachment experiences. A
            large portion of therapeutic work with clients diagnosed with BPD is spent navigating
            the uncertainties of the client-therapist connection and finding balance between being
            over-involved or the client withdrawing and resisting the therapist. This is illustrated
            through the therapist’s role and feelings highlighted in each interactional pattern and
            inconsistencies in temporal relation (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="FCB2017">Foubert et
               al., 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="KSVRKS2021">Kleinlooh et al.,
               2021</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="SL2014">Strehlow &amp; Linder,
            2014</xref>).</p>
      </sec>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 end -->
      <!-- sec lvl 2 begin -->
      <sec>
         <title>Countertransference as an Information Source</title>
         <p>In addition to the musical contributions and body signs of emotional work,
            countertransference is a form of information about the improvisational interaction and
            how impactful or meaningful it may be in the therapeutic process. Joining in close
            proximity in musical exchange can bring forth countertransference, or an emotional
            reaction of the therapist to material brought into the therapeutic space by the client
               (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="D2006">Dillard, 2006</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="S2005">Scheiby, 2005</xref>). Countertransference can also serve as a tool for
            gaining insight into the client’s perspective and underlying issues not revealed in
            verbal discussion.</p>
         <p>Dillard (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="D2006">2006</xref>) interviewed music therapists
            regarding their experience of musical countertransference in individual music therapy.
            Music communicated client perceptions of their experience in the therapeutic process and
            highlighted interpersonal dynamics within the therapeutic relationship. In these
            interviews, countertransference was identified as a strong desire to respond that may or
            may not align with their conscious views. It also presented as an emotional or physical
            sensation, i.e., “jarred and out of control” or “chills, a ‘flipping over in my
            stomach’”(p. 213). Therapists who were interviewed acknowledged that
            countertransference, when consciously understood, was a useful tool for further
            interpreting and understanding their clients’ experiences. Countertransference occurred
            with clients at significant points within the therapeutic process regardless of
            diagnosis.</p>
      </sec>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 end -->
      <!-- sec lvl 2 begin -->
      <sec>
         <title>Summary</title>
         <p>Significant and pivotal moments in music therapy can be used to describe aspects of
            therapy, illustrate techniques, and inform clinical work and therapeutic progress for
            both the client and the therapist (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017">Gavrielidou &amp;
               Odell-Miller, 2017</xref>). Environments with appropriate structure, autonomy and
            safety, similar to those that can be created within clinical improvisation, encourage
            these moments to occur and can propel the client forward in their progress and provide
            an outlet for emotional expression (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="D2006">Dillard,
               2006</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017">Gavrielidou &amp; Odell-Miller,
               2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="K2006">Kenny, 2006</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2019"
               >Seabrook, 2019</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2005">Scheiby, 2005</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="SL2014">Strehlow &amp; Lindner, 2014</xref>). These moments are
            crucial and necessary for growth and change. Better understanding and identification
            could impact the direction of the therapeutic progress, relationship, and growth. As the
            therapist is better able to guide the client through these periods of growth and change,
            the client is better able to incorporate these changes and progress in their own process
               (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="D2006">Dillard, 2006</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="GOM2017">Gavrielidou &amp; Odell-Miller, 2017</xref>). Significant and pivotal
            moments as information sources could greatly contribute to the therapeutic process and
            relationship in the absence of verbal processing and communication between the therapist
            and client as is often the case in work with individuals diagnosed with I/DD.</p>
         <p>Individuals who have experienced less access to emotional expression understood and
            accepted by mental health professionals can experience pivotal and meaningful moments in
            improvisation and could benefit from identification, validation, and processing of their
            emotions in therapy (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="AO2011">Adams &amp; Oliver, 2011</xref>;
               <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>). Information gathered from
            sources beyond verbal dialogue (nonverbal communication, musical improvisation, and
            countertransference) could contribute to the understanding and deepening of therapeutic
            growth (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="AO2011">Adams &amp; Oliver, 2011</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="FCB2017">Foubert et al., 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017"
               >Gavrielidou &amp; Odell-Miller, 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="L2014">Lee,
               2014</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="SL2014">Strehlow &amp; Lindner, 2014</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017">Swaney, 2017</xref>). Given these understandings and the
            limited amount of existing literature acknowledging the impact of the therapist’s
            understanding and validating of emotional processing work within therapy with
            individuals diagnosed with I/DD, the purpose of this paper is to highlight specific
            significant moments within musical improvisations and their clinical implications.</p>
         <p>The next four composite clinical excerpts are examples of significant moments in music
            therapy with individuals diagnosed with I/DD who have various communication methods and
            use music for self-expression. When sharing case examples of any kind, it is important
            to recognize and reflect on the fact that these are stories and moments in the lives of
            real people. While they can hold a great deal of weight and have the capacity to share
            knowledge that could benefit future clinicians and clients, these stories are often
            deeply personal and should be treated with great care and respect. Because of this fact,
            it is imperative to consider client preference and seek permission when hoping to share
            their stories with others. Permission for sharing their stories with others was gained
            in these instances directly from the clients involved in the creation of these composite
            cases.</p>
         <p>Composite cases were selected in this instance as a method of further protecting the
            identities of clients involved, providing rich examples derived from work with multiple
            people, and offering input from a diverse range of people. Composite cases were created
            by combining aspects of different clients who had similar instances occur in their
            therapy and could bring together their similarities and unique features to create a
            cohesive case example. These excerpts demonstrate clinical work that is driven by a
            variety of information sources including musical elements, behavior, body movement,
            affect, verbal language, and therapist countertransference. Each excerpt is preceded by
            a description of the client and followed by a discussion of salient elements of each
            significant moment.</p>
         <p>After each example is a discussion written in first person from the therapist’s point of
            view about their experience and how it relates to the literature. The therapist included
            in this paper is also the author. To situate the therapist’s narrative in these examples
            a short introduction is necessary.</p>
         <p>I am a white, able-bodied, neurotypical, cisgender, heterosexual woman living and
            working in the southeast region of the United States. Through my parents’ work as
            therapeutic foster care providers, during my childhood and adolescence, I have had
            multiple siblings with whom I have had very close relationships who were diagnosed with
            various disabilities. This experience and my experiences as a person with an anxiety
            disorder have greatly shaped the ways in which I perceive and respond to events and
            people. At the time of these excerpts, I was a fairly new music therapist at an
            Intermediate Care Facility (ICF) in an interdisciplinary team with four other creative
            arts therapists. I practice from a lens that is informed by the social model of
            disability, disability studies, and humanistic therapy (<xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="C2014">Cameron, 2014</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="G2014">Goodley,
               2014</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="HT2018">Hadley &amp; Thomas, 2018</xref>;
               <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="ML2018">Moore &amp; Lagasse, 2018</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="R2014">Rolvsjord, 2014</xref>). Advocacy for the needs and
            interests of clients and empowerment of individuals to engage actively with the
            direction of their therapeutic journeys is an important aspect of my practice. Clinical
            improvisation is incorporated into the majority of sessions, which has allowed for me to
            have increased authenticity in practice through being flexible, perceptive, and
            responsive in the moment.</p>
      </sec>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 end -->
      <!-- sec lvl 2 begin -->
      <sec>
         <title>Case Examples</title>
         <!-- sec lvl 3 begin -->
         <sec>
            <title>Countertransference as a Window Into Client Experience</title>
            <p>
               <bold>
                  <italic>Kate</italic>
               </bold> was a young woman in her 30s who had an incredible relationship with music.
               She enjoyed a wide variety of music and expressed herself most readily through vocal
               and body improvisation. Kate would often participate in very long improvisations with
               the therapist, sometimes lasting 20-minutes or more. She sometimes engaged in self
               injurious behavior and used a helmet and arm splints to prevent injury 24-hours a
               day, with more restrictive restraints to use when her behaviors escalated. She
               communicated largely through body movement and affect. Kate used her time in music
               therapy to address needs in the areas of self-expression, self-awareness, and
               emotional regulation.</p>
            <disp-quote>
               <p>Kate was lying completely covered under her weighted blanket in the back room at
                  her work site when I arrived. The staff said she had been upset earlier in the day
                  and had gone to the back room to have some “quiet time.” According to staff, Kate
                  had been upset for much of the day and it was requested that I leave her alone if
                  she was still upset. I told the staff that I would see how Kate was feeling and
                  assess whether music therapy was appropriate for that time. Kate was very upset
                  when I arrived in the room. She was vocalizing loudly “Mama,” crying and engaging
                  in occasional self-injurious behavior. Each time I tried to sing a song that I
                  knew she was familiar with and had been meaningful for her in the past, she became
                  more upset. As a final effort before leaving the room, I began an improvisation on
                  the guitar using softly finger picked styles in E minor. At times when Kate was
                  exhibiting stronger signs of distress (loud vocalizations, tears, tense body
                  movement, erratic rhythmic motives), I simplified the music by reducing the number
                  of strings I was using and plucking the low E string on the guitar in a slow and
                  steady fashion. Once she calmed, I slowly increased the musical features of the
                  improvisation to support her vocalizations and movement by adding melodic
                  fragments and tonal features. After about 20 minutes of this procedure, I noticed
                  a change in Kate’s movement, increased steadiness of rhythmic rocking, and use of
                  small percussion instruments, that indicated an openness to strummed patterns and
                  vocal improvisation. I started a new chordal pattern moving back and forth between
                  an E power chord and an A power chord with an added 9<sup>th</sup>. She looked up
                  at me and I was immediately overcome with a calm sadness. I improvised a vocal
                  melody over this chord progression using the words “It’s okay to feel this way”
                  allowing the final note of the phrase to jump into the upper range of my voice,
                  almost as if it was cracking. Her gaze strengthened as she continued to look me
                  directly in the eye. The sadness deepened as I added an additional phrase using
                  power chords with added tension. Kate let out an “Ahhhhhh” vocalization that
                  lasted for as long as her breath could sustain it. We continued this improvisation
                  for several minutes. Next, I improvised a song about Kate’s love, what I hoped it
                  was for her and what I hoped it brought for her. She directly responded to my
                  words in her music, actions, and affect. When I sang about her music, she
                  vocalized and played the small percussion instruments even louder. When I sang
                  about her smile, she turned to me and laughed. When it was time for me to leave
                  the session, I felt very full and heavy and could not really place a label on the
                  emotion I was feeling. My eyes were filling with tears of joy and thankfulness.
               </p>
            </disp-quote>
            <p>Kate was very clearly communicating her needs through her affect, body movement, and
               engagement in the session. I intuitively responded through words, music, and a
               supportive presence. The music was overall structured with repetitive melodic
               fragments and song form to allow Kate to explore and express her internal experience.
               This structure contributed to the predictability in the musical space essential to
               deeper emotional exploration (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017">Gavrielidou &amp;
                  Odell-Miller, 2017</xref>). Kate’s various body movements could look similar
               whether they meant relaxed and content or tense and anxious, if the therapist had not
               also taken affect, speed, rhythmic consistency, and musical elements into account.
               Erratic body movement with tension in the body and affect led me to support by
               removing overwhelming stimuli until Kate communicated that she was open to additional
               tonal and melodic features. Rocking of the body in a steady and rhythmic fashion
               accompanied by a relaxed or bright affect would indicate that Kate was ready to
               engage with more diverse musical elements and that she may be feeling an increased
               level of connection to her body. Her vocalizations also used more open syllables as
               the session progressed and had a felt sense of release to them. During this excerpt,
               Kate modulated from the first type of movement to the second type because she was
               given the space and time to communicate her needs rather than having demands placed
               on her and interventions that she was expected to participate in (<xref
                  ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>). I was present in the moment
               and reacted according to Kate’s communication and my own intuition and
               countertransference.</p>
            <p>This excerpt provided very clear examples of countertransference. I felt sadness that
               was not my own and that I had not been feeling prior to that interaction. These
               feelings were sometimes indescribable and lasted into other parts of the day.
               Countertransference has been described as an uncontrollably strong and sometimes
               out-of-character reaction to a particular stimulus (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="D2006"
                  >Dillard, 2006</xref>). I was able to take this information and use it to inform
               my view of what Kate may have been experiencing during that session and provide
               future direction for our work together. Because Kate was so clearly impacted by
               processing her emotions through improvisation, I could ensure that space would be
               available in the future for this type of processing. Additionally, the staff
               witnessing this interaction and Kate’s ability to safely process her emotions in ways
               she had been unable to earlier in the day, allowed for them to become an advocate for
               Kate to have access to music therapy when she was feeling upset rather than asking
               for Kate to be left alone.</p>
         </sec>
         <!-- sec lvl 3 end -->
         <!-- sec lvl 3 begin -->
         <sec>
            <title>Shifts Found Within Patterns of Interactions </title>
            <p>
               <bold>
                  <italic>Alison</italic>
               </bold>
               <italic> </italic>was a young woman in her 30s who had recently moved to a
               residential facility and self-identified improving her coping skills to be her goal
               for her time in music therapy. She had an extremely powerful voice and connected most
               to southern gospel and other Christian music. She typically refused participation in
               experiences using music that she was unfamiliar with. Alison indicated interest in
               working on a variety of musical projects including learning some guitar, recording
               and performing songs, writing her own music, and playing piano. Alison had a
               diagnosis of borderline personality disorder and became easily frustrated with these
               projects if they became challenging for her, and would often request to end early if
               she was not happy with the outcome of a project. Alison sometimes desired close
               connection with significant people in her life (her therapist and staff), and at
               other times Alison was distant and withdrawn from them. She had a history of violence
               towards others, threats of violence against herself, and destruction of property.
               Earlier in the week of this selected example, Alison had become aggressive towards
               support staff in her building and caused a great deal of property damage.</p>
            <disp-quote>
               <p>I arrived a few minutes early for our session and Alison was there waiting on me.
                  I asked if she wanted me to hang out until it was time or if she wanted to start
                  early. Alison was excited to get started and expressed that we should begin right
                  away. Earlier in the day she had said she was feeling “crampy” and that she might
                  not be able to do what we had planned to do during the session. I provided a
                  choice of four different songs for us to use for expressive movement. Alison
                  originally said she wanted to dance to the fastest one, but then when I played the
                  song she said she did not like it and asked if I brought a country song for us to
                  dance to. I told her that I didn’t bring in songs because she would know them, but
                  because I thought she would like to hear the message each song had. I told her the
                  message of each song and asked that she choose what she needed to hear that day.
                  She selected a song called ‘Morning Prayer, I will surrender’, which happened to
                  be the slowest song I had brought that day. She chose to use rainbow ribbon
                  streamers as a movement prop while I moved with a scarf. Alison began the movement
                  experience with her body turned perpendicularly from mine. She then turned towards
                  me and was moving her ribbon streamers very rapidly to the slowness of the music.
                  I joined her in this rapid movement, intensified it while lifting my arms above my
                  head, then suddenly sank into slow and flowing movements. Alison joined me and
                  continued these slow movements in connection with me for the rest of the song. Her
                  posture shifted so that she was facing me and she initiated bringing our movement
                  props together or trading them several times throughout. The lyrics towards the
                  end of the song were “I am kinder every moment every day, I am more loving … . I
                  will surrender to my highest greatest good.” I sang out loud in the space between
                  the words “I am kinder, I’m more loving, I’m trying my best.” Alison joined me in
                  singing and vocalizing in the space between the words until the music came to an
                  end. I had goosebumps and a feeling of awe after the song ended. Alison stated
                  that she too had goosebumps and identified the words “I’m trying my best” to be
                  the most significant part of the experience.</p>
            </disp-quote>
            <p>Alison was initially unsure about participation in this experience that was outside
               of her familiar musical interactions. She was requesting faster music to move to and
               had traditionally used upbeat tempo as a method to escape her feelings and keep
               interactions in therapy on a surface level. When Alison began moving her ribbon
               streamers rapidly and in contrast to the music and myself, I joined her and she
               shifted, choosing to alter her movements to match the musical elements present. This
               shift allowed us to entrain our movements together into a period of temporal
               interpersonal synchronicity (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="FCB2017">Foubert et al.,
                  2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2010">Stern, 2010</xref>). This is also
               supported by the characteristics of the initial musical interaction, which fell into
               the category of “music as a place of withdrawal” as evidenced by Alison’s body
               posture and temporal disconnect from the music where she withdrew into an inner
               safety (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="SL2014">Strehlow &amp; Linder, 2014</xref>). After
               the point of connection, Alison and I moved into a mixture of “music gives structure”
               and “music as a way of not being alone” where we fell back on the structure of the
               repetitive song and Alison initiated several connecting movements, such as trading
               props. The structure found in the repetitive form of the music and the safety of the
               strong therapeutic relationship allowed Alison to connect with the experience and
               further enabled the significant moment to occur (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017"
                  >Gavrielidou &amp; Odell-Miller, 2017</xref>). The slight disruption in structure
               when certain words were emphasized by repeating them propelled us into a unifying
               affective response and accompanying realization of the impact of that moment (<xref
                  ref-type="bibr" rid="D2006">Dillard, 2006</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
                  rid="FCB2017">Foubert et al., 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="KSVRKS2021"
                  >Kleinlooh et al., 2021</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2005">Scheiby,
                  2005</xref>). Alison confirmed that this moment was significant by identifying the
               disruption of structure as the most impactful portion of the session and expressing
               that she had received the message she needed from that interaction.</p>
         </sec>
         <!-- sec lvl 3 end -->
         <!-- sec lvl 3 begin -->
         <sec>
            <title>Physical Safety to Allow Emotional Expression and Exploration</title>
            <p>
               <bold>
                  <italic>Ethan</italic>
               </bold> was a 20-year-old man who began music therapy two weeks after being admitted
               to a residential facility from another group home. He was very energetic and seemed
               curious about his surroundings. Ethan enjoyed actively exploring the space and
               objects in the room. Ethan communicated primarily through grabbing objects and some
               gestures. His affect was sometimes blunted or inappropriate to other behavioral
               indicators of internal feeling state. Ethan had a history of property destruction,
               aggression, and self-injurious behavior. He also had a history of social isolation
               from a young age and spent much of his formative years alone. It was evident from the
               beginning that Ethan had a deep connection to music, was extremely interested in the
               guitar, and was motivated by a wide variety of musical styles. He often engaged in
               music by strumming the guitar, putting his hand inside the sound hole, drumming on
               the body of the guitar, moving his body, and vocalizing on a variety of syllables
               mostly in the extreme high range of his voice. His body movement was varied and he
               would sometimes rock his body back and forth, jump, spin, raise his arms above his
               head, and twist his head and neck in half circles from left to right.</p>
            <disp-quote>
               <p>Ethan was in his classroom and came to the door when I arrived. He seemed excited
                  to see me and had a bright affect as he greeted me. I sang our typical greeting
                  song while Ethan rocked his body and moved around the room. In an instant, his
                  affect shifted and he very suddenly head butted me in the forehead. His one-on-one
                  staff stood between us while I assessed myself. Ethan was sitting on the floor now
                  and vocalizing repetitive higher pitched sounds. I tuned the guitar to DADGAD and
                  moved into guitar improvisation to facilitate emotional expression. As I began
                  changing the tuning, Ethan vocalized along with the pitches and stood up to pluck
                  the strings. He pulled the strings towards himself forcefully, vocalized high
                  pitched sounds and began moving around the room. Ethan walked around the room with
                  instances of sudden jumps and other movements. I played a finger-picked style with
                  sudden syncopated, loud and heavily strummed bar chords at the third and second
                  frets. Ethan matched this with syncopated rhythmic drumming on the floor with his
                  hand. I stomped my foot in response. Ethan again joined me in plucking the strings
                  on the guitar and was focused on the higher pitched strings above the nut. This
                  pattern of movement, guitar playing, and sitting on the floor continued and was
                  joined by a “sssshhhhhhh” vocalization that I matched with my voice and by playing
                  harmonics on the guitar. At times, Ethan walked away and then would come back when
                  I added a melodic fragment in the higher range of the guitar. After about twenty
                  minutes of improvisation I noticed that he had been sitting on the floor with his
                  ears covered for longer than he had previously during the session. I tuned the
                  guitar back to standard tuning and Ethan vocalized along with each pitch. I then
                  sang a very light and soft blessing song and thanked Ethan for sharing his music.
               </p>
            </disp-quote>
            <p>Ethan experienced a significant change in affect and musical elements from the
               beginning to the end of the excerpt above. At the beginning, Ethan was moving around
               the room at a faster rate and exhibiting more agitated movements, such as hitting the
               floor and syncopated jumps where the force was more directed at the floor. Ethan was
               quietly sitting on the floor, had increased his vocal range by lowering it over an
               octave, and congruently related to a slower finger-picked blessing song by the end of
               the session.</p>
            <p>This interaction supported an idea mentioned in the literature that behavior, such as
               self-injurious behavior or aggression, may have a cause that is unable to be
               determined from the behavior itself (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell,
                  2013</xref>). Just prior to him head butting me, something was triggered in Ethan
               that he needed to process. He was then given the space to be met musically, express
               his internal experience, and move into a calmer and safer state. Additionally, his
               behavior was not sought to be changed or diminished through the improvisation, but a
               space was provided for him to express his internal state in ways that were both
               authentic to him and safe for everyone in the room (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2019"
                  >Seabrook, 2019</xref>). It should be noted that the one-on-one support staff
               present in this session was essential to providing this baseline physical safety that
               allowed me to focus instead on creating a psychologically safe and responsive
               environment for Ethan to process his internal experience. There were times during the
               session when Ethan would begin to engage in movement that could potentially cause
               himself physical harm and the staff was quick and gentle with a response that allowed
               the movement to continue safely. As mentioned by Lee (<xref ref-type="bibr"
                  rid="L2014">2014</xref>), staff can provide a wealth of information and aid in
               ways that allow the therapist to focus on other areas knowing that a trusted partner
               is there when needed for further support.</p>
         </sec>
         <!-- sec lvl 3 end -->
         <!-- sec lvl 3 begin -->
         <sec>
            <title>Grief Work Through the Purposes of Music</title>
            <p>
               <bold>
                  <italic>Harold</italic>
               </bold>
               <italic> </italic>was a middle-aged man who had lived in institutional settings for
               most of his life and had a long-term history of involvement with various creative
               arts therapists. He communicated primarily through context, gestures, and a
               communication binder with reference pictures that he kept with him. Harold was
               diagnosed with anxiety in addition to intellectual disabilities, and his music
               therapy had primarily been relaxation-based using a vibroacoustic therapy bed for a
               few years. Harold’s mother passed away suddenly, which led to a need for a new kind
               of processing that he had not engaged in previously with the therapist.</p>
            <disp-quote>
               <p>When Harold arrived in his session on the day he found out his mother had passed
                  away, we held our session in the chapel at his request. Harold expressed that he
                  would like for me to improvise on the piano as he listened. The first
                  improvisation was my felt impression of how Harold was feeling. It was played in a
                  minor mode with descending melodic and harmonic motion, moderately slow tempo and
                  short repetitive phrases. After the music was finished, Harold silently turned his
                  head towards me with tears in his eyes and began slowly nodding his head. Harold
                  used gestures, newly created communication cards, and approximated words to
                  communicate his preferences for a new improvisation. He requested that the next
                  improvisation be fast, lower pitched, and represent feelings of being angry,
                  nervous, and upset. I played in a locrian mode with a fast out-of-control sounding
                  melodic figure in the left hand. There were loud bursts of added dissonance which
                  were unpredictable and did not relate to other structural elements of the music.
                  Harold again confirmed that both improvisations aligned with how he felt and
                  immediately, unprompted, requested that the second improvisation be played again.
                  As it was now towards the end of his session time, Harold and I came up with a
                  gestural signal that he would use to direct the moment in the improvisation that
                  the music would shift from an upset mood to sounds that represented his coping
                  skills. When asked, he communicated that he needed the music to provide a space to
                  feel the sadness.</p>
            </disp-quote>
            <p>Harold used a variety of communication methods pieced together to meaningfully
               dialogue about his internal feeling states and experience with the loss of his mother
                  (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
                  rid="CM2005">Cascella, 2005</xref>). The music allowed Harold, who had some
               physical limitations that may have prevented him from creating music that accurately
               matched what he needed to express, to describe and then hear how he was feeling
               musically reflected. Harold confirmed that he understood what purposes music had and
               used communication supports that we created together to advocate for his needs.
               Harold needed to feel the emotion more than he needed someone to direct him through a
               discussion of his coping skills and how to put this event in the past. It was
               important in this space that I emptied myself of expectations for what Harold needed
               and allowed myself to listen and work together with Harold to process the grief that
               accompanied the passing of his mother (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell,
                  2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2019">Seabrook, 2019</xref>).</p>
            <p>Harold had the ability to feel complex emotions and requested to use music to process
               and integrate these feelings (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>).
               I assisted his ability to autonomously participate in this process by creating a
               communication method that allowed Harold to decide what function the music should
               play on that day and offering musical containment opportunities for him to feel heard
               and understood (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2019">Seabrook, 2019</xref>). While
               Harold directed a large portion of the course of this therapy, I supported and guided
               the process by suggesting exercises and creating outlets for him to share his grief
               in ways that could then be understood by other support staff without him having to
               rely on communication aids that were not sufficient to expressing his experience.</p>
         </sec>
         <!-- sec lvl 3 end -->
      </sec>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 end -->
      <!-- sec lvl 2 begin -->
      <sec>
         <title>Discussion</title>
         <p>These composite examples provided application of the various types of communication used
            within sessions and how to incorporate them into a multifaceted understanding of the
            session. Alison’s typical method of communicating was through verbal language, but this
            often caused resistance and incongruent experiences in therapy when relying exclusively
            on verbal processing (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017">Gavrielidou &amp;
               Odell-Miller, 2017</xref>). Through connecting with her body in movement, Alison
            found connection with the therapist and the music that enabled her to find meaning in
            the message she had requested to hear from the music. By observing to Alison’s body
            positioning and the subtle changes in her movement patterns, the therapist gained a
            deeper understanding of what meaning the experience may have held. In the end, verbal
            processing proved to be unnecessary for Alison and the therapist following the movement
            improvisation. Harold combined many different forms of communication together to
            intricately address specific parts of the message he wished to share (<xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017"
               >Swaney, 2017</xref>). Harold had a working knowledge of the different resources
            available (gestures the therapist would recognize, picture cards available, words he
            could approximate, newly created communication cards, and song lyrics) and effortlessly
            moved between each method to generate discussion that led to musical processing of his
            grief. Ethan’s and Kate’s body movement, vocalizations, and musical characteristics
            provided additional insight into their processing needs and internal states (<xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="G2004"
               >Graham, 2004</xref>). It also became evident that some behaviors, head-butting and
            self-injury, had an underlying cause that was not necessarily connected to the action
            itself (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="S2017">Swaney, 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney,
               2020</xref>).</p>
         <p>In the institutional context where all of these individuals resided, these
            communications were frequently mis-labeled by professionals or missed altogether.
            Behaviors are often labeled without pause for reflection or consideration of context,
            which can lead to decisions and actions that do not actually support the needs being
            expressed by the individual (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>;
               <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017">Swaney, 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>). Movement and music, much like what is labeled as a
            “behavior” when working within the disability community, are external reflections of
            internal experiences. The two are both deeply connected to our bodies and internal
            rhythms, as our bodies are where our movement and music originate (<xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="S2010">Stern, 2010</xref>). By noticing shifts and changes in these external
            reflections, we are able to discover shifts happening internally and react appropriately
            to help provide safe spaces for authentic expression and processing.</p>
         <p>Both Ethan and Kate had been discouraged from processing and expressing more difficult
            emotions by staff members because it was not understood how best to provide them the
            physical safety and tools to move through those spaces. Kate’s staff, who knew her very
            well and had been working with her for many years longer than the therapist had,
            frequently discouraged the therapist from conducting sessions when Kate was upset
            despite previous experience demonstrating that music was a space in which Kate could
            safely express and move through tougher emotional spaces. When Kate’s body movement
            patterns were accurately interpreted and supported, she was able to use them to
            communicate her needs and direct the musical support she received during the session.
            Ethan similarly used his body to direct the musical structure of the session by
            oscillating between more fluid movements and sudden bursts of syncopation within his
            body rhythms. His need for expression of the tension built within himself was met and
            supported musically, which allowed him to express and move through this emotional state
            and ultimate build rapport with the therapist.</p>
         <p>Musical elements enabled the therapist to observe and interpret client response and
            engagement (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="G2004">Graham, 2004</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017"
               >Swaney, 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>). Ethan
            responded to the guitar by matching pitch to the strings in his vocalizations and then
            experienced changes in both his temporal relation to music and the vocal range he used.
            His participation and connection to the music and the therapist was evident in his
            musical contributions (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>). Kate
            vocalized using first tense, closed syllables and then moved to long and open syllables
            that had a felt sense of release to them as the session progressed. Harold described
            musical elements that reflected his internal feeling state as a method of creating a
            space for him to feel and process his sadness (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen,
               2013</xref>).</p>
         <p>Countertransference also played a role in each of these examples and impacted the
            therapist both during and after the session time. Countertransference can provide
            insight into the therapeutic relationship and the experience within the encounter when
            brought into conscious awareness and understood (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="D2006"
               >Dillard, 2006</xref>). While this has not been frequently discussed in music therapy
            within this population, it is an experience that occurs regardless of diagnosis and
            perceived functioning level. It is important for music therapists to understand these
            reactions to their work and process these experiences so that they are consciously
            understood and the therapists can continue to serve clients with less risk of negative
            impacts of continuous and significant countertransference (<xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="D2006">Dillard, 6005</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2005">Scheiby,
               2005</xref>).</p>
         <p>People also experience shared moments of connection and understanding through movement
            and body communication (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="DB2007">Dosamantes-Beaudry,
               2007</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2010">Stern, 2010</xref>). Musically,
            various body movements and approaches shape the sounds created and provide insight
            regarding what experience or meaning is underneath the music. Physically, our motor
            system receives information from these experiences and is shaped by what we feel. Our
            interpretation of music, interactions, and experiences is frequently determined by our
            perception of the elements beyond the notes and rhythms and visible movements. This
            kinesthetic empathy can deepen our understanding of particular events within the
            therapeutic process and provide insight to possible future steps towards growth and
            development.</p>
         <p>Within many areas of work that impact the disability community there are preconceived
            notions about what types of therapeutic growth and processing is achievable for people
            based on outside assessments of their abilities (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="AO2011"
               >Adams &amp; Oliver, 2011</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="G2004">Graham,
               2004</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="L2014">Lee, 2014</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017"
               >Swaney, 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney, 2020</xref>). This
            can create problematic situations for disabled individuals seeking therapeutic support
            services throughout many different stages of their lives. Using experiences and
            information gained from observation and learning through example, future clients can
            receive increased access to nonverbal emotional processing in therapy sessions. Bringing
            together the vast number of communication and informational resources available to
            therapists working within the disability community can weave a new network of
            understanding and advocacy for depth of therapeutic practice.</p>
      </sec>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 end -->
      <!-- sec lvl 2 begin -->
      <sec>
         <title>Conclusion</title>
         <p>Improvisation can empower the client and bring the therapist and client into a space of
            mutual responsiveness. The client then brings material into this space in a way that is
            autonomous, authentic, and accepted. The therapist can respond empathically, relying on
            intuition and present awareness, to match and meet the implicit needs and requests in
            the client’s offerings (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2005">Scheiby, 2005</xref>). This
            nonverbal method of self-expression allows for a greater ability to share thoughts,
            emotions, moments of connection, and more without the barriers and shortcomings of
            relying on verbal language. Because of this ability to interact, cultivate
            relationships, and participate in deep expression in a nonverbal manner, music therapy
            provides a unique space for clients to connect with and process emotional content using
            resources accessible to them beyond the limitations of words (<xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="D2006">Dillard, 2006</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="G2004">Graham,
               2004</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="P2013">Polen, 2013</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017">Swaney, 2017</xref>).</p>
         <p>Communication and processing take many forms including movement, sound, silence, and
            others (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="CM2005">Cascella, 2005</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="G2004">Graham,
               2004</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017">Swaney, 2017</xref>). Body based
            communication adds elements of embodied understanding and expression to otherwise
            primarily vision and sound-based strategies. Our rhythms and vibrations present in both
            visual and sound-based communications remain connected to our bodies and internal
            rhythms from which they originate (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2010">Stern,
            2010</xref>). These realizations lead to our understanding that music and movement are
            inseparable from ourselves and are deeply connected to our bodies.</p>
         <p>Significant and meaningful moments are present in work with adults diagnosed with I/DD
            and can serve as indicators of future therapy or achieved milestones (<xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017">Gavrielidou &amp; Odell-Miller, 2017</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="L2014">Lee, 2014</xref>). By remaining open to, and accepting
            of, information from all possible sources, both easily identified and more subjective,
            therapists may be better able to serve clients and proceed in partnership by
            incorporating information provided using information sources beyond words (<xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="AO2011">Adams &amp; Oliver, 2011</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr"
               rid="C2013">Caldwell, 2013</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="GOM2017">Gavrielidou
               &amp; Odell-Miller, 2017</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="L2014">Lee, 2014</xref>;
               <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="SL2014">Strehlow &amp; Lindner, 2014</xref>; <xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="S2017">Swaney, 2017</xref>). Deeper emotional work and support
            of emotional processing for adults diagnosed with I/DD could also be improved by
            therapists’ understanding and acceptance of these information sources (<xref
               ref-type="bibr" rid="D2006">Dillard, 2006</xref>; <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2005"
               >Scheiby, 2005</xref>). Additionally, advocacy for change within the everyday
            environment to accept and support communicative intent of the expressions of people
            diagnosed with I/DD may also increase the ability of clients to generalize relational
            growth to other areas of their lives (<xref ref-type="bibr" rid="S2020">Swaney,
               2020</xref>).</p>
         <p>It is hoped that by bringing this information together and providing clinical examples
            that music therapists will consider their own clinical work and how these principles
            apply. Increased awareness of these ideas and how they connect to music therapy with
            adults diagnosed with I/DD and using various communication methods has the possibility
            to inspire and change the way clinicians practice and view their work in this
            population. With new tools and information sources available, there are new and
            unexpected opportunities for insight for both therapists and clients alike.</p>
      </sec>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 end -->
      <!-- sec lvl 2 begin -->
      <sec>
         <title>Funding </title>
         <p>There was no funding for this project.</p>
      </sec>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 end -->
      <!-- sec lvl 2 begin -->
      <sec>
         <title>About the Author</title>
         <p>Katelyn Beebe is a music therapist based in North Carolina, United States. She received
            a Bachelor of music performance and then went on to complete both the equivalency and
            Master of Music Therapy programs at Appalachian State University. Katelyn’s research
            interests include extraverbal communication in therapy, improvisational music therapy,
            and empowerment of clients to participate actively in directing their therapeutic
            journeys. </p>
      </sec>
      <!-- sec lvl 2 end -->
   </body>
   <back>
      <ref-list>
         <ref id="AO2011">
            <!--Adams, D., & Oliver, C. (2011). The expression and assessment of emotions and internal states in individuals with severe or profound intellectual disabilities. <italic>Clinical Psychology Review, 31, </italic>293–306. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1016/j.cpr.2011.01.003</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Adams, D., &amp;
               Oliver, C. (2011). The expression and assessment of emotions and internal states in
               individuals with severe or profound intellectual disabilities. <italic>Clinical
                  Psychology Review, 31, </italic>293–306.
                  <uri>http://doi.org/10.1016/j.cpr.2011.01.003</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="B2014">
            <!--Bruscia, K. (2014). <italic>Defining music therapy </italic>(3rd ed.). University Park.-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="book" publication-format="print">Bruscia, K. (2014).
                  <italic>Defining music therapy </italic>(3rd ed.). University
               Park.</mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="C2013">
            <!--Caldwell, P. (2013). Intensive interaction: Using body language to communicate. <italic>Journal on Developmental Disabilities, 19, </italic>33–39. -->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="print">Caldwell, P.
               (2013). Intensive interaction: Using body language to communicate. <italic>Journal on
                  Developmental Disabilities, 19, </italic>33–39. </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="C2014">
            <!--Cameron, C. (2014). Does disability studies have anything to say to music therapy? And would music therapy listen if it did? <italic>Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy, 14. </italic>Retrieved from <uri>https://voices.no/index.php/voices/article/view/2222/1976</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="book" publication-format="web">Cameron, C. (2014).
               Does disability studies have anything to say to music therapy? And would music
               therapy listen if it did? <italic>Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy, 14.
               </italic>Retrieved from
                  <uri>https://voices.no/index.php/voices/article/view/2222/1976</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="C2017">
            <!--Cameron, H. J. (2017). Long term music therapy for people with intellectual disabilities and the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS). <italic>Australian Journal ofMusic Therapy, 28</italic>, 1–15.-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="print">Cameron, H. J.
               (2017). Long term music therapy for people with intellectual disabilities and the
               National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS). <italic>Australian Journal ofMusic
                  Therapy, 28</italic>, 1–15.</mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="CM2005">
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Cascella, P. W., &amp;
               McNamara, K. M. (2005). Empowering students with severe disabilities to actualize
               communication skills. <italic>TEACHING Exceptional Children</italic>, 37(3), 38–43.
               <uri>https://doi.org/10.1177/004005990503700306</uri></mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="CSMWA2007">
            <!--Cooper, S., Smiley, E., Morrison, J., Williamson, A., & Allan, L. (2007). Mental ill-health in adults with intellectual disabilities: Prevalence and associated factors. <italic>British Journal of Psychiatry, 190</italic>, 27–35. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1192/bjp.bp.106.022483</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Cooper, S., Smiley,
               E., Morrison, J., Williamson, A., &amp; Allan, L. (2007). Mental ill-health in adults
               with intellectual disabilities: Prevalence and associated factors. <italic>British
                  Journal of Psychiatry, 190</italic>, 27–35.
                  <uri>http://doi.org/10.1192/bjp.bp.106.022483</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="D2006">
            <!--Dillard, L. (2006). Musical countertransference experiences of music therapists: A phenomenological study. <italic>The Arts in Psychotherapy, 33, </italic>208–217. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1016/j.aip.2006.01.002</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Dillard, L. (2006).
               Musical countertransference experiences of music therapists: A phenomenological
               study. <italic>The Arts in Psychotherapy, 33, </italic>208–217.
                  <uri>http://doi.org/10.1016/j.aip.2006.01.002</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="DB2007">
            <!--Dosamantes-Beaudry, I. (2007). Somatic transference and countertransference in psychoanalytic intersubjective dance/movement therapy. <italic>American Journal of Dance Therapy, 29, </italic>73-89. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1007/s10465-007-9035-6</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Dosamantes-Beaudry,
               I. (2007). Somatic transference and countertransference in psychoanalytic
               intersubjective dance/movement therapy. <italic>American Journal of Dance Therapy,
                  29, </italic>73-89. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1007/s10465-007-9035-6</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="EEE2011">
            <!--Einfeld, S., Ellis, L., & Emerson, E. (2011). Comorbidity of intellectual disability and mental disorder in children and adolescents: A systematic review. <italic>Journal of Intellectual and Developmental Disability, 36</italic>, 137–143. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1080/13668250.2011.572548</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Einfeld, S., Ellis,
               L., &amp; Emerson, E. (2011). Comorbidity of intellectual disability and mental
               disorder in children and adolescents: A systematic review. <italic>Journal of
                  Intellectual and Developmental Disability, 36</italic>, 137–143.
                  <uri>http://doi.org/10.1080/13668250.2011.572548</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="FCB2017">
            <!--Foubert, K., Collins, T., & Backer, J. (2017). Impaired maintenance of interpersonal synchronization in musical improvisations of patients with borderline personality disorder. <italic>Frontiers in Psychology, 8</italic>, 1–17. <uri>http://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2017.00537</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Foubert, K.,
               Collins, T., &amp; Backer, J. (2017). Impaired maintenance of interpersonal
               synchronization in musical improvisations of patients with borderline personality
               disorder. <italic>Frontiers in Psychology, 8</italic>, 1–17.
                  <uri>http://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2017.00537</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="GOM2017">
            <!--Gavrielidou, M., & Odell-Miller, H. (2017). An investigation of pivotal moments in music therapy in adult mental health. <italic>The Arts in Psychotherapy, 52, </italic>50–62. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1016/j.aip.2016.09.006</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Gavrielidou, M.,
               &amp; Odell-Miller, H. (2017). An investigation of pivotal moments in music therapy
               in adult mental health. <italic>The Arts in Psychotherapy, 52, </italic>50–62.
                  <uri>http://doi.org/10.1016/j.aip.2016.09.006</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="G2014">
            <!--Goodley, D. (2014). <italic>Dis/ability studies: Theorising disablism and ableism</italic>. Routledge.-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="book" publication-format="print">Goodley, D. (2014).
                  <italic>Dis/ability studies: Theorising disablism and ableism</italic>.
               Routledge.</mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="G2004">
            <!--Graham, J. (2004). Communicating with the uncommunicative: Music therapy with pre-verbal adults. <italic>British Journal of Learning Disabilities, 32</italic>, 24–29. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-3156.2004.00247.x</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Graham, J. (2004).
               Communicating with the uncommunicative: Music therapy with pre-verbal adults.
                  <italic>British Journal of Learning Disabilities, 32</italic>, 24–29.
                  <uri>http://doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-3156.2004.00247.x</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="HT2018">
            <!--Hadley, S., & Thomas, N. (2018). Critical humanism in music therapy: Imagining the possibilities. <italic>Music Therapy Perspectives, 36</italic>, 168–173.-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="print">Hadley, S., &amp;
               Thomas, N. (2018). Critical humanism in music therapy: Imagining the possibilities.
                  <italic>Music Therapy Perspectives, 36</italic>, 168–173.</mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="K2006">
            <!--Kenny, C. (2006). <italic>Music and Life in the Field of Play: An Anthology</italic>. Barcelona Publishers.-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="book" publication-format="print">Kenny, C. (2006).
                  <italic>Music and Life in the Field of Play: An Anthology</italic>. Barcelona
               Publishers.</mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="KSVRKS2021">
            <!--Kleinlooh, S., Samaritter, R., van Rijn, R., Kulpers, G., & Stubbe, J. (2021). Dance movement therapy for clients with a personality disorder: A systematic review and thematic synthesis. <italic>Frontiers in Psychology, 12</italic>, 1–12. <uri>http://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2021.581578</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Kleinlooh, S.,
               Samaritter, R., van Rijn, R., Kulpers, G., &amp; Stubbe, J. (2021). Dance movement
               therapy for clients with a personality disorder: A systematic review and thematic
               synthesis. <italic>Frontiers in Psychology, 12</italic>, 1–12.
                  <uri>http://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2021.581578</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="L2014">
            <!--Lee, J. (2014). A Phenomenological study of the interpersonal relationships between five music therapists and adults with profound intellectual and multiple disabilities. <italic>Qualitative Inquiries in Music Therapy</italic>, 943–86.-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="print">Lee, J. (2014). A
               Phenomenological study of the interpersonal relationships between five music
               therapists and adults with profound intellectual and multiple disabilities.
                  <italic>Qualitative Inquiries in Music Therapy</italic>, 943–86.</mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="ML2018">
            <!--Moore, K., & Lagasse, B. (2018). Parallels and divergence between neuroscience and humanism: Considerations for the music therapist. <italic>Music Therapy Perspectives, 36, </italic>144–151. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1093/mtp/miy011</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Moore, K., &amp;
               Lagasse, B. (2018). Parallels and divergence between neuroscience and humanism:
               Considerations for the music therapist. <italic>Music Therapy Perspectives, 36,
               </italic>144–151. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1093/mtp/miy011</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="P2013">
            <!--Polen, D. (2013). Severe to profound intellectual and developmental disabilities. In M. Hintz (Ed.), <italic>Guidelines for Music Therapy Practice in Developmental Care. </italic>Barcelona Publishers. -->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="print">Polen, D. (2013).
               Severe to profound intellectual and developmental disabilities. In M. Hintz (Ed.),
                  <italic>Guidelines for Music Therapy Practice in Developmental Care.
               </italic>Barcelona Publishers. </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="R2014">
            <!--Rolvsjord, R. (2014). The competent client and the complexity of dis-ability. <italic>Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy, 14. </italic>Retrieved from <uri>https://voices.no/index.php/voices/article/view/2217/1971</uri> -->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="book" publication-format="web">Rolvsjord, R. (2014).
               The competent client and the complexity of dis-ability. <italic>Voices: A World Forum
                  for Music Therapy, 14. </italic>Retrieved from
                  <uri>https://voices.no/index.php/voices/article/view/2217/1971</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="S2005">
            <!--Scheiby, B. (2005). An intersubjective approach to music therapy: Identification and processing of musical countertransference in a music psychotherapeutic context. <italic>Music Therapy Perspectives, 23</italic>, 8–17. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1093/mtp/23.1.8</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Scheiby, B. (2005).
               An intersubjective approach to music therapy: Identification and processing of
               musical countertransference in a music psychotherapeutic context. <italic>Music
                  Therapy Perspectives, 23</italic>, 8–17.
                  <uri>http://doi.org/10.1093/mtp/23.1.8</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="S2019">
            <!--Seabrook, D. (2019). Toward a radical practice: A recuperative critique of improvisation in music therapy using intersectional feminist theory. <italic>The Arts in Psychotherapy, 63</italic>, 1–8. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1016/j.aip.2019.04.002</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Seabrook, D. (2019).
               Toward a radical practice: A recuperative critique of improvisation in music therapy
               using intersectional feminist theory. <italic>The Arts in Psychotherapy, 63</italic>,
               1–8. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1016/j.aip.2019.04.002</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="S2010">
            <!--Stern, D. (2010). <italic>Forms of vitality: Exploring dynamic experience in psychology, the arts, psychotherapy, and development.</italic> Oxford University Press. -->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="book" publication-format="print">Stern, D. (2010).
                  <italic>Forms of vitality: Exploring dynamic experience in psychology, the arts,
                  psychotherapy, and development.</italic> Oxford University Press.
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="SL2014">
            <!--Strehlow, G. & Lindner, R. (2014). Music therapy interaction patterns in relation to borderline personality disorder (BPD) patients. <italic>Nordic Journal of Music Therapy, 25</italic>, 134–158. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1080/08098131.2015.1011207</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Strehlow, G. &amp;
               Lindner, R. (2014). Music therapy interaction patterns in relation to borderline
               personality disorder (BPD) patients. <italic>Nordic Journal of Music Therapy,
                  25</italic>, 134–158. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1080/08098131.2015.1011207</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="S2017">
            <!--Swaney, M. (2017). Dialogue in the music: A music therapist’s perspective on meaningful communication with people with severe and profound intellectual disability. <italic>Intellectual Disability Australia, </italic>12–15. -->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="print">Swaney, M. (2017).
               Dialogue in the music: A music therapist’s perspective on meaningful communication
               with people with severe and profound intellectual disability. <italic>Intellectual
                  Disability Australia, </italic>12–15. </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
         <ref id="S2020">
            <!--Swaney, M. (2020). Four relational experiences in music therapy with adults with severe and profound intellectual disability. <italic>Music Therapy Perspectives, 38</italic>, 69–79. <uri>http://doi.org/10.1093/mtp/miz015</uri>-->
            <mixed-citation publication-type="journal" publication-format="web">Swaney, M. (2020).
               Four relational experiences in music therapy with adults with severe and profound
               intellectual disability. <italic>Music Therapy Perspectives, 38</italic>, 69–79.
                  <uri>http://doi.org/10.1093/mtp/miz015</uri>
            </mixed-citation>
         </ref>
      </ref-list>
   </back>
</article>
