Harsh Lessons on the Harvest Moon

It’s the full moon. Harvest Moon to be precise.

Guess where I am? 

That’s right! A drum circle! 

There’s about an hour left, but I’m not going to make it tonight. 

I hurt myself. 

Otherwise, I would be drumming instead of blogging. 

I fell victim to both a curse and blessing of the medicine of rhythm. From a music medicine perspective, Rhythm is medicine for the body. It brings us into alignment and connection with all life.

E. Thayer Gaston, the Father of Music Therapy, says that rhythm is the “organizer and energizer.”

It is said West African drum cultures send drummers into the fields to play rhythms to support the harvest. The harvesters can work longer with less fatigue due to the rhythmic support.

The trap I fell into tonight was giving myself over completely to the rhythm without giving attention to how my body was responding. 

Physically, I was not tired. My muscles were keeping up quite nicely with the groove. When the tempo increased, the intensity of my playing increased. I played hard.

This is the first time I brought the Senegalese djembe I carry to this drum circle, and the first time his voice has been heard in months.  

And he’s in excellent voice tonight! 

So together, we sang the rhythms, full voice. 

After several minutes of this beautifully intense drumming, the rhythm shifted and faded away. 

Only when I stopped drumming did I realize what had happened. 

I hurt myself. 

 I’m wearing my wrist and elbow supports...necessary from past repetitive motion injuries, but the damage was done.  

I tried to drum again, and was met with shooting pains. Even the egg shaker that lives in my pocket was too much. 

This is a cautionary tale.  

I’ve been drumming for years. I know to pay attention to my body, yet I got caught up in the moment. When Gloria Estefan said “the rhythm is going to get you,” she was right. 

While immersed in the wonderful trance of the dancing, and the drumming, and the fire, and the full moon, don’t forget to attend to that cord that grounds you in your physical reality. Respect all facets of that present moment. Listen to your body. 

Nothing more frustrating than sitting out the rest of the drum circle because of an injury. 

Tonight, I’ll load up on the Tiger Balm, and the pain meds and hope like hell I feel better in time for my morning practice schedule. 

Music Therapists as Emotional Shamans

Fresh in my mind is a quote from Ethan Hawke that I shared in a recent blog post:

It doesn't come for free

To me, that means those of us who work in the creative arts, give of ourselves for the benefit of others. Sometimes we give so much that we forget to save anything for ourselves and our loved ones.

Now let me speak to part of the title of this post: shaman.

A word that is sometimes overused, much confused and a word that stirs passion in some about who is a shaman, who is not and the right to be called one. 

The term means different things to different people, but in simple terms, a shaman is one who has one foot in ordinary reality and one foot in non-ordinary reality. Spirit world, Afterlife, "The Other Side"...

The life of a shaman is one of service. Service to community. The shaman takes on the responsibility of going where most cannot in order to guide and serve the community...often at great personal cost.

Now consider the role of the music therapist. At times, we may offer our clients a compassionate ear, a shoulder to cry on, a sounding board for buried emotions. We laugh, and cry with those we serve. We co-create an emotional legacy for friends and families of our patients facing death. We help the combat veteran process anger, grief and survivor's guilt. We bear witness to the joy a parent feels as their autistic child emerges from their shell.

It seems to me that in the Information Age, we have access to an overwhelming amount of images and data from anywhere on this planet and beyond. People are losing their ability to effectively deal with their own emotions. So many turn to drugs, alcohol, gambling, sex, food...anything to try to deal with the overload. People stuff their emotions, afraid to see what is really there. And why not? 

Things are scary as hell out there. Let me keep my tunnel vision on my Facebook status and my Candy Crush level and my Instagram followers and please, please don't make me look! 

We, as music therapists can act as emotional shamans for our patients/clients/communities. 

We can ride our sacred drums into that mysterious and scary world of emotions, with courage, and bring back the wisdom that lies there for those we serve. Music opens the door to some potentially uncomfortable things for our clients. But it opens the door gently. It offers a warm hand and says, "It's okay. You're not alone anymore."

I can't count the number of times I played one song for someone, and then the person started to talk. They would tell me their stories. They would tell me about their fears around their current health challenges. They would share their concern for their grandsons and granddaughters in the military. They would speak fondly of their recently passed life partner and how they used to go to all the dances. They began to process their emotions because music opened the door for them.

We are the facilitators of those experiences. You'd better be damn sure you are bringing your "A" game every day. That means taking care of your mind/body/spirit. Yes, the responsibility is THAT important.

We walk where others have forgotten how to. We offer a non-threatening way to peek around the corner at the emotions that lay unattended to. In a sense, the non-ordinary reality we walk in is simply the landscape of emotions. Fear has taken over the thinking of so many these days and the skills to deal with emotions are being replaced by mind numbing entertainment and poor quality food, that we gorge ourselves on in hopes of receiving adequate nutrition and medicating those emotions we've forgotten how to process.

The landscape of music therapy is changing my friends. This is not the profession E. Thayer Gaston wrote about. We need to become more. The world needs us to become more. We need to be healers, and peacemakers and revealers of core truths and...emotional shamans.

I wonder if the Holy Grail of masters level entry will even be sufficient as the landscape continues to change?

Work very hard. Your clients/patients/communities deserve no less.

But remember that it doesn't come for free. 

Take care of yourself, or you won't be taking care of anyone else.