Keep A Little Something For Yourself

This blog post began with something I posted on Facebook today:

I've discovered that one of the things I like about working Saturdays is that there are less people around. My office is connected to the rec hall, which is often a busy place during the week.

For the last couple of weeks, on Saturday, I've shut the door to my office, gotten out a guitar, and I sing songs that I want to sing. I don't practice, I don't prep songs for patient use...I sing like no one is listening! I try things vocally that I wouldn't dare try otherwise...and I'm finding confidence I didn't know I had! But most importantly, I am doing something musically for myself. This is especially important for those of us that provide music for others.

#therapyforthetherapist

Happy Saturday!

One of my MT friends thought I should post that in a MT group on Facebook. As usual, I have more to say!

Let's face it...burnout is a very real possibility for music therapists. I don't know how many posts I've seen in forums requesting suggestions for avoiding burnout.

The simple answer is, keep a little something for yourself.

I'll explain.

Stay with me for a moment while I take what may seem like an odd turn...this is relevant, trust me.

I read, or heard an interview with an adult film star. The question was asked, "How do you keep your personal relationships special, considering the work you do?"

The film star replied, "I always keep one thing special that is just for me and my relationship partner. I keep that sacred and will not bring that to work."

I realized how much wisdom there is in that statement!

Others have talked about this concept when music therapists have asked about avoiding burnout. It's oft repeated advice, and I am reiterating it here. Keep something special about your musical self...keep something sacred to you, something that reminds you of why you are passionate about music.

Honestly, for me, it doesn't even have to be something that I keep just to myself.

The important thing is that I am creating the music for the sheer joy of doing it and because it's the music I want to make.

Today for example...one of the songs I was jamming out to was "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad" by Meatloaf.

I like the song...I can reminisce about the times I would listen to it in high school. My wife likes Meatloaf's music and she likes when I sing his music to her (although this song is not high on her favorites list due to the lyrics) so it reminds me of good times spent with my wife...especially important now because we are living apart due to work...and it's a song I can just lay into vocally...open up and pour all kinds of emotion into...let go and sing the hell out of it!

Would I use this song with patients? Of course I would! Keeping a little something for myself doesn't mean that I never share it with anyone else. This is not about hard boundaries… this is about nurturing my own musicality. That means keeping myself invested in my own musical expression so that facilitating musical experiences for others remains a passion and not simply a job.

I remember an experience one evening when I was taking neurologic music therapy training. To this day, it's one of the strangest things I've ever heard anyone say. A group of us had decided to get some dinner and then find a karaoke place. I don't normally do karaoke, but with a group of music therapists, I thought it would be fun!

So someone in our group asked another MT, a young woman, if she'd like to join us. She almost sneered and said, "That sounds like work, and I don't DO work outside of work."

I was shocked.

I mean, I thought it was a strange (almost hostile) response to a friendly invitation, but it didn't hit me until later how strange that sentiment was.

If that woman is still practicing music therapy, and she hasn't undergone a MAJOR attitude shift, then I fear for her clients.

We have a responsibility to those we serve to bring our absolute best every single day. Every day we use music to bring about meaningful change in the lives of our clients. We can't do that in an effective way if we hold bitterness or resentment within us. That young woman, somewhere on her journey, lost the point...completely.

Am I the happy music man every single day? I'll admit, that sometimes I need a break too. Some days I get home and realize I need a break from music, and that's okay. We all need time away. But I think about the energy behind that woman's words...it makes me feel sad. The passion was gone...the fire was almost out.

Maybe no one told that woman the advice I was given when I started working in medical music therapy.

People start working in the medical field because they want to help others. Always remember: you must take care of yourself, or else you won't be taking care of anyone else.

Maybe she didn't know.

She forgot that using music to heal is a sacred gift, not an occupational obligation. She lost touch with her music. She forgot to keep a little something for herself.

Music has power that science is just beginning explain. We've known since before recorded history that music has almost limitless power to affect us. Don't we, as harmonizers of the soul, deserve to tap into that power?

Every once in a while, find that little part of the sonorous realms that resonates with your spirit. Find that place that brings a smile to your face, joy and passion to your heart and peace to your mind.

When you find that space my friends, that's what you keep for yourself.

Follow Up: Response to a Disheartened Music Therapist

I wanted to write a quick follow up to Response to a Disheartened Music Therapist. People are talking about it.

The original post struck a nerve with a lot of music therapists. I think that post expressed what is on the mind of a lot of us...is this worth it? Can I make this work as a living? Is it supposed to be this difficult?

Some of the comments I've received illustrate just how resilient the "lifers" in this profession are. One person talked about being a lone music therapist in a rural area, and the obstacles she's had to get where she is today. She's made some enemies because of the high standards of service she was unwilling to compromise on. Networking,education, hard work...rinse, repeat. She's looking to the future, hiring people to continue the work she's been doing so it doesn't all just fade away when she's ready to retire. But she wonders, how she will convince someone to "sweat and suffer" (her words) for a couple of years in order to keep things going.

I wonder too.

This fast paced world, full of instant gratification does not seem well suited to the kind of patience and persistence it takes to develop a life as a private practice music therapist. My MT prof used to say "Music therapists are the happiest poor people on the world, because we love what we do, but we are not well paid for it."

Many other life paths offer a lot more money in lot less time.

I think, as do others, that the old paradigm needs to change...but that is a discussion for another time.

Advice another commenter had was to find another discipline that can complement music therapy skills and develop that quickly. It's not uncommon these days for MT's to pick up credentials for counseling, transpersonal psychology, social work...the list goes on.

This MT found it works better for her to not emphasize the music aspect of the therapeutic work that she does. Let's face it...many people hear "music therapy" and expect to sit around a campfire with a bunch of hippies, holding hands and singing Kum Ba Yah.

Just last week when I introduced myself to a group as a music therapist, one patient said, "Oh, I'm not here to be entertained."

Without pause I said, "Good. I'm not here to entertain you."

I am discovering that music therapy is much easier to understand in an experiential vein than in a philosophical one. If I try to explain a drum circle or song lyric analysis before we try it, eyes glaze over and attention wanders.

If instead I say, "we're going to play some drums...you already know what you need to know to do it" and then start playing, I start to see the smiles and hear the laughter. Later, I might explain how a group listened to each other and supported each other in a process, but the group already knows this on some level.

This is not an easy life, but it is a good life.

Music therapists get very excited over seemingly small things. I still delight in the memory of somebody I worked with who, after working with them for over a year, one day in session, they spontaneously said my name. Before that, I was always referred to as "music." These things are very exciting for us! Those breakthrough moments that remind us of why we (sometimes) sweat and suffer.

It is a hard sell..."come join our profession! You'll probably never make much money, you'll always have to justify everything you do, you'll constantly have to educate others, you may forever be underpaid, undervalued and underappreciated...but if this is in your soul...you'll never find happiness anywhere else."

All the hard work and frustration and tears (mostly with our clients) and challenges...the gut wrenching, joyful, emotional roller coaster...is it worth it?

It's certainly not a way of life for everyone.

But, yeah. It's worth it.

Responsibility on My Spiritual Path

I am blessed that my professional work and my spiritual work are so intertwined right now. Every day, I get hundreds of years of combined life experience and wisdom, shared freely with me. I have learned more about the human condition in the last few weeks than I ever have in a classroom. I also get to witness hope, determination and perseverance through sometimes incredible odds. As with all things in this world, balance must be maintained. There is a price to be paid for this extraordinary gift I receive.

I also bear witness, daily, to the depths of human suffering. Substance abuse, shattered lives, broken relationships, self loathing...suicidal ideation...

Somedays, it can be overwhelming. Somedays I end up in my office, or in my car at the end of the day, and I cry.

I cry, not for myself, but for those I work with every day. I cry because bad things happen to good people. I cry because sometimes, good people make bad choices, again and again. I cry because all I can offer is the wisdom I have been entrusting with, the knowledge I have gained and a compassionate heart, open to the joys and suffering of those I serve...and I cry because sometimes that is not enough.

So many of us in service to others start our journey with an enthusiastic and fearless, "I can save the world!" attitude. We tell ourselves that yes, others have tried to save the world, but I am different! I am special! I can actually do it!

Sooner or later, we realize there is only so much each of us can do. We realize that our good, heart centered intentions can only stretch so far. We realize, that no matter how enthusiastic and compassionate and service oriented we are, some days we end up in the car crying.

But do not let yourself be disheartened my friends.

We can create positive change within our communities. That may mean our community of residence, our spiritual community, our social or peer community. Each act of kindness, each act of compassion, each time we smile at a stranger, counts.

Put your passion, and your compassion and your humble servitude into each day, and most days you will notice the subtle shift. Energy becomes lighter, people frown a bit less, moods improve.

Some days you will cry. Most days, you will say to yourself, "Today, I lived in a good way."

For me, I chose my profession. I chose to be a music therapist and a teacher. I did not, however, choose my spiritual path. It chose me long ago, but it was with the speed of a giant sequoia, or a mountain, that I answered the call. Though I did not choose the path, I accept the responsibility of what it means to walk that path. At times, that means taking on the suffering of individuals, or my community (in all its forms), so the suffering is shared. The goal is to transmute the suffering into some measure of peace. The burden is shared and thus lessened.

I am learning just how difficult this can be, but I am also learning how to take care of myself so I can better serve others. This is my responsibility, and I will humbly serve with each breath in this lifetime.

Some days I cry, but as a valued teacher once said, this is long, long, long work that we do.

So I try to live each day in a good way, and try to remember that this is not about me...this is about service to others.

Aho.

Small Joys

One reason I enjoy working with people is the small joys they bring to my life. This often happens by people just being themselves. I remember a story my fellow music therapy intern, Kas, told me about one of our residents when we were interns. This endearing woman, 104 at the time if I remember correctly, was quirky with her sense of humor. Kas was working with her one day and said, "Oh, I think it's time to go to dinner."

This sweet woman replied, "Oh good! I'm so hungry I could eat a raw dog!"

I still laugh about that a decade later...and I get strange looks every time I say it out of context. Guess it sounds different coming from me!

Today I had another one of those experiences. Simple things that brighten my day.

Keep in mind I am currently working as a teacher of the visually impaired. Often times this means the kids I work with have more going on than just the visual impairment.

In one of my classrooms, I see two students, a boy and a girl.  The boy I am working with has developmental issues as well as his visual impairment. He's a bit of a character without trying to be. I've told his teacher on more than one occasion that I can envision this boy in about 60 years, telling stories in a rocking chair on the back porch. His Southern accent and way of phrasing things is well suited to this future vision I have. For example, he might say something like "I told him to put that in the garbage. I did. I told him."

He will also repeat phrases he has heard, or snipets of things that have happened around him. Last week, one of the phrases he kept repeating was, "They put it in the back of the truck." When I asked him what they put in the back of the truck, often he would repeat, "They put it in the back of the truck." Occasionally when I would press him to discover what he was referring to, he'd pause, as if trying to locate the information I was asking for, and then finally say, "They put it in the back of the truck. They did!"

I jokingly mentioned to his teacher and para educator that I was going to lose sleep over not knowing what they put in the back of the truck.

Today, I started by working with the girl, who sits on one side of the classroom (the boy sits on the other side of the classroom).

The boy noticed I was there and was interacting with me...exchanging a few words here and there while I was working with the girl.

When I moved my chair over to his table to start working with him, the first thing he said to me was, "They put it in the back of the truck."

I laughed, heartily!

People are sometimes confused when I tell them that music therapists (and TVI's) get excited about small things. When one of my students with severe speech delays said my name (after a year), I was glowing for months!

Today, I told this particular student that he made my day.

But I still don't know what they put in the back of the truck!

Spiritual Truth is Universal

Not long ago, I began an new job. The job placed me somewhere I NEVER thought I'd live...Florida. My Midwestern friends might think that statement is crazy, especially considering the very bizarre weather this year, but I figure sunny and warm, every single day will get old eventually.

Anyway, I've met some great people working for a very large school district here in Florida. I am an itinerant teacher for the visually impaired, and I'm getting to know seventeen kids at 8 different schools, plus school faculty and staff.

Recently, I went to one of my new schools to meet a couple of my students who were absent the day I received a tour. I found the appropriate portable building and knocked on the door. Classroom doors are always locked after Sandy Hook.

I was met at the door by a robust black woman. I introduced myself and told her the name of the student I was looking for. She told me everyone was at recess and that she would help me find who I was looking for.

As we began to walk, she said in a dramatic voice, "Lord have mercy it's gettin' hot!" She then launched into a soliloquy the like I have rarely heard. Though I cannot remember her exact words she began with an admission that so many times she will notice the heat, but she should be giving thanks to God for the grass and the flowers and all the beautiful things. She should acknowledge her healthy and healthy children and good food to eat and a breeze to cool her on these hot days.

My entire being started to tingle.

I knew that this woman was tapped in to universal truth. I was hearing spiritual woman from the mouth of a spiritual being...and it was amazing!

I was so stunned at the blessing I was receiving, all I could do was acknowledge her words with a "mmm hmm" here and a "yes m'am" there, like I was bearing witness during a Southern Baptist worship service.

The kicker?

I am most DEFINITELY not Christian.

I am not Christian, and yet I was blessed with a spiritual experience in the words of this Christian woman.

The sure fire way I know, is the tingles. Long ago, someone shared the idea with me that when you feel tingles all over your body in such a manner, that you are experience truth guided by the spiritual realm. I call them "truth tingles." This is not to be confused with the tingles one feels at times when listening to music.

People ask me if I'm religious. I tell them I am spiritual, not religious.

I've experienced truth tingles in different settings with people of different beliefs. I experienced them when talking with a Navajo herbalist, I experienced them when listening to someone describing a past life we lived together with magic and faeries and Atlantis, and I experienced them listening to this humble Christian woman's message of gratitude.

For many years now, I've believed that spiritual beliefs matter less than what a person holds within them.

When I was leaving my first music therapy job, one of the residents of the retirement community I was working at met me in the hall. She often played piano at the weekly hymn sings that was popular with some of the residents. She said to me, "We're going to miss you around here. You're a good Christian."

I thanked her graciously for the kind words, and we parted.

I chuckled to myself later. She assumed that because of the kindness, caring and respect I came to work with every day, I must be like her...I must be Christian.

Let's face it...humans are natural sorters. We like to classify things, and sort them and know where we fit in. Often we try to find others like ourselves...safety in numbers...and it's nice to have friends on this journey.

This comes up now with a post a fellow music therapist made recently. She explored the concept of being a Christian music therapist, or a music therapist who practices music therapy.

I read the post, and read some of the comments about the post. I've had a lot of strong opinions about various aspects of her post, but I guess it all boils down to "who cares?"

Yes, music therapy is a healing art. It is an allied health profession. Keyword being: profession. Does that mean I don't bring my own life experience as a human and spiritual being to my music therapy practice? Of course not! Do I go looking for people like me as part of my practice? Yes! They're called human beings!

In a therapeutic relationship, it is very important to be authentic. When a client inquires about my spiritual beliefs, as some are inclined to do, I will be honest, but not in depth. I will honestly answer questions without being forward with my beliefs.

My last full time MT gig was in a small rural hospital...lots and lots of sweet elderly Christians were patients there. I'll admit something...I got street cred with some of them when they asked me of I go to church and I said that I do. If they asked where, I would tell them it is a Unitarian Universalist church. If they asked me more, I would explain that it's a church where people of many beliefs attend: Christian, Pagan, Buddhist, Atheist, Humanist etc.

I've shared sacred and secular music with clients, from different religions or from the pop charts. I've sung "Jesus Loves Me" and "Amazing Grace" at the bedside of people nearing the end of life, with tears in my eyes, as well as the eyes of their loved ones.

The point is that my spiritual beliefs, or even lack thereof are irrelevant in the therapeutic relationship. I can bring healing work to my clients without bringing doctrine. I speak I universal truth, as opposed to religion specific truth. In a hospital, when people have lived a long time, and have become sick, sometimes these big questions of life and death come up. It doesn't mean I can't address those things. It means my approach is different. I might share with someone a specific belief from Native American or Hindu wisdom, and let the client make their own connections. I may share that belief and I may not, but it doesn't make the sharing of the wisdom any less sincere.

We find common ground in the "namaste" concept. "The light in me, salutes the light in you." I have always taken this to mean when we strip away all the external, all the impermanent things, we're all manifestations of the universal truth...whether we call that truth God, Jesus, Great Spirit, Goddess, Buddha, Allah...whatever.

Let's meet in that place...where we can REALLY be ourselves.

I don't go to businesses that have a Jesus fish next to their business name. I don't solicit businesses that say "American Owned" either. When I am seeking professional services, I am more concerned with the quality of the services and the ethics in the business practice. Never has the thought occurred to me to walk into a place and say "Hey, do you practice Santeria? You do? Great! I'm getting my oil changed HERE!"

I don't literally or figuratively knock on anyone's door wanting to talk about my beliefs, and I expect the same courtesy from other professionals. I don't care if the massage therapist is tracing Sanskrit on my back...as long as that sore spot near my shoulder gets addressed.

A very wise music therapist said, "You start where people are, and go from there."

When the client is leading the session, sometimes universal truth is shared and sometimes it is not. I learned long ago that when I am the therapist, it's not about me...it's about the client.

If we pay attention to the universal wisdom around us, we will see that it is indeed manifesting everywhere...even during recess in a hot day in Florida.

Margaritaville Radio

Every time I hear a Jimmy Buffett song, I think of my beloved C and our honeymoon. Margaritaville Radio on satellite became the soundtrack of our honeymoon. We got married on Wisconsin and drove to Florida to depart for our cruise to the Bahamas. We listened to Jimmy's music the whole way there and the whole way back.

For all intents and purposes, my wife introduced me to Jimmy Buffett's music. Sure, in tenth grade English we did a lyric analysis of "Margaritaville" and I had heard some of his music off and on over the years, but it was C that really showed me how fun it is to be a Parrot Head. Through her own enjoyment of the music, I came to love it as well.

Tonight, as "Margaritaville" played on the local radio station, I instantly began smiling with fond memories of that blessed time in our lives.

Tomorrow, I leave New Mexico to move to Florida for a few months. I realized as the song was playing how things are returning to where they began in a way.

With my new assignment, my contract ends two days before our first wedding anniversary. Instead of spending our anniversary in Branson, Missouri, somewhere neither of us had been to, we will spend a few days at a beach resort and a few days in The Keys.

We've spent most of our first year living apart, and though we will spend most of our second year living apart as well, it seems like we will begin again, where we began a year ago.

It's so fitting.

And you'd better believe Jimmy Buffett will be playing.

Lessons in Letting Go

I have been given a rare opportunity: I have been working with my replacement at work for the last couple of weeks. This sort of thing of thing does happen of course, but I was pleasantly surprised when I learned this was to be the case for me. Yesterday I realized that I was being given precious gifts in this transition to a new job, new living situation and new state to explore. I was being given lessons in how to let go of things.

Historically I have had the mindset "Never forget what they did to you" (whoever they are). Eckhart Tolle says "All things are small things because all things are transient." Everything changes...this is the nature of the Universe. When we choose to hold on to things, we hold ourselves back.

Eckhart relates a story of two monks walking on a long journey. It had been raining and the road was very muddy. The walking by a young woman who was trying to cross the road, but the mud would have ruined her beautiful silk kimono. One of the monks immediately picked up the young woman and carried her to the other side. Five hours later, the other monk couldn't stand it anymore. He said to the first monk, "Why did you pick her up and carry her across the road? You know we monks aren't supposed to do things like that!"

The first monk said, "I put the girl down hours ago. Are you still carrying her?"

When I first found out that the school district I am working for was ending my contract, I was told they hired someone within the district. The full implications did not sink in for me right away. After all, if there was someone in the district with credentials to do my job, why hire me through a staffing agency?

As I got to know my replacement, it quickly became clear that not only was she not already employed by the district, but she had been living in another state.

A few days ago, when I was talking to my recruiter at the staffing agency and I asked her if midyear transitions like this were unusual. She told me that every once in a while a district will hire somebody from within for a staffed position. I confirmed that the agency had been told this new hire was from within district and then corrected what my recruiter had been told. I said, "I don't know how the contract with the district works, under what circumstances they can break the contract, or what, if anything you want to do with this information, but the person taking over my position was definitely not already in the district."

My recruiter sounded thoughtful, and thanked me for the information...and then I let it go.

It is not my responsibility to police the circumstances under which my move is occurring, so I let it go.

Another opportunity for this lesson came last week. I had a parent call me, informing me she had not received information from an ophthalmologist's office regarding an appointment I had made for her daughter. She asked if I told the office to mail the information to the town I live in, to an address I was unfamiliar with. I informed this parent that I had given the office the address that was listed in the school records, an address in another town.

"Oh, we don't get mail there" she told me plainly.

Frustration arose in me quickly. I called the ophthalmologist's office and asked them to send the same information to the new address I had been given. The office is three hours away, so this was not a simple case of running to the office to pick up the paperwork.

A few days later, I got a call from a teacher who was meeting with the parent. The parent was concerned because she has still not received the information, and she did not know any of the details of the appointment. I informed the teacher that I sent the parent a letter detailing the appointment...I sent it to the address that does NOT receive mail.

I had gotten myself pretty worked up by this time. I worked very are to make arrangements for the appointment and ensured clear and concise information was communicated, and things were falling apart!

What good does it do me to hold onto this frustration? I have done my best to make this situation easy for this parent, and I need to rest assured I have given my best effort, and let go of the outcome.

Don't let myself be held fast by a situation I cannot control...let it go.

Yesterday I noticed I was very anxious most of the day. There is still a lot of things that I need to show my replacement how to do, and make sure she is as prepared as possible when I leave.

Most of the day, I was edgy and irritable, because things weren't happening fast enough, and as of today, I have two days left to impart the whole of my knowledge about this district and this caseload.

Then, like a lightning bolt, it hit me!

I didn't have anyone to guide me when I started in this position. One might think some basic training in the software used by the district would be in order, policies, etc... I had none of it. I had to figure it out on my own. I have been laying a solid foundation for my replacement to jump in and work with the kids. Why, when I am moving across the country, would I hold on to these feelings like I will never show her everything I want her to know before I go?

She will be just fine. She will do a good job with the kids, and she will figure things out.

I need to let go.

I am often surprised with the ways I am blessed with the lessons I learn. With all the opportunities to learn this lesson recently, it seems to be a pretty important one for me.

I worry that I may have missed other lessons recently that are just important because I wasn't paying attention, but I need to let go of that too.

Unfolding of a Spiritual Journey

The funny thing about spiritual journeys is that sometimes you don't realize you' re in the midst of them. Other times, if you pay attention, you are acutely aware of the spiritual significance of your path. I knew almost immediately when I was hired for a job in New Mexico, that is was because a significant spiritual journey was in the works for me. It was almost like Great Spirit looked upon me and thought, "He's stuck...he's just not getting it...he needs to be somewhere else."

They say that when something is meant to be, the steps to get there will seem nearly effortless. Things will fall into place as the Universe rises to support the endeavor before you. The path to that point may be full of challenges, but when it's time, you will be amazed how easy everything seems!

The time between my application with a staffing agency until I accepted the position in New Mexico was no more than 3 or 4 days...I had been out of work for fourteen months.

"Pay attention!" my mind said..."Something big is about to happen!"

Now, I'll let you in on a little secret...I have spirit guides that speak to me, when I am tapped in enough to listen.

I was hesitant to share this detail with the world...once when a psychiatrist asked me if I heard voices that no one else hears, I truthfully said that I did...I was placed on anti-psychotics.

I learned that it is important to add, in similar situations, that the voices are consistent with the patient's spiritual beliefs.

My spirit guides have a collective nickname, and I think it's amusing how the nickname came about. While driving with C one day, we were having a conversation heavily influenced by our spirit guides. It seems my guides have a rather snarky sense of humor on the whole. I was communicating exactly what I was experiencing, and a lot of good natured teasing was coming through. At one point, C made a comment about my guides being like my own personal peanut gallery. What popped into my head immediately was, "Cashew. Cashew Gallery."

I immediately started laughing for two reasons: 1. I was eating cashews at the time (one of my favorite snacks) and 2. That is exactly the type of comment I would make.

From that moment on, my spirit guides have been referred to as "The Cashews."

Almost two years ago, I had a powerful experience during a workshop with a shaman at a holistic learning conference. After the session, I spoke with the shaman and I told him I was strongly drawn to follow a shaman's path. He smiled, hugged me and said, "Welcome home."

I was told if I was meant to travel the path of a shaman, I would find a teacher when the time was right.

When I learned I was moving to New Mexico, the Cashews kept telling me, "You're on the right path. You will find a teacher."

A few short weeks after moving to the Southwest, I went to the Navajo Nation Fair in Window Rock, Arizona. On the way, I was wandering in the general direction of Window Rock and the road took me over a beautiful mountain. As I descended the other side, I happened upon a tiny waterfall. I stopped to enjoy the cold, fresh water and offer a prayer of thanks for the beautiful day, and to ask to be guided to a teacher. The message again resonated in my soul: "You will find a teacher."

As I started walking around the vendor booths at the fair, I noticed that several vendors were selling similar things. I saw bags of corn kernels, yellow and white, occasionally blue, as well as bags of corn meal. I was confused by the bags of what appeared to be evergreen needles at the booths. A few vendors were selling carved lengths of wood, not quite as big around as the business end of a Louisville Slugger.

I was feeling quite out of place, convinced I was the only white guy at the fair (which I later discovered was not true) but finally I asked a man who was examining the carved shafts of wood what they were used for. He told me the end was lit on fire and then used to keep burning whatever was being smoked during a ceremony, tobacco, marijuana, whatever.

Feeling thankful for his thorough explanation, I decided to ask what the evergreen needles, which I now noticed were labelled "cedar" and "flat leaf cedar" were used for. The man kindly explained that they are used for prayer. The needles are burned and the pleasing aroma is used to clear away negative energy. I thanked the man and continued to browse.

At another booth, I decided to buy a small medicine bag. I asked the woman at the booth what the bags of corn I saw everywhere were used for. "Prayer"she replied. White corn for men and yellow corn for women. She directed me to the man at the next booth who was selling bags of corn. As I was paying for the corn, I asked the man what the corn meal was used for. His answer was...prayer. I bought some corn meal as well.

I had landed in a highly spiritual part of the country...everything was sacred!

As I continued to browse, I came upon a Navajo woman who was selling herbs, her husband, the best medicine bags I had ever seen.

She had many jars of Navajo herbs and as I read their uses, I saw one that claimed to lower blood sugar. As a loosely controlled diabetic, I decided to buy some. I talked with the woman for a while and eventually asked her if she ever taught what she knows about herbs. She said her sister taught sometimes but she didn't really. I thanked her and went on my way. (I later discovered the herb she sold me was very powerful and immediately improved my blood sugar levels).

I was somewhat disappointed, because I thought for sure that this woman was the teacher the Cashews assured me I would find. All of a sudden, a thought struck me and I laughed out loud (not LOLed). I had been blessed with MANY teachers that day!

My instincts told me to go back and talk to the herbalist again.

Something had been weighing heavily on my mind...I asked her what she had to help anxiety. What do you think her answer was?

Prayer.

That sparked the beginning of a friendship that was mutually beneficial. I found out that the herbalist and her husband vended regularly at a market in Gallup, NM, two hours from where I was living, though they lived near Flagstaff, AZ.

I told them I would see them soon, and I did.

Over the next few months, I spent hours talking with them about herbs, healing, white culture and indigenous culture. I learned a lot from them and they learned a lot from me. She told me they really enjoyed having my perspective on life, the history between our people and the current state of spirituality in the world.

The last time I saw them, her husband agreed to teach me how he makes his medicine bags.

I fear I may never learn.

Today may be my last chance to ever see my friends, and they have not been vending during the winter months.

You see, my spiritual journey in New Mexico is nearly complete.

It seems I have learned what I came here to learn, and now it is time for me to learn elsewhere.

Through an unexpected turn of events, the school district I have been working for hired someone directly for my position and ended their contract with my staffing agency. In less than a week, I will move to Jacksonville, Florida to finish the school year.

I have learned so much during my time in New Mexico. I have complete faith that I am being led to the place I need to go to continue this spiritual journey.

I will be away from C and my children for a while longer, but it seems I am meant to continue this journey on my own for now.

I find comfort in the knowledge that I will be close to a childhood friend I have not seen much in recent years and close to my mother in law...many lessons to learn from her :)

Pay attention to the lessons in front of you. Not everyone needs to traipse around the country to engage their spiritual journey. Every journey is a spiritual journey. Think of the wisdom contained in taking care of a sick child, showing kindness to a stray animal or stepping forward as an agent of positive change in your community. One moment of fully conscious awareness will do more for the evolution of your spiritual journey than you can imagine.

Whether your path leads you into the depths of your soul, or to Jacksonville, Florida, stay alert to the power of each moment.

Be. Here. Now.

Every Day is a New Day

Today on my morning drive, I was noticing the extraordinary beauty of the landscape. I wondered if I had just been oblivious to it lately or if today was really exceptional for some reason. The thought entered my mind "It's a new day."

I was immediately reminded of that scene in Sister Act 2 where Whoopi Goldberg is preaching to her students about the fact that it was a new day.

Yesterday, significant things happened for both me and my wife in our respective lives. I was feeling so blessed that each of us are manifesting things to move our individual lives and thus our life together in the direction we desire.

With a joyful sigh, I thought, "It's a new day."

My reverie was gently broken by a thought somewhere way in the back of my mind... every day is a new day.

Yes! How could I have been so asleep? So mind identified? EVERY day is a new day!

When we ground ourselves in the present moment, each moment is new and each moment is an opportunity for awakening.

The old adage "SSDD, Same Shit Different Day" is a creation of the ego. This keeps us mind identified and unconscious.

My still mind identified outlook on life may be different today because of news from yesterday, but the essence of who I am has not changed.

Though our life situations may have changed, my wife and I are still the same physical forms embodying the universal consciousness as we were yesterday, last year or at the moment of our births into this lifetime.

Feeling so blessed for these brief moments of satori!

Every day is a new day...with countless opportunities to live right here, right now!

Screw The Rules

How many of you out there remember when MTV still had M? Martha Quinn, Headbangers Ball, Top 20 Video Countdown...the good old days.

Personally I think the downturn happened when The Real World ushered in the age of "reality" television.

I remember back in those glory days of music television, one commercial that had a profound effect on me. So profound that I memorized the monologue spoken during the commercial. Picture a young man with a basketball looking pensive...I'll lay it out for you:

You know, you try to figure it out... Either you're exactly the same as everyone else Which is really boring Or you're so totally out there that you've got nothing in common with anyone Which is scary as hell. But there ought to be at least some way to find out the rules

(insert dramatic pause here)

Screw the rules.

(cue MTV guitar vamp)

This really spoke to me in my youth.

(still does, although I believe my perspective has matured)

I grew up in a small town...I was a bit of a loner. I liked sci-fi, I had the only Tony Hawk skateboard in town. I was one of the "weird" kids in my class of 46. I was one of the two kids in my senior class voted "class revolutionary."

In junior high, for a writing assignment, we had to choose a life motto, and discuss why we chose it...mine was "Create a disturbance." Even back then, I was of the mindset that people should unapologetically make their mark on this world. Of course that has gotten me into trouble occasionally...I figured out that I tend to be a boat rocker...with authority issues.

I am learning slowly that I can stay true to my disturbance creating nature without jeopardizing steady employment.

I remember the realization in college that in some cases, I truly feel that the rules don't apply to me. Whether this is leftover energy from the "screw the rules" mentality or something else, I don't know.

I also remember the professor of my first class as a music major. He was a funny little man who was a bassoon player. After a class where we had been talking about musical form and compositional techniques, I told him, "When I write music, I want to break the rules!"

He very simply said, "You have to learn the rules before you can break them."

It would be many years before I understood the wisdom in his words.

But I think the MTV commercial meaning of "screw the rules" is not simply a call to general defiance and disorderly conduct. I believe there is a deeper meaning to be found when one delves into the essence of the statement.

Part of it has come from the spiritual and societal awakenings that began in the 1960's. During that time, social constructs were questioned and many experiments began...remnants of those experiments can still be found today...commune anyone?

We see other throwbacks to those days as well...communities of free thinkers, co-ops of all sorts...hey, tie dye has become mainstream!

Here's the thing about the human mind...it LOVES to sort and order things. This was an evolutionary necessity. Imagine yourself as a hunter/gatherer...human consciousness is just developing and the world is a tough place to survive in. The evolving mind learns to identify and categorize things quickly: food, water, danger, predator, prey. This was necessary for the survival of our species.

Fast forward tens of thousands of years...now, the mind categorizes things, but the ego has gotten involved. Now, most of us categorize and judge things.

To say that an apple-tini is a beverage, or to further categorize, an alcoholic beverage is a mind function. Apple-tini is in the category of beverage, sub-category alcohol. THAT is the mind at work.

The ego comes along and says "Apple-tinis are girly drinks." (Thank you Dr. John Dorian!) The ego judges what the mind has categorized.

So when the youth in the 60's started examining the capitalist driven social structures of their parents and rejected those structures...the structures were judged "bad."

The adults of the era, used to conformity and established structure saw the long hair, free love, mind altering drug using counter culture as "bad."

The term "hippy" could have a good or bad connotation depending on which circles you were in.

Let me be clear that my perspective on this is speculation and interpretation. I was born in the early 1970's, so this hindsight extends beyond my own life time.

But by creating new standards of behavior, new rules were established while throwing out the old rules. A paradox was created.

Subcultures sprang up in multitudes after the 60's; each with their own rules.

One character we can look at for an example of transcending these rule governed subcultures is Ferris Bueller.

The 1986 film Ferris Bueller's Day Off is the story of a unique high school student who decides to take a day off from school and the comedic efforts of the principal to catch him.

The charisma of Ferris Bueller was not bound by any one subculture. Grace, the school secretary, puts the subculture transcendence of Ferris like this:

Oh, he's very popular Ed. The sportos, the motor heads, geeks, sluts, bloods, wastoids, dweebies, dickheads...they all adore him. They think he's a righteous dude.

Ferris is a singularity in that he is not bound by the rules or definitions of any one subculture.

Then we consider one of my refrigerator magnets...it says "You non-conformists are all the same."

As we raise the banner of non-conformity with "Screw the Rules!" as our call to action, we look around and see that everyone is doing the non-conformist thing. Similarly to the person who says "I'm crazy", isn't, the person who identifies as "non-conformist", isn't.

I had an epiphany in the early 90's when "Alternative" music was all the rage. I thought, "If alternative music has become popular and mainstream...then what music truly is alternative?

A few weeks ago, as I was contemplating my own journey, and the efforts of someone to categorize me, I came up with a quote:

I am not confined by anyone's definitions. Your limitations do not apply to me.

That's my mature perspective on "screw the rules."

I will still love that MTV commercial though.

I think what we are experiencing in the midst of The Shift, post end of the Mayan calendar, is not a paradigm shift, but the end of the paradigm itself.

Part of that is thanks to the ease with which information can be shared globally. But as a human culture, we are growing in ways never before seen on the planet. In the music therapy profession, there are some names that in my opinion have reached legendary status: Alicia Clair, Deforia Lane, Barry Bernstein and Connie Tomaino to name a few. They were pioneering research and developing best practice when music therapy was starting to take shape as a profession. They are still out there doing it! (Barry is no longer with us).

Now we have music therapists who are redefining the profession.

They are using social media and technology to reach a wider audience to support each other, educate and even provide services.

This group is not confined by the old definitions, not confined by limitations.

Technology is providing many of us the means to express our own unique perspective on the world, whether that is through app development, blogging, Skype music therapy sessions...the list is endless.

Our planet wide spiritual awakening is bringing us to a time where modern technology and ancient wisdom are learning to co-exist in ways never dreamed of before.

My advice to you my friends?

Remember that the paradigms no longer exist...create your own path.

While you're at it, create a disturbance.

Be undefinable...be limitless, and of course,

Screw the rules.

Life's Ironies (and why sometimes you just have to laugh your ass off)

The Law of Attraction states that whatever we put out into the Universe, we draw towards ourselves. I believe this to be true...most of the time. You see, the Universe has a quirky sense of humor, and sometimes our lives embody the very definition of "irony" itself.

As you may have guessed, I have examples.

I remember in high school one evening I was at a youth group meeting and we were planning a trip to a nearby ski slope. Several of us, including me had never been skiing before and we looked forward to the new experience. When we decided on a date, I realized it was the weekend before the state debate tournament that I was competing in.

I offhandedly said, "With my luck, I'll break my arm the week before the state debate tournament!"

A friend of mine, T, said in an exaggerated tone, "You won't break your arm!"

His tone of voice and facial expression indicated that he thought I was being ridiculous to even suggest such a thing.

The night of our trip came and we were all in high spirits. T and one or two of our other friends rode with me to the slope, only 15 miles from our home town.

The first timers like me started out hesitantly on the bunny slope, and eventually, as confidence increased, most of tried other slopes.

Part way through the night, one of my friends found me and said I should go to the lodge...T was hurt.

When I found him, some of the youth group leaders were with him...he was cradling his arm.

I asked him what happened. He told me he had been talking to a girl (schmoozer that he was), and when the conversation ended, he started to walk away from her, still attached to his skis. What he didn't realize is that his skis were crossed in back and it just so happened that the foot he picked up first was was attached to the ski on the bottom. He lost his balance, and tried to catch himself.

Later, x-rays showed that T had on fact, broken his arm.

Several years ago, when my girls were still young, before my son was born, my first wife and I rented a small house near a small diner. One summer day, I decided it would be a good idea to cut down a small tree that was growing behind the gas meter. I had recently purchased a folding camp saw and thought I would try it out. After I removed the sapling sized tree, I sat cross legged in the yard to trimming it down to a size that would be good kindling for our fire bowl.

Now to say that this wee sapling was wet would be an understatement. As I was trimming it, moisture would occasionally drip from the cuts.

This was a comfortably warm summer day, and I sat, cross legged on the yard, wearing shorts, and trimming this green, green sapling.

I was making my last cut, and let me tell you, that last little bit of bark did not want to let go.

I could not believe how this tiny strip of bark was resisting the massive serrated teeth of the camp saw!

Feeling tired and frustrated, and determined to not be bested by this sapling, I gave that saw one good hard yank...and the saw easily went through the green bark...as well as my right thigh.

The sharp pain surprised me, I immediately dropped the saw and surveyed the damage to my leg. For some reason, still unbeknownst to me, I pulled apart the two sides of the wound to get a better look. To my amazement, there was no blood! Strangely enough though, I was quite sure I was seeing a part of the inside of my leg I had never seen before. It was almost as if my body was shocked enough by what happened that it forgot what to do. Moments later, the blood started flowing. I put pressure on the wound, and hobbled into house, and told my wife "Go be with the girls, they're still outside. I cut myself with the camp saw."

My wife looked at me, looked at the blood trickling down my leg, gave me a blank look and while still blankly looking me in the eyes said into the phone receiver she was holding, "I'll call you back...I have to go."

She stood up, shook her head, mumbled "Idiot" under her breath and went to find the girls.

In short order I figured out that the bleeding wasn't going to stop on its own and suggested my wife drive me to urgent care. After arguing that she should make me drive myself because I was stupid enough to cut myself with a saw, she relented and we were on our way.

The doctor said I had cut through about four layers of skin. One tetanus booster and four stitches later, I was released.

Less than two weeks before, I taught a summer school lesson to a group of visually impaired kids about the safe use of kitchen knives.

I emphasized ad naseum that when using sharp blades, one should ALWAYS think "If this blade slips, what part of my body could get cut?" and then get that body part out of the way.

Last Friday, I was in the midst of my morning routine before going to work. As I was brushing my teeth, I was cagily aware that my tea tree oil toothpaste, with baking soda, didn't feel the same in my mouth as it usually did. Usually I notice a gently scrubbing sensation on my teeth from the baking soda, and the overall texture was unusual. I then became aware that the taste of the toothpaste was strange. As I spit the excess into the sink, I noticed the toothpaste was not the usual pure white color...I thought my gums were bleeding. I glanced down to the left side of the sink to where the tube of toothpaste lay and I was trying to process what was going on. Suddenly I realized I hadn't picked up the tube of toothpaste from the left side of the sink...I picked up the tube from the right side of the sink, put the contents on my toothbrush and set the tube back down on the right side.

I picked up the tube from the right side of the sink to confirm the thought that had just hit me like a freight train...I was brushing my teeth...with diaper cream.

I started hacking and spitting and rinsing my mouth. I desperately clawed at my tongue with my tongue scraper...interestingly enough, diaper cream tends to lock itself into every nook and cranny of the human tongue, scraper or not.

I found my travel toothbrush, loaded it with actual toothpaste and desperately pleaded with the tea tree oil to take away the taste.

Before too many questions surface about why a father who's school age kids live halfway across the country has diaper cream in his bathroom let me say: "deodorant reaction" and "rash."

Here's the kicker...I had been listening to Eckhart Tolle's audiobook version of A New Earth and was regaling my wife with tales of how I was finding new meaning in his teachings about present moment awareness and giving full attention to even the most mundane tasks.

I told my wife this story today when she was on a road trip with my step daughter and she laughed so hard she was afraid she would not make it to the next rest area.

When we are in the midst of life experiences, we experience pain, discomfort...even suffering. Eventually though, the bones knit, the stitches are removed and the zinc oxide taste fades. We can't choose what happens to us, but we can choose how we respond to what happens.

I have a lot of Kokopeli and Coyote trickster energy in me. I can appreciate a good "gotcha" even when it happens to me. So when the Universe decides to throw an irony at us, sooner or later, I'll be laughing my ass off!

Journal Entry

1924 Starbucks, Farmington, NM 25 January 2013

I almost burst into tears at Natural Grocers tonight.

It's become somewhat of a tradition for me to stop there after my chiropractor appointments on Fridays after work. Tonight I needed soap. My bar of Dr. Bronner's lavender is almost gone. Tonight I decided to try something new and ended up with an olive oil soap with Shea butter, argan oil and Dead Sea salt.

I realized something as I was standing in the corner that has soaps, incense, essential oils and salt lamps...I find great comfort in visiting that place with all the many wonderful and sometimes hideous smells. That's not a new realization...a couple of months ago I noticed I was lingering in that section of the store, smelling different soaps and oils and finding that practice very soothing. The candles are there too, some scented, some unscented. I look at the beeswax ones and the palm wax, smelling the ones that sound interesting.

I figured out that scent has amazing soothing and healing capabilities for me. Most of the people there have stopped asking me if I need help finding anything...guess they're used to my lingering. I have to wonder if they talk about "that guy that always comes in and smells stuff."

Tonight for some reason, it hit me... suddenly I felt very, very lonely. I miss Chelley and the kids...and now the tears finally start flowing.

It's been less than a week since I've seen them, but in a way that makes things that much harder. Had so much fun cooking together...just being together...then I come back to this place...alone.

The simple things really are what I miss...coaching the kids on how to cut potatoes for mashing, cuddling and joking with them, resting my hand on Chelley's thigh as she drives us somewhere...

All these thoughts hit me at once as I stood with the soap and candles and lotion and I wanted to cry. I know I have important work to do here...work I can't do around others. It's a vision quest of sorts and I have already learned and grown so much. Eckhart would chide me for not staying in the present moment...I'm already planning my return to the Midwest in four months.

So I cling to the things that I find comfort in...just like I clung to that bar of soap when I started feeling so sad. It's almost like the bar of soap was an anchor point for me...something to remind me that yes, I am right here, right now. A reminder that I can get through this with nice soaps, herbal smells, body pillows with orange corduroy covers, footy pajamas, and the soft glow of salt lamps and candles.

Been exhausted this week...sleep has been worse than usual. Hopefully tonight with some valerian root I can sleep in. Anticipating a long day of masters writing tomorrow...last time I wrote on a Saturday, I put in eleven hours. I don't know if I'm up for that tomorrow, but I've only got a week left till my self determined rough draft deadline, and I have a lot of boogying to do. Speaking of which, tempus fugit...and I've got work to do.

Airports

Airports are strange places. Before I met my wife, I had taken one trip by airplane. Now, air travel has become a somewhat regular part of my life.

Since airplanes have become a frequent mode of travel for me, I have taken one trip with co-workers, one with my wife and stepdaughter, and the rest have been solo. This means I have spent a lot of time in airports with time to think and time to observe those around me.

If you've seen the movie Love Actually, you know that the movie begins and ends at Heathrow in London. As Hugh Grant narrates the opening scene of the movie he speaks about the Arrivals Gate at Heathrow and how it is an ideal place to see that love is actually all around.

I was thinking about that as my wife and stepdaughter dropped me off curbside at the Des Moines International Airport this evening.

For those of you who are accomplished air travelers, you might find the fact that the Des Moines Airport has the title "International" to be somewhat amusing; it's barely bigger than a regional airport. It's not particularly easy to get to either; it's several miles from any major highways.

That being said, I found myself just inside the doors of the airport, looking back at my wife's car, trying to steal one last glance of my beloved. We'd had our parting curbside...one last kiss, one last embrace. We'll see each other in a few weeks, but it didn't make leaving her any easier.

I walked past people standing outside in single digit weather with their luggage, waiting for their friends or families to pick them up. I saw people waiting for the special people in their lives to get off of the planes so they could go home. I moved along with the travelers who, like me were just beginning their journies.

I wonder about how similar or different those people might be feeling to me. As I've said before, I have been blessed with the ability to encourage others to tell me their stories, so I have developed a curiosity about how the stories of others compare to my own story. Maybe some of those people are returning from a long trip, or they are in town for business. Some might have flown on for a wedding; some for a funeral.

I just spent a busy three day weekend with family and friends. I was feeling very tired and was facing the prospect of not getting back to my place in New Mexico until after midnight, knowing that it will not be warm enough to sleep soundly, facing a long drive to an early morning meeting for a job that has recently become more stressful and so very reluctant to leave behind my wife and children.

The airport has become a place of mixed emotions for me these past few months. When I flew home for Thanksgiving this past November, tears of joy came into my eyes when I realized we were flying over fields in Iowa and that soon I would see my loved ones after being apart for months. After visiting my wife's family in Michigan during that trip, I flew back to New Mexico from Detriot. With such a busy airport, all there was time for was a quick goodbye to my wife and a final wave to my nieces and stepdaughter in the car. Coming down from the high of seeing my children for the first time in three months and realizing that in another month, I would have two weeks at home.

Every time I have gone back to New Mexico has been a challenge. Several times over the past few months people have asked me if I like it in New Mexico and my response is always similar: "I'd like it a lot better if I was with my family."

I am really enjoying learning about Navajo culture and there is no doubt I have grown a lot as an individual and spiritually. During my first few months, I did a lot of exploring within a few hours of where I live. I delighted in the natural beauty and the people I met. Lately, as the weather grew cold and I got serious about writing my masters paper, I have not been exploring, I have not been visiting new friends who sell at flea markets a couple of hours away and I have been spending a lot of time alone with my thoughts.

This is what I return to this night..as dangerously cold place with inadequate heating and "hot" water that has been lukewarm at best since I moved in, work stress, endless hours of perfecting my masters, and solitude.

Tonight, the airport is not a place of exuberance and excitement for me; it is the path away from familiarity, loved ones and comfort.

But this is my last planned flight during this contract job.

I will go home for Spring Break, but I will drive. Then it's the home stretch before my contract is completed and I will return home.

I hope the next time I am traveling from an airport, it will be with my wife. Maybe our kids too. My kids have never been on an airplane, and I look forward to giving them the experience of flying to some exciting destination.

Airports, for me have gained some sort of deeper metaphorical meaning; something elusive. In time, I may puzzle that out.

For now, we've begun our initial descent. Soon I'll have to lock my tray table and seat back and power down my portable electronic device...then find my connection. With some hard work, some mindfulness and perhaps a bit of luck, that connection will deliver me to the lessons I have left to learn in New Mexico, and eventually to my final destination.

Here Comes The Boom!

A few months ago, at the suggestion of my wife, I went to see the movie Here Comes The Boom. It stars Kevin James, Salma Hayek and Henry Winkler. It's the story of a high school biology teacher who enters the world of mixed martial arts in an effort to save his school's music program (yay music!). Before the fights, each fighter chooses a song to play as they enter the arena. When Kevin James's character starts out his MMA career, the song he enters to is "Boom" by P.O.D. and that is the inspiration for this post.

Immediately after the movie, I downloaded "Boom." After listening to it a couple of times, I looked up the lyrics. I soon realized the power some of those lyrics have on my psychology. I found resonance in those words with an image of myself I work to maintain. I'll explain that shortly.

Like most humans, I have intense periods of self doubt and fits of little to no self confidence. The reasons are not uncommon...relationship with my parents, early life experiences, highly capable yet classic underachiever...

I've been immersing myself in the writings of Eckhart Tolle and working with a great therapist to get that all sorted.

So I have figured out over the years that when I listen to songs that contain lyrics that support this image I emulate, I get, as we used to say, "psyched up."

Those of you that have seen Rocky will know what I mean. It's hard to listen to "Gonna Fly Now" without picturing Rocky running through the streets of Philadelphia with a crowd of people running after him, cheering him on and at the climax of the song (thinking about the high trumpet line makes my cheeks hurt!) he reaches the top of the stairs and jumps up and down in celebration.

That is the kind of imagery that gets me going!

To be fair, sometimes my psychology shifts to a sort of feigned narcissism. My psychologist wife assures me that I am not truly narcissistic, but at times I do a pretty good impression.

This is evident in my resonance with songs like "Gimme The Prize" from the movie Highlander.

Here I am, I am the master of your destiny, I am the one, the only one, I am the god of kingdom come, Gimme the prize! Just gimme the prize!"

Do I REALLY think I am the master of someone's destiny? Do I view myself as the one, the only one?

Of course not!

But...these lyrics evoke feelings of power, strength and control. That is what resonates with me...that is what I feel like I am lacking at times.

Some of the other songs that have supported my emulated image are songs like "Bounce" by Bon Jovi:

This ain't no game, I play it hard, Kicked around, cut, stitched and scarred. I'll take the hit, but not the fall, I know no fear, still standing tall

"Good Suspicion" by Pacemaker Jane shares:

It's a wide wonder that you don't see All the stored up, saved up potential me I got a right mind to let myself go Show you what I can do, make sure you know...

There is a particularly moving spoken part in Steve Vai's "The Audienece is Listening":

I am fearless in my heart They will always see that in my eyes I am the Passion; I am the Warfare I will never stop Always constant, accurate and intense

Which brings me to "Boom"...

...say they know me though 'Cause I be puttin' in work Commit my life to rebirth Well respected 'cause that's my word...

Later in the song:

...and when it's time to handle business then we know what to do Me and my crew we stay true, old school or new Many were called but the chosen are few...

This has been the rally cry for my masters writing.

You see, I've never had to work for much in my life. As I said earlier, for a long time, I was a classic underachiever. I was happy to just get by in school. I usually pick up on things fairly quickly without much effort.

There are three things I can think of that I have truly had to put effort into in my life so far...my guitar recitals for my undergrad, the courtship of my wife and my masters writing.

With my masters, I must admit I have surprised myself. This underachiever has put hours and hours of work into this project every week for the past few months. That may sound like basic procedure for graduate work, but for me, it's a big deal.

The line "...'Cause I be puttin' in work, commit my life to rebirth, well respected 'cause that's my word..." describes my feelings about this process so well. I HAVE been putting in work, and remember, that's a pleasant surprise for this procrastinating underachiever. I have committed my life to rebirth...refusing to be bound by the past and the ways I used to do things. Well respected 'cause that's my word...I surprised my therapist three short weeks ago with barely an outline of my paper, I committed to having a rough draft of my paper submitted to my adviser by February 1.

I finished that draft four days early.

Finally, after close to four decades in this lifetime, I feel like I am coming into my power. I feel like I can accomplish the goals I set for myself, instead of staying small and fading away.

My experience as a music therapist teaches me the power music has in changing mood and psychology. I am grateful for the knowledge of how to affect this change in my own life.

Next time you find yourself using music in a similar way, ask yourself what emotions does the music bring up for you? What do you identify with? I feel like I am ready to be unleashed on the world...to be a powerful agent of positive change.

"Boom! Here comes the boom! Ready or not, how you like me now?"

What The Hell's Wrong With You?

Do you ever get out of your head just long enough to metaphorically (or actually) look at yourself in the mirror and say "What the hell is the matter with you?" Yesterday, I spent eleven hours at Starbucks, working on my masters paper.

Today I've been at Starbucks for nearly four hours, and all I've accomplished to that end is to find a list of sources from when I first started a lit review...four years ago.

What else have I been doing?

Writing in my journal...software updates on a little used laptop, and watching "The Office" on Netflix.

I am full on pain body today.

Today, I am suffering.

Remember the words of Tony Robbins: Pain in life is inevitable. Suffering comes when a person feels powerless to change the situation causing the pain.

But I question why I am suffering...

Sure, I've got money challenges right now, work stress, living situation stress, away from family...sometimes, that's life.

There has to be something more, something deeper.

What if I actually enjoy suffering?

Doesn't make sense, does it? No sane, rational person would enjoy suffering.

Tapping into Eckhart Tolle's ideas on the ego, the picture becomes clear. The ego has one job...to survive. It will do anything it can in order to survive...as Eckhart says, sometimes even killing its host.

It seems that somewhere in my life, I began playing a victim role. I actually remember that going back to when I was three or four years old...I've had a LOT of time to perfect the role.

The thing is, I've let that role control my behavior and actions at times. That role helped me stay small for most of my life. If things are going good, let's do some self sabotage, so we can REALLY feel that victim role again!

Time and time again, I have been told that I get in my own way...but if I don't, the victim role will fall away and the ego would eventually die, and...

Ah! The light of consciousness!

The ego cannot withstand it!

This quote from Hands by Jewel popped into my head this morning: "...and not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful and useless in times like these."

Like Eckhart says, there are no problems, only situations that must be dealt with. The mind, courtesy of the ego turns those situations into problems.

The mind is such an amazing tool, but most of the time we don't use it...it uses us. Exposé sang Free Your Mind...the sentiment should be "free yourself." Your mind can fend for itself!

As the ramblings of getting out of this funk start to creep in, I take a look once again in the metaphoric mirror and say, "What the hell's wrong with you?"

The reflection smiles back and says, "Nothing. Why do you ask?"

A Dozen Years Later

I remember where I was and what I was doing exactly twelve years ago to the hour as I write this. I thought I was going to die...and I was scared.

Not easy for a warrior musician to admit, but it's true.

The short version of the story is that a failed intubation during a routine surgery left me with an infection that was reducing my ability to breathe. Exactly twelve years ago, I was losing my ability to speak.

The day was much like today as my friends back in Iowa post weather updates about the blizzard happening at this moment. They wanted to fly me to the University of Iowa hospitals for emergency surgery, but it was not safe to fly.

When I went in for surgery, they told my wife, my first wife, five months pregnant with our oldest daughter, to call family and call life insurance...they did not expect me to survive.

By nightfall I was awake and breathing through a tube in my neck, unable to speak.

A lot has happened since that day.

I've been blessed with three beautiful children and I buried my father

I developed type 2 diabetes and became a martial arts master

I finished my bachelor's degree, I'm finishing my master's and preparing to apply for a doctoral program (if only my high school counselor could see me now!)

I went through a painful divorce and I married the perfect balance to my soul

I've known the depths of darkness and the pinnacle of ecstasy

I have loved and I have grown and I have lived

On this eve of the winter solstice where the promise of life is renewed and of the Galactic Alignment that harbors a powerful yet subtle shift in human consciousness, I have this message for you:

The Ancient Wisdom is true...there is life, there is death and there is rebirth.

I've been there.

Decisions of Destiny, Tony Robbins, Sandy Hook & 12-21-12

As my Facebook friends know, I've been spending a lot of time at Starbucks lately. I wasn't a Starbucks person until a few weeks ago when I started the final push on my master's degree and needed reliable wi fi for hours at a time. Today, while taking a break, I decided to re-watch a video of Tony Robbins giving a TED talk. I found within it, not only some wisdom for my own life, but for recent and upcoming events.

Here's the video that inspired me today:

Tony shares "3 Decisions of Destiny."

1.What am I going to focus on? 2.What does it mean? 3. What am I going to do?

I won't discuss the nuance of each of these decisions. Instead I encourage you to watch the video for your own take on the decisions.

Instead, I think it is worth considering how we as individuals can use these decisions in the wake of the shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary and in anticipation of the great shift on 12-21-12.

Someone close to me once called me a social observer. She remembers me doing a lot of listening in group settings, then interjecting comments that would either make people laugh, take the conversation in a new direction, or both.

Since the news about Sandy Hook broke, I have been observing reactions people have had through social media. I have reposted the ideas of others if I found them to be in alignment with my own and today I have shared my views in some limited fashion.

I have witnessed people saying "don't blame the guns" and people calling for increased access to mental health care. Some are suggesting that increased access to guns would have stopped the shootings...claims that arming teachers is a viable solution. I even read a statement pleading for society to not condemn folks with autism (rightly so).

We are hurting.

Emotions are high. No matter where you stand on issues of gun control/gun rights, mental health access, ask yourself:

1.What am I going to focus on? 2.What does it mean? 3. What am I going to do?

Do. Something.

Sharing your ideas through social media can be valuable, but don't let it be empty rhetoric. Talk without action is worthless.

Decide what you're going to do, and make it happen.

It also seems appropriate to comment on all the speculation regarding 12-21-12.

There are the doomsday sayers who believe the world will end. Personally, that's the day I travel to be with my family for the holidays...I sure hope the doomsdayers are wrong.

Jokes abound about the Mayans running out of space on the calendar and that nothing will happen. I read Facebook comments about all of the "idiots who believe the world will end" and what lame excuses they will come up with when they wake up on December 22.

A local car dealer is running radio ads for a sale and they guarantee that if the world ends, you'll never have to make a payment on your new car.

Without going to far into my own beliefs, I again encourage you to examine:

1.What am I going to focus on? 2.What does it mean? 3. What am I going to do?

I think in general, whether we are discussing things like Sandy Hook or the end of the Mayan calendar, it's a good idea to tell the people you love that you love them, every day and to live your life like every day may be your last.

I really identify with ideas that were popular during the Middle Ages when death, mostly from disease, was a regular part of the human experience. It was common to inscribe a Latin phrase meaning "perhaps the last" on clocks. The phrase "memento mori" was common as well: remember that you too shall die.

I've found that in today's world, many people are uncomfortable with these macabre notions. One place I worked I had "memento mori" and the translation as part of my email signature. I had a co-worker write an impassioned email stating that SHE did not need to be reminded she was going to die one day.

The truth is, we never know how much time we have.

Make yours count.

No Tolerance For Rape Or Rape Jokes

I want to make one thing CRYSTAL clear. I have no tolerance for anyone who would even consider raping someone. I am a martial arts instructor and enjoy teaching self defense classes. I've taught with my instructor as well as a female friend of mine. I always felt like I was helping people have a better chance of surviving a self defense situation...rape is one of these awful situations.

I realized recently how our approach was incomplete all these years of teaching self defense. We taught from the mindset (when specifically teaching rape defense) "Don't get raped." Things that go into this mindset are things like: being aware of your surroundings, keep a clear head and the fact that 90% of self defense is not getting into a situation where you need self defense skills.

Recently, through the miracle of Facebook, I have been introduced to the part of the training we didn't teach..."Don't rape."

I was inspired by a series of ads running in Edmonton, which I found on Facebook just a few minutes ago. I reposted the link on my wall and within a minute or two, I was horrified at a comment one of my Facebook friends made: "But remember its not rape its a struggle snuggle."

I immediately replied: You're a sick bastard. You're also unfriended.

This person is the son of people I used to go to church with. He always seemed harmless enough, although his obsession with firearms combined with general ignorance (never a good combination) always creeped me out a little.

His comment is inexcusable. There are some things that are never funny to joke about. I have a no tolerance policy for such asinine behavior. I suggest you don't tolerate it either.

Now that I have clearly stated my position, I move forward in love and light.

A Declaration of Determination

I feel jet lagged and exhausted. I feel pressures emotionally, financially, educationally, personally, spiritually...

I want to crawl into bed and sleep away the agonizing exhaustion and maybe all the stress will seem less when I awake...

But...

I have work to do.

Not out of commitment to contract or sense of obligation to those who are depending on me.

I have work to do, because there are some things about my current situation that are unacceptable.

I can no longer abide by feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness. I will show gratitude to the Universe/Great Spirit/Creator/God/Goddess/All One for this beautiful life with all of the challenges that make me stronger and wiser.

I will not diminish the wonderful gifts I have been given to share with this world by harming myself with self doubt, poor food choices, unhealthy habits, depression and damaging patterns of behavior .

I will do what needs to be done to physically, emotionally, spiritually and financially protect myself, my wife, my children, biological and by choice, and our families, and when we are well secure, I will help others find that security for themselves.

I bear witness to the Great Fear so many are burdened with. I see it, and choose to live outside of it. I choose to live beyond the fear that those who would control us perpetuate. To live in Fear is to live small. None of us are small. We each have important purpose in this life and by living in Fear, by living small, we cannot fulfill our purpose.

I will nourish body, mind, spirit. I will rest when needed, but I will not be passive. I will live my life as authentically as I can. I will love myself and love humanity.

The time for me to cower and live in fear has passed.

I choose love, I choose light, I choose wholeness, I choose life.

Shine on.

My life will not

Skills versus Passion

When I first introduced this blog, my intention was to write mostly about music therapy, the daily joys and challenges of being a music therapist and to offer tips, tricks and insights to help other music therapists. I figured that occasionally I would throw in some other life lessons I was learning, about relationships, or parenting. A few short months after I started blogging, I lost my music therapy job. I lost the primary motivation for wanting to blog. I lost my material and experiences to blog about. I took a long break to regroup...regroup my life and rethink blogging.

Eventually, I considered the description I had written when I started the blog... "This blog is about the life and times of a neurologic music therapist."

Turns out, that the neurologic music therapist was going through a time in his life where he was not employed as a music therapist. But I remember a man who came to talk to at a career day when I was an undergrad music student the first time around. He had been a music major in school and then went into educational leadership. Looking back at that time, I remember rolling my eyes at the whole career day concept and only attending the required presentations...I was young, what can I say?

This man, at the time a school superintendent, said something very simple and I will never forget it: "No matter what you end up choosing to do with your life, you are a musician, and I think that will show in everything you do."

As some are so fond of saying, mind blown.

Currently I am working as a teacher of the visually impaired...a certification I picked up in grad school...and you know what? I am very musician-like in my approach to this work, specifically, music therapist-like.

I plan to keep this gig for this academic year only...I have to find something closer to my wife and family. As I look ahead to my next gig, I consider another TVI job, or music education job, both of which I am well qualified to do, but is that what I'm passionate about? Should I do work that I have the skills to do, just because it's good money, or a good location, or is that settling?

I'm a big fan of the Dos Equis commercials that feature "The Most Interesting Man in the World." There is a series of brief clips where he shares his thoughts on things like the two party system, rollerblading and, careers. In the subject of careers, he says, "Find that thing in life you don't do well, and then don't do that thing."

Sage advice.

I was reminded of those words when considering where I go from here. Do I want another job as a TVI? I could do that, and I enjoy working with the kids, and it is kind of cool being someone who has the inside knowledge in a highly specialized area, but it's not my passion. I owe a lot to Dr. Matthew Armstrong. He was composer in residence, director of the men's choir and taught Elementary Music Methods during my second round of undergrad. I was one of those dual program people: music therapy and music education. I remember sitting in his class and hearing him talk about the time he spent as an elementary music teacher. During that class, in his words, I learned something about passion for life's work. I realized in that class that I had no business being a teacher. If I didn't have Arnstrong's passion for teaching kids about music, then it would not be fair to the kids. Kids deserve to have inspired and passionate teachers.

I thanked him for it. His example helped me get clear on where my passions lie, and it also helped me develop a professional code of conduct.

No, my passion is using music as a healing modality.

At this point, some of you might be thinking, "Didn't he just talk about a professional code of conduct and say he didn't go into teaching because it wasn't his passion?"

I've learned a few things over the years. First, I learned that I do love to teach. What really soured me in the beginning was school politics. A bit of irony that was not wasted on me occurred when I took Dr. Alaina Love's Passion Profile. My wife collaborates with her on some research and she suggested I complete the profile in order to receive some guidance about where my passions are. Here comes the irony: the section that I scored highest in...Teacher.

I 've also learned that I can perform a job, and perform it well, even if it is not my primary area of passion. I have a passion for helping people and my first choice for expressing that is helping people using music, however, with my current job situation, by taking an interest in doing what is best for the students on my caseload, I can use the skills I have developed to help them succeed. I've learned I can do this without feeling like I am doing a disservice to the kids.

So the question is, do you do the job you're good at, even if it's not your passion?

I share office space with two people, and they share the same job title. Listening to them talk the last few months, I can tell that they are good at what they do, but so much of their office time is spent ranting about the administration and policies that I wonder if they are just close enough to retirement that they are easily annoyed, or if they took these jobs because of skills they posess instead of feeling the fire of passion.

I have been fortunate to develop a unique skill set. I am a better teacher because I am a therapist and I am a better therapist because I am a teacher.

Think about your current employment situation...are you doing the job you do because you have skills, or because you have passion?

For my music therapist friends, are you working with populations that inspire you and feed your fire of passion? Have you found your niche?

I am fascinated by the trends developing in music therapy. People are combining music therapy with other disciplines, or expanding their work to create resources for other MT's. Transpersonal psychology and music therapy, creative arts therapy and music therapy, continuing education for music therapists and music therapy...these are exciting times we music therapists are living in...ripe with opportunity to create a positive impact. These pairings are using skill sets from complementary disciplines to create new and exciting combinations! And people who remain in the music therapy profession are passionate...it's just not something that can be sustained without the fire of passion.

What's that saying? "Whatever you decide to be, be a great one!"

So I leave you with these questions:

Are you currently doing something with your life simply because youcan do it or does the fire of passion burn brightly, shining your light out into the world?

If you're working from your skills but not your passion, what would it look like to shift and engage your passions?