The Road Will Teach You How To Love and Let Go

I've seen stories from music therapists recently about losing people they have worked with, for many years in some cases.

For those music therapists among you who have never lost a client/ patient, it will happen. It happens to all of us...and there is absolutely nothing that can fully prepare you for when it happens to you.

Yes, you can gain intellectual knowledge about the grieving process and loss...you may have helped countless people work through their own grieving process.

It's different when it happens to you.

I was explaining to a patient recently what it's like from a provider standpoint. He was wondering, since he's had several inpatient stays for addiction, if people dread the sight of him being admitted for treatment again. 

I told him for some of us, we do hate to see people that we know are struggling, have such a hard time. Sometimes the path of addiction ends in an early grave, and that hurts, as a provider, because we want the best for our clients/ patients. Otherwise, we would be doing something else.

What I didn't share with him, was a bit of solace I found in the lyrics for "Wash it Away" by Nahko and Medicine for the People:

The road will teach you how to love and let go, it can be lonely, but it's the only thing that we've ever known.

All providers, especially music therapists must find the wisdom in these words. We do what we do because we care. Yes, we have to maintain professional boundaries, but music itself fosters intimacy with those we serve. It's an art for expressing emotions...we get attached to our clients/ patients.

Our professional and our life journey, the road, will teach us how to be invested in the highest good for our clients/ patients, and when our paths part ways due to death, we experience our grief process, and gently, with love and light, we let them go.

We let them go and we move on to the next client/ patient who also needs our unique skills to help them along the road of their life.

When a client/ patient leaves you in this manner, draw from your support community and from the experience of others who've walked the path before.

This is how the road teaches us to love and let go.

Regrets on a Thursday Afternoon

Just now, I was sitting in my car, after work, texting my beloved wife. As my car was warming up on this winter day, I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, someone approach and get into the car next to me. This was especially noticeable, because I had pulled into my spot front first and this person had backed in, so the person was right by my door as they unlocked their car.

A few minutes later, as I was ready to leave, I noticed the car next to me was still there. I glanced over, and saw a man, wearing sunglasses, with his head leaning on the head rest. I also noticed a single tear trailing down below the sunglasses.

I paused for a moment, put my car in reverse, and backed out.

Immediately, the thoughts started pouring into my consciousness:

I don't know this guy.

I just spent the whole day helping others put their broken pieces back together!

He'll be alright.

I've got things to do...I can't save everyone.

But then another voice came through. The voice of my spirit guides:

What's the matter with you?

You could see he was in pain...help him!

You are a healer! You don't get to punch out at the end of the day!

That voice of truth reminded me...Always on call. Always ready to bring peace. That is the life that chose me. It's the life I have chosen.

I turned around and headed back for the parking lot, but the car, the man, and his pain were gone.

I said a prayer for him. I pray that his pain passes quickly and that whatever caused the single tear I saw resolves harmoniously.

We are creatures of habit when it comes to parking, so maybe I'll see that man again. Maybe I'll have the chance to ask, "Is there anything I can do?"

Asking if everything is okay is stupid...clearly when tears fall, things are not okay.

I know that I've been the one crying in my car at the end of the day. Maybe there's nothing I could do for that man directly. It doesn't matter what causes the pain. Sometimes it's enough to say, "Hey, I get it! Life can be scary and frustrating and confusing and sometimes things just suck. I get it. You're going to be okay. You'll get through this."

If I don't get the chance to say these things to that man, I can at least be grateful for the lesson he unknowingly taught me:

It doesn't take some grand therapeutic or healing gesture to say "I see your pain, and I get it."

It just takes choosing to roll down the window, instead of backing out of the parking space.

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.

It Didn't Come for Free

I just watched this video of Ethan Hawke talking about depression in the creative arts. He speaks about the work of Robin Williams, Phillip Seymour Hoffman and River Phoenix. The phrase that Ethan says that really caught my attention is

It didn't come for free.

This phrase reminds me that as music therapists, we need to take care of ourselves. Another phrase I learned early in my career reminds us

If you don't take care of yourself, you can't take care of anyone else.

This rings true for anyone in a service profession. We choose this work because we want to help people. We can't do that if we're a mess on the inside. Eckhart Tolle says we need to take care of our inner space. We must pay attention to what is going on inside of us so things don't get out of control.

What we do as music therapists, it doesn't come for free. As I read once, "there is a price for greatness."

It doesn't come for free.

Take care of yourself, on every level.

Life Is So Very Good

I just finished a meal at my favorite Korean restaurant. I load up on the kimchi...probiotics have been linked to improved mood in people with depression, and I've had my struggles. With a warm, satisfied belly, I walked into the night air. I parked a few blocks away...have to get in those 10,000 steps.

I took a deep breath of the clean, crisp night air, looked at the beautiful neighborhood the restaurant lives in, and thought, "Life is so very good."

Yes, the are challenges and frustrations in the day. My life is not exactly how I would like it to be, but I'm on my way.

Sometimes, a warm belly, clean air and beautiful surroundings make us forget all the things we'd like to change.

I sound like Garrison Keillor on A Prairie Home Companion as I wrote this blog on my phone, in 10 degree weather...I want offer a small bit of gratitude for the simple things that make life sweet. Cherish them.

Life is so very good.

Cherish Every Stupid Moment

I'm shedding more than a few tears this morning. I just found out my best friend's Dad died last night.

This is one of those events that makes most of us reflect on our own mortality, but this situation is a little more complicated than that.

It's been a long time since my dear friend left this life. Over fifteen years. My gods! How did that happen? How did I let fifteen years go by so easily?

Isn't it strange how the death of someone we love can push us closer together to the people they loved, or sometimes, we just drift apart?

For me, it was the latter. I didn't mean for it to happen...it just did.

Sure, I saw her family a few times in the years just after her death. Then her husband married a beautiful woman, who honors the memory of my friend, and they started a beautiful family. I didn't see her parents or sister all that much, but I heard bits and pieces of news over the years.

Then just like that, her Dad was gone.

When I realized how much time had passed, it really put things into perspective.

My Lesson in Ultimate Irony

I got a lesson in "ultimate irony" yesterday. I learned that many combat vets avoid fireworks at all costs.

I knew this in theory, bit yesterday I met someone who explained what it was like for him in situations with loud noises and flashes of light.

He told me about a baseball game he was at where he and his wife sat far away from most of the crowd, because crowds can overwhelm too. Early in the game, the home team hit a home run and in celebration, a cannon was fired...he was anxious and agitated for the rest of the game. He didn't know about the cannon firing tradition.

Fireworks? Forget it! He recounted being in numerous mortar attacks and fireworks bring flashbacks for him.

The casualties of war are not just the lives that have been lost...they include the bodies and and minds and the souls that have been irrevocably changed.

So the "ultimate irony" of which I spoke of is this: one of the time honored traditions that we in the United States use to celebrate the day of our independence, the day of our freedom, is something many of the men and women who served our country to maintain that freedom, shy away from.

That celebration, reminds them of the burden they took on, so the rest of us wouldn't have to.

So please, enjoy the cookouts, enjoy the time with family and friends, and enjoy the fireworks. Keep in mind that days like this are often very difficult for those that served our country. Say a sincere thank you and send them prayers and good wishes for their very long journey toward healing.

Happy 4th everyone!

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.

Response to a Disheartened Music Therapist

I just read a Facebook post from a fellow music therapist who expressed a lot of frustration about how tough it is to make it as a music therapist these days. She asked for some words of encouragement, some small bit of hope in these times that can feel increasingly desperate. I began writing a response and it developed into something quite lengthy, as I have a tendency to do.

When I hit "Post" to upload the response to Facebook, it failed...several times. Maybe it was just too damn long.

At any rate, I will post my response here and link back to the original post. Maybe this will give others of you out there an idea of challenges a lot of music therapists face.

Since 2011, I have been unemployed almost 23 months. When I was employed, often I was over 1000 miles away from my family. I was married for two months before I took a teaching job 1200 miles away. Yes, I am a teacher too...so the jobs that took me away weren't even MT jobs. Finally, in April, I started my first MT job since 2011...and I am still a four hour drive away from my wife and children...including our three month old son. Wonder why there's been almost zero growth in this profession in the past fifteen years? It can be a tough gig. Since I graduated in 2003, out of eight of us in the program, right now I think one other person besides me is doing MT. Often,we have to fight tooth and nail for scraps...scraps! Piecing together a living of a part time gig, or full time gig that doesn't pay a living wage, teaching music lessons, maybe playing with a local symphony...all that, and sometimes we don't break even. Buying our own equipment...I go back to my favorite examples...is a surgeon expected to bring their own scalpel? Is the OT supplying the set of Graston tools? Ludicrous! Yet we put ourselves out there to schools, facilities, organizations that are interested in music therapy and in effect we say, "Sure, no problem! I'll provide the expertise and all of the equipment and materials, you pay me peanuts, then argue about whether you'll even salt them or not, and we'll get along just fine!"

This is a problem.

I interviewed for a position, in one of the most expensive cities to live in here in the States, and this facility said that considering I have a masters degree and over ten years experience, the could offer me $31,000 a year...that's not even a livable wage in the Midwest where I grew up!

Somewhere along the way we, as music therapists, have taught the world it is okay to treat us this way. We accept the bones we get thrown, because we have the passion for the work, and even if I can't sustain a living, really, at least I am living my passion!

I think it has something to do with how music therapy came into existence. Around 70 years ago, a few people brought into consciousness the idea of using music to help people get better. From this divine inspiration, a few of them began to mold and shape the foundations of our profession. They created something out of nothing! They figured out they needed academic training, standards of educating future therapists, research to show the validity of the work.

Somewhere along the path of this amazing process that birthed music therapy, we settled for the idea that we are using the musical gifts we have to help people...gifts. Now, that concept seems deeply rooted in the collective consciousness, and we struggle to advocate for our own life needs financially.

Talking with a group of MT's and the subject of masters level entry came up. A very insightful MT said, "you can talk about masters level entry all you want, but the first thing that needs to be done before we address that is as a profession, we need to fix the pay scale."

I'm working in a very large health care system now. Lots of therapists of all sorts being hired all the time. A physical therapist starts out making two to three times what I'm making, as a point of reference.

So here's the deal...at some point you will have to decide if you're a lifer or not. Sometimes I am still surprised at how people move on to other professions from MT. I just found out today that a MT who did a lot of work in relaxation techniques and worked in MT for many years is now a reverse mortgage expert. I guess at least now she could afford a mortgage...

Me? I'm a lifer. I've got so many research ideas...more than I can accomplish in this lifetime. I'm one of those people Steve Jobs talked about...a dreamer, just crazy enough to think I can change the world.

I will say from my own experience, that any time I have NOT been working as a music therapist have felt very empty to me. Right now I am blessed to be able to help people every day, doing something I a desperately passionate about. Can't put a price tag on that.

But, we live in the real world. There are basic life needs to be met, families to help support...

I'm afraid I have no clear answers to offer. I've been blessed that I have a supportive family and that I've never felt so beaten down by circumstances that I've decided pursuing this career isn't worth it anymore, even though I've come close a few times.

Hang in there and good luck in getting things to work out for you. If you decide you're a lifer and you can tough out the bumpy patches along the path, I think we'll all benefit. I know without a doubt that this world needs more good music therapists...even if the rest if the world doesn't know it yet.

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.

Blessings and Curses

I'm back working as a music therapist. In the past month, I have been reminded that nothing I have done professionally has ever been so fulfilling to me as being a music therapist. There is routine in my day, and yet there is so much unpredictability in how things will play out from moment to moment, that things never get stagnant, never get dull.

Working with the population I do, as a music therapist, is quite clearly (to me) an expression of my soul's purpose in this lifetime. What could be better than that?

There are life defining moments that come along every once in a while. "These are the times that try men's (and women's) souls." There are days that we look upon long after and realize, "Then. It was that day, that moment that changed me forever."

Today, I had one of those days.

My day was almost over when it happened...isn't it so often like that? Someone stopped by my office for a casual conversation. The person heard from someone else that I am a classical guitarist and I was asked for a bit of music. We discussed music, and the power it has. We discussed how it can make us cry sometimes. The conversation shifted and we started talking about more personal things...family, that sort of thing. The person admitted they had some ongoing challenges...acute challenges as it turned out. I assured the person that I was not there to judge and that I wanted to make sure they have the support and help they need...not just because this falls under my job description. Here is a beautiful spirit, a human being, who shared this burden with me. As a healer, a spiritual being and a human being, I am honored to do what I can to make this burden a bit easier. That's part of why I am here in this lifetime.

After the conversation, I sought counsel from a co-worker. I explained I had had challenging situations before, but nothing quite like this, and never in this setting. My co-worker listened compassionately, offered some good, practical advice, and gently said, "This happens a lot, and you need to be prepared for it."

I was able to go find the person and offer the suggestions my co-worker mentioned...all were declined. The person assured me everything would be alright. I know I'll still worry. I'll worry, because sometimes, things are not alright. I'll worry because no matter how much I want to lead that horse to water, no matter how long I stay with the horse while it decides to drink or not, I cannot make that horse drink the water. That horse might die if it doesn't drink the water, but all I can do is lead the horse to the water and hope like hell it chooses to drink it.

That's my curse...and my blessing.

During an orientation recently, my supervisor was emphasizing the importance of good boundaries in the therapeutic process. While I haven't violated my personal or professional code of ethics, I don't know as I qualify for the "good boundaries" club.

I posted this on Facebook this evening:

It may not be professional, but sometimes I care so damn much about the people I work with (patients) that it tears me up inside.

I feel things very deeply. I have a very open way of connecting with people. These are blessings. The curse comes from holding on too much at times. I may never develop the professional detachment that is recommended in similar lines of work.

I am also blessed with the wisdom that comes from experience. I realized today that I have slipped away from my own spiritual practices. It is vital that I step back into those practices immediately. If I don't, I am not going to last long. I must also heavily invest in my martial arts training...a physical way for me to process complex emotions.

For those of you that are "people" people...working with people that you might strongly identify with, I want to leave you with three thoughts:

First, find out what you need to do to process and deal with the energy you bring home from your work (for me it's spiritual practice and martial arts) and then do it faithfully.

Second, a short prayer that is rumored to be a favorite of His Holiness, the Dalai Lama: "Guide me and heal me, so that I may be of greater service to others."

Finally, a phrase I learned working in medical music therapy: "Take care of yourself, or you won't be taking care of anyone else."

Life Wisdom from The Father of Modern Classical Guitar

My beloved wife has been traveling for work a lot lately. She was gone five days, home for two days and now gone for ten days again.

I've been spending a lot of time alone with our dog, and my thoughts. 

Looking for temp work to get me through the summer and applying for music therapy jobs has been taking up my time...and sometimes avoiding those tasks. There are positions with the staffing agency I worked through last academic year, but I feel such a strong draw to get back in the MT game, that I keep applying for those positions.

I was hit by a wave of helplessness and hopelessness today as I was gearing up to organize some digital files. This happens to me sometimes when I feel overwhelmed. So many questions right now...will I find a job close enough to home to commute, or will I have to relocate?

(this question is quite important since I discovered I do NOT like living far enough from my university professor wife and my children where air travel is required to see them)

Do I follow my passions even if the job doesn't pay well?

When do I apply to a PhD program?

Do I stick with being vegetarian even when a steak sounds REALLY good?

These questions and others constantly flood my brain, and thus, the feelings of being overwhelmed.

As I was procrastinating the commencement of digital file organizing, and in the midst of being overwhelmed, a thought bubbled to the surface of my consciousness. In what I believe was an effort by my spiritual guides to give me a kick in the toches, I remembered a phrase I'd heard once when I audited a Christopher Parkening Master Class. He was recounting a conversation after a Master Class he attended with Andres Segovia (Father of Modern Classical Guitar) in which Segovia said something so simple, yet so profound to Parkening: "Work very hard."

Those powerful words apply not only to classical guitar practice, or any practice for that matter, but to life itself.

Flashback to my time in the Four Corners area: I was driving over a mountain on my way to the Navajo Nation Fair in Window Rock, AZ. I happened upon a small waterfall right beside the road. I stopped, drank from the waterfall, played my flute in an offering of joy, scattered tobacco as an offering a said this prayer: "Great Spirit, I ask that you guide me to a teacher today, so that I may learn the ancient wisdom to pass on to those who would hear it."

I had been open to a shamanic teacher for over a year at that point.

As I walked around the Fair, I asked vendors about items they had for sale: different colored corn, corn meal, corn pollen, cedar, sweetgrass, Navajo herbs. My questions were met with kind and informative answers.

Toward the end of my time there, I was feeling let down. I had not found my shamanic teacher.

Suddenly, I laughed out loud! I realized I had met MANY teachers that day! I had received exactly what I asked for!

I believe these important spiritual messages come to us in many forms if we are paying attention. 

The "Work very hard" message was reiterated to me a few years later by my music therapy professor. I was telling her of my immense performance anxiety. I can sing and accompany myself without hesitation, but for whatever reason, performing solo classical guitar strikes fear into my very core.

Her sage advice for countering my anxiety? "Practice your little nubs off."

Another form of "work very hard" had been given to me.

As is often the case when I feel overwhelmed, I shut down...become, as one person put it, inert.

Today, I was again encouraged to "work very hard." Work very hard to get the job I want, in the place I want. Work very hard to follow my passions. Work very hard to get myself prepared to apply to that PhD program. Work very hard to live my life instead of think about my life.

Henry Ford said, "You can't build a reputation on what you're going to do."

That was someone who knew how to "work very hard."

So my friends, pay attention to those seemingly random thoughts that pop into your head...especially in times of stress. We receive the guidance we need constantly...if we simply pay attention.

Today, instead of being overwhelmed, instead of thinking you're not good enough to do the things you want to do, instead of dwelling on the challenges...

Work. Very. Hard.

Advice For New Parents

Some of my social media music therapist friends have newborn babies (or will soon). When chatting with one tonight, I mentioned I have three biological children. My friend commented that I had some experience, and that she and her husband were complete newbies. Got me to thinking...maybe I should share some of my experience!

Really though, I think I can sum up my vast child raising experience, specifically advice for new parents in just two simple points:

1. Babies are the most powerful magnetic force in the Universe

You will have people constantly coming up to you in public, staring, asking questions, and the pushy, creepy ones may even ask to hold your bundle of joy (walk away quickly!)

The experience of being a new parent is exciting, life affirming and exhausting. You will have strangers approach you frequently. This can be fun, since your baby is the most amazing thing the world has ever seen (it's normal to feel this way!) but sometimes, all the attention can be overwhelming. Just be prepared for it.

2. People will advise you on best practice for your baby

Everyone who has ever seen a baby thinks they know the absolute best way to burp them, calm them down, change diapers etc. They will share this information with you, whether you ask for their opinion or not. Of course, this is to be expected from family members and close friends, and sometimes you will ask for this advice. What constantly shocked me was when complete strangers were sharing this unsolicited advice (see point 1).

I chose to deal with that by affirming their idea, thanking them politely and going about my business. There were many times when I thought, "What a stupid idea! That would NEVER work!"

Since I had already affirmed the person's idea and moved on, I avoided lengthy debates over the merits of the idea. Remember the old saying, "Never wrestle a pig...you just get dirty and the pig enjoys it?" Same applies here.

And you know what? You're going to figure out most of it on your own anyway!

I tell people to take a Bruce Lee approach to parenting advice...keep what is useful and discard the rest.

Even advice like the kind I am giving now...maybe you think these ideas are stupid. If so, discard them!

But please, smile and nod before you go about your business.

How Parents Frak Up Their Kids: Advocating for the Hoffman Process

Parents... YOU are frakking up your kids.

Almost every day.

Whether you know it or not.

It's not your fault, it's simply the way of things.

Your parents frakked you up, you're frakking your kids up, and they will frak your grandchildren up.

My parents, the sweet and loving people that they were, frakked me up. I am frakking my children up, biological and step. When my wife and I have a baby, we'll frak that beautiful child up too.

Welcome to life!

But there's hope...there's always hope. In this case, the hope comes from the work of a man named Bob Hoffman. Over 40 years ago, he created something called The Hoffman Quadrinity Process. It's an intense transpersonal psychology...workshop, for lack of a better term.

I won't go into too much detail, but the goal of the Process is to identify patterns of your own behavior developed through something called the Negative Love Syndrome. As children, we either embrace patterns of behavior our parents exhibit, or we rebel against them, creating new patterns. We enter these patterns of behavior over and over again and this is how we relate to people in our lives.

As well as identifying these patterns, one learns to break the patterns, and learns how to break new patterns that arise.

My wife wanted me to go through the Process, as she had, before we got married. In fact, she required it. It was the most emotionally challenging, draining and uplifting experience of my life. Intense bonds are formed with the people you go through the Process with. Those people know more about me than almost anyone on this Earth.

The Process helps one strip away the layers built up around each of us and helps one live authentically. One might think that to live authentically might break the patterns of the Negative Love Syndrome and allow us to stop frakking up our children.

Remember when I said that my wife and I would frak up children we have together?

But I also said that we have both been through the Process...in theory, if we can live an whole, integrated, authentic human beings, we should be able to raise our child without imparting our patterns.

When I made this point to my very wise wife, she said, "Ah, but we still have patterns. We have the tools to deal with them more effectively, but we still have them."

The Hoffman Quadrinity Process may not create utopian parents, but I think everyone can benefit from this sort of grueling personal work.

I know a lot of great parents. I'm blessed to see the love and compassion they share with their children...and I don't often think "Doesn't matter how good of a parent you are...you're still frakking you kids up!"

At least with the Process, we can understand how we're frakking them up...and maybe we do it just a little less.

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.

I don't have time for small and limiting

I used to worry about what others think.

This may come as a surprise to some that know me.

As I've said before, I'm a walking dichotomy. I was the only guy in the small town I grew up in, riding a Tony Hawk skateboard and sporting a Vision Street Wear beret. That was pretty extreme for small town Midwest in the late 80's and early 90's. While I was establishing a reputation that later got me voted "Class Revolutionary", I didn't care about the stylish clothes or popular opinion, yet (surprise, surprise!) there was a dichotomy in my thinking.

At the same time I was being my sports rejecting, sci fi loving, skateboarding, rap writing self, part of me was upset when people thought of me as odd..."I don't care what you think!" and "Why do you look at me that way? I'm just being me!" went hand in hand.

When I got into the "real" world, I noticed a disturbing trend in my thinking when it came to my professional life. On some levels, I became a paranoid conspiracy theorist. I felt like this person or that person had been spreading half truths and nonsense about me and it was damaging my professional reputation.

To be honest, i was made aware that a little of that had actually occurred, but my mind expanded upon it.

These old haunting resurfaced again not long ago.

I found that I was on the outside of a circle I very much wanted to be in professionally. My mind (not being fully present at the time) concocted a story as to why I was shunned.

A few moments before I started writing this blog post, I had a moment of clarity...

Let's say for argument's sake that there are some elusive reasons that I was not welcomed into this inner circle...when it comes right down to it, does it matter? Do I care?

Of course most of us feel very happy and comfortable belonging to a group.

I'm not going to say that being outside of a circle is easy, but as I look back, did the opinions of others change me from my course? Nope. I still skated, still wore the beret...I was still me.

My current path? Am I going to change who I am and what I do so I have the chance of being invited into an inner circle? Nope.

I have unintentionally made a habit of following my own course...much to the frustration of others I might add. But the thing is, ultimately, I don't have to answer to anyone but me. I can bypass the "rah rah" popularity bandwagon and do just fine. The right people will decide to associate with me...I don't have to bow and scrape to join someone else's club.

I'm not going to say that I still don't think about being one of the "in" crowd from time to time, but it's really not as important as it used to be.

I have long said, "If I'm making everyone happy all the time, I must be doing something wrong." If everyone is pleased, then I'm not pushing boundaries hard enough.

Am I content to have a humble music therapy private practice and go quietly about my business? Or perhaps live out my remaining days as a music teacher or teacher of the visually impaired, punching the clock in a tired and broken system?

I am here to transform the system people, not get swept under it! I'm not really the "cog in the machine" type.

I hear some of my current colleagues counting the days till retirement...actually counting (and that day is not coming this year). I told them, "I want to create work for myself that I don't want to retire from. I want my work to end when I die."

They laughed at me.

I want to be filled with so much passion and energy about my life's work that at 104 years of age, people will say "Yeah, thought the old man was going to cash it in, but he showed up again today!"

A while back, a bit of enlightenment came to me: "I am not confined by your definitions...your limitations do not apply to me."

Don't waste time trying to fit into a mold or image someone else has created for you. You're the one that must look at yourself when you get up in the morning, and your opinion is the one that matters when you drift off to sleep each night.

As "The most interesting man in the world" says, "Find that thing in life you don't do well, then don't do that thing."

Beyond that, remember the catchy phrases "Whatever you are, be a great one" and "Boldly go."

Now, stop messing with your hair and go be extraordinary!

Let the "in" crowd dictate popular opinion...such things are small and limiting, and to be honest, I don't have time for small and limiting.

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.