Music Therapy Clinician: Supporting reflective clinical practice Volume 1 | Page 11

in this lullaby was to welcome two beautiful new members of my family, and to connect with them and with their parents, my brother and sister in law, at the beginning of their family life together. Songs are gifts. When I sing and listen back to songs I have composed, I have a unique opportunity to listen to myself, to some facet of my own story or being. When sharing songs I have written with others, an elevated form of interpersonal communication and connection are possible. Original songs tap into the transpersonal dimension as well, reflecting in an individual way, a piece of the universal human experience. Over my years as a music therapist, following long days of creating music to support the health of others, I find it an ongoing challenge to set aside regular time devoted to music making that feeds and nurtures my own soul. I am guessing I am not alone. When I do make the time for my own music, I find it is in writing and singing my own songs that I feel most filled. I recently had occasion to write a song that I am happy to share with you in this first issue of the Music Therapy Clinician. The catalyst for this song, Safe in the Harbor, is a most joyful one – the birth of my two long –awaited nephews, Eliot and Liam, born in Portland, Maine in January of this year. It is my own “Sweet Baby James,” if you will. My intention 9|Page The song is sung through the voices of the babies’ parents, which was not so much a conscious choice as the way the song naturally came into being. Singing through the voice of a new parent has been an opportunity to connect back to the essential, precious, often sleepless early days of bonding and attachment (without the sleep deprivation)! What a joy it has been to see and to know that these two new little beings are getting what they need from their parents…the physical and emotional nurturing for which there is no app or any other suitable substitute. My song celebrates and provides a soundtrack for this essential and irreplaceable human experience, just as people of all times and cultures have sung to their newborns. I am sure I also have company when I say that in my work as a music therapist, I have frequently spent time sharing music with clients whose early experiences of attachment and safety were interrupted or compromised. Thieves in forms such as substance abuse, violence, and mental illness can leave a young life without the early bonding experiences they need to develop emotional stability and health. While I can never replace what was stolen, I am mindful that musical opportunities to hold, to nurture, to build safety, trust, and connection, are foundational to the therapeutic relationship and healing process. It is within that held musical space that my clients can begin to find their own voices, to tell their stories, to grieve their losses, and to begin to explore new possibilities for their lives. Most music therapists I know are compassionate, generous, and busy people, so I am guessing that if you are reading or listening to these reflections, you likely fit that description. I hope as you listen to this lullaby, you are able to be generous to yourself, to give yourself permission to be still, to be soothed, to just be. Those vulnerable parts of ourselves that have been hurt in one way or another need the safe harbor of self-directed compassion. As music therapists, we need time in the harbor to rest, to recharge, to be held, in order that we might be grounded and effective as we continue on in the important, sometimes exhausting, often amazing work that we do. I encourage you to find time to create your own moments of musical harbor. The process of writing and sharing this lullaby has been just such a space for me. Turn the page for the MUSICAL SCORE