Music And Me
I was recently asked by a college student to expand on my relationship to music. Many of my clients ask me similar questions, so I thought this would be a nice place to share. Enjoy the outpouring of my heart on my relationship to music.
Personally, music is a way for me to feel connected, to myself and to others. I play music, or listen to music, as a way to feel the emotions deep inside that are having trouble coming out. I may need to cry, and the right song will help the tears flow. I may need to articulate a deep feeling, and at times music is the language by which the feeling can be articulated. Whether melody, rhythm, or lyrics, music gives shape to the things we cannot see and feelings we cannot touch.
I have a special relationship with particular instruments, which feels inherently unique to me. I grew up singing, and my voice was my first point of connection, to myself, to those around me, and to the divine. To this day, when I sing, I feel kinship. It brings nostalgia, as if singing, in and of itself, is reminiscence of my family, years in choir, and singing with friends down our small-town streets.
My very next instrument was the flute at age 9. It was something to learn, develop, and master through my [now 24] years of playing. Through its forming in band, private lessons, a jazz band with friends, marching band, flute choir, orchestra, and countless solos, flute has become my [secondary] voice. When I bring the flute up to my face and produce a sound, the motion of air across the top of the shiny mouthpiece, my body stills and the sound resonating feels like a composition of my soul. There’s an out-of-body experience in that moment.
Lastly, but certainly not least, the guitar feels like an extension of my heart. It is a way to put my words on paper, in music-form. The pluck of the strings, the resonance against the wooden body, speaks a language outside of me. My guitar has seen me through one big cross- country move, 6 apartments, 4 jobs, and countless clients. Many of these beautiful souls are no longer with us in the physical world, and my guitar and I had the privilege of being beside these people days, if not moments, before they transitioned. I am forever grateful to bring the warm sweet sound of my guitar as a soothing balm for the pain of death.
That is what music does for me professionally. I am a certified music therapist, so this is my occupation, my day-to-day job. I have the privilege of being with people in their most vulnerable states, and I get to lighten the load with music. I play soothing music to promote relaxation, upbeat jams to encourage movement, and improvisation to support active engagement. Music assists in rehabilitation, psychological growth and healing, and social interaction. It is a magical energy that has its roots in ancient cultures and has made its way into science, research, and medical imaging of the brain. I am honored to be a conduit of this universal force in a way to help others. Professionally, I use music as a tool and a language to interact with others who may not have words to share. My job is to use music to help others build the skills necessary to support themselves. Although there are challenges with the profession of music therapy, the responses I see to music on a daily basis are unmatched. They keep me here in this place of music and helping others, and this interaction does something to me personally, touching my soul and speaking to the very fibers of who I am as a person. The professional and personal intersect in the most beautiful way, like harmony of sound.
When it comes to my marriage to the brilliant musician himself, Greg Best, music is the “sweet nothings” in our days when we sing to each other a favorite song or put our silly thoughts to music. It’s playful and fun, a way to express ourselves and join together in the simplest manner. These ways of music between us may not be what someone from the outside sees as impacting our relationship, but these small moments keep us strong. Our sing-song phrases strengthen the friendship we’ve had since music school.
We’ve had deeper moments around music as well. On several occasions, we turned the lights low, lit a candle, and listened through a new album from a favorite artist together. These moments helped us slow down and be with the music; be in the music, together. We have also performed together on a handful of occasions. These moments were profound as we sang a love song for our friends’ first dance, performed for an audience of hundreds singing along with us, and played together with friends for my senior recital. Music was the start of our relationship, and 13 years later, it still brings us together in profound and simple ways.
Music is part of everything I am. I remember as a high schooler thinking about my future, and one thing I knew: I didn’t want to give up music everyday. At that time of life, my days were full of band class, choir practice, musical rehearsals, singing in church, and marching band practice late into the night on a football field. I didn’t want the amount of music in my days to change. So, that is why I went into music therapy, married a highly musical guy, and continue to connect with music personally. Music is life.
