(This article was originally written for the newsletter at advocateweb.org. For more articles, written by a large number of advocates, see Advocate Web Archives )
Music mysteriously changes us. In recent years, scientists have begun
discovering that it actually changes us in a physical way. There is much to
be learned about this, but I think what we are learning is very much related
to hope.
Back in the late 80's, on the inpatient unit where my primary assignment was
that of a psychiatric nurse, one of my most thrilling therapeutic
assignments allowed me to utilize my musical gifts. Whenever I could
possibly get away from the routine, I would step back into a small room, to
a piano, and begin simply playing. Soon the room would be filled with
patients and sometimes a few staff members.
Music begins freeing up pathways that are often dormant or atrophied in our
brains. Actually, new neurological pathways are often made. For example,
people suffering from dementia or a deteriorating brain syndrome or
schizophrenia show significant physical changes in the left lobe of the
brain, due to their pathology. Yet these same people, through the gift of
music, often compensate, becoming very creative because the right brain
begins compensating for its counterpart, if given the opportunity!
I remember one woman who hadn't talked much in years. She would just come
alive whenever she heard the music. Soon she'd be talking and would continue
for a short while after the music stopped. Then, before long she would go
back into her shell, appearing to be very content to disconnect from the
world.
During those interactions with patients, I noticed how often the same piece
of music would be received with a different set of emotions by some. For
example, Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata," a very calming piece to many, would
be labeled "depressing" by others. If I shifted to a jazz piece, some
patients would get up and begin dancing around energetically while others
(usually the ones who interpreted the sonata as "depressing") would complain
"oh, I've got to get out of here--that makes me so anxious!" Even rather sad
music, by contrast, might be seen by some patients as peaceful. It was as if
something deep inside connected to the music in unique ways.
I've noticed the same thing happens when we hear a troubling story, whether
it is a story about abuse or an entirely unrelated social trend. Some will
see rays of hope in the story, perhaps something that would have been
exceptionally rare decades ago, or simply the fact that someone is talking
to someone who is listening, whether it be a powerful survivor-to-survivor
conversation or one between a survivor and a person in the powerful system.
Others will become irate, focusing on all of the ways that things should be
different.
Looking beyond myself, taking comfort in slow changes, accepting backlashes
as a part of any paradigm shift, and having a vision of what can be
accomplished over the next few lifetimes is a constant challenge for me. Yet
it is what keeps me going in this work.
May you find hope as you search for the rays and the music that bring hope
and peace to your heart.
Dee Ann Miller
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www.takecourage.org by Dee Ann Miller, author of How Little We Knew: Collusion and Confusion with Sexual Misconduct and The Truth about Malarkey.