Music soothes the soul

Archive for April, 2014

Healing with Music

bandaid

With war in Syria, daily muggings, deadlock in the Middle East, domestic violence & escalating racist tensions, we are in desperate need of some good news stories. Being a creative musician, you may not realize it, but you hold the key to giving the world some peace and inspiration.To truly understand what this means, we need to go back a few years to a time when this truth became desperately apparent to me, a time when it changed from merely a concept into a reality.
Some years ago I contracted pneumococcal meningitis, an infection of the brain, to put it simply, and was airlifted to an infectious diseases hospital. One in three people die from this infection, so for a few days, in an induced coma, it was touch and go. In fact, the doctors told my wife to gather all my relatives to say goodbye. I was completely oblivious to all of this and woke eventually with my only thought being that my bed clothes were much too tight, as I couldn’t move my left leg. It was only then that I realized, there was no movement on my left side and total numbness on the right side of my face. I was devastated by the thought I might never walk again and no doctor could give me a straight answer about my prognosis.
Two days into my stay in the infectious diseases ward, I heard what sounded like children playing on a piano. Upon asking the staff, I discovered that a full size grand piano had been donated to the hospital and put into a large open ‘lounge room’. Naturally, at the first chance I got, I asked a staff member to push my wheelchair around to the piano so I could re-establish some semblance of my old life, or at least one aspect of it. If I thought it was simply a matter of sitting at the keyboard and playing all my favourites just like old times, I was gravely mistaken. Many parts of my brain had been damaged and not only would I have to re-learn to walk but also to access the memories I had of musical pieces. My doctors couldn’t give me any signs of hope, but I found a new way to access hope, through music.
Each night, after I ate, I would play for about an hour, and unbeknownst to me the whole ward was listening. One night, as I shuffled my way to the lounge room on my crutches, I was welcomed by a small crowd of people, one of whom asked me if I was the person who did concerts each night. I said I was, and then I played. As it turned out, these patients thought I was a musical therapist paid by the hospital to aid in their healing. This continued for the whole month that I was in the hospital and included times when relatives of terminally ill patients would bring their mothers or their fathers to let the music softly wash over them. One family explained, that it was so depressing, standing around their dying father’s bed in silence, not knowing what to say. He had heard some of the blues tunes I was playing each night and asked to where they were coming from. His family told me later that before he died, he confessed to really enjoying the blues piano and still believing that I was employed by the hospital, thanked the staff for the musical therapist.

As musicians we have a gift that can not only help ourselves to heal, but also bring solace and joy to those around us. With the advent of cheap home recording and the internet, we can now touch souls all over the planet.The world is so full of bad news stories; let’s take back the right to hear some good news. Record, post online, perform and enjoy your music, let’s start to heal this planet one listen at a time!

ith war in Syria, daily muggings, deadlock in the Middle East, domestic violence & escaWith war in Syria, daily muggings, deadlock in the Middle East, domestic violence & escalating racist tensions, we are in desperate need of some good news stories. Being a creative musician, you may not realize it, but you hold the key to giving the world some peace and inspiration.To truly understand what this means, we need to go back a few years to a time when this truth became desperately apparent to me, a time when it changed from merely a concept into a reality.
Some years ago I contracted pneumococcal meningitis, an infection of the brain, to put it simply, and was airlifted to an infectious diseases hospital. One in three people die from this infection, so for a few days, in an induced coma, it was touch and go. In fact, the doctors told my wife to gather all my relatives to say goodbye. I was completely oblivious to all of this and woke eventually with my only thought being that my bed clothes were much too tight, as I couldn’t move my left leg. It was only then that I realized, there was no movement on my left side and total numbness on the right side of my face. I was devastated by the thought I might never walk again and no doctor could give me a straight answer about my prognosis.
Two days into my stay in the infectious diseases ward, I heard what sounded like children playing on a piano. Upon asking the staff, I discovered that a full size grand piano had been donated to the hospital and put into a large open ‘lounge room’. Naturally, at the first chance I got, I asked a staff member to push my wheelchair around to the piano so I could re-establish some semblance of my old life, or at least one aspect of it. If I thought it was simply a matter of sitting at the keyboard and playing all my favourites just like old times, I was gravely mistaken. Many parts of my brain had been damaged and not only would I have to re-learn to walk but also to access the memories I had of musical pieces. My doctors couldn’t give me any signs of hope, but I found a new way to access hope, through music.
Each night, after I ate, I would play for about an hour, and unbeknownst to me the whole ward was listening. One night, as I shuffled my way to the lounge room on my crutches, I was welcomed by a small crowd of people, one of whom asked me if I was the person who did concerts each night. I said I was, and then I played. As it turned out, these patients thought I was a musical therapist paid by the hospital to aid in their healing. This continued for the whole month that I was in the hospital and included times when relatives of terminally ill patients would bring their mothers or their fathers to let the music softly wash over them. One family explained, that it was so depressing, standing around their dying father’s bed in silence, not knowing what to say. He had heard some of the blues tunes I was playing each night and asked to where they were coming from. His family told me later that before he died, he confessed to really enjoying the blues piano and still believing that I was employed by the hospital, thanked the staff for the musical therapist.

As musicians we have a gift that can not only help ourselves to heal, but also bring solace and joy to those around us. With the advent of cheap home recording and the internet, we can now touch souls all over the planet.The world is so full of bad news stories; let’s take back the right to hear some good news. Record, post online, perform and enjoy your music, let’s start to heal this planet one listen at a time!

lating racist tensions, we are in desperate need of some good news stories. Being a creative musician, you may not realize it, but you hold the key to giving the world some peace and inspiration.To truly understand what this means, we need to go back a few years to a time when this truth became desperately apparent to me, a time when it changed from merely a concept into a reality.
Some years ago I contracted pneumococcal meningitis, an infection of the brain, to put it simply, and was airlifted to an infectious diseases hospital. One in three people die from this infection, so for a few days, in an induced coma, it was touch and go. In fact, the doctors told my wife to gather all my relatives to say goodbye. I was completely oblivious to all of this and woke eventually with my only thought being that my bed clothes were much too tight, as I couldn’t move my left leg. It was only then that I realized, there was no movement on my left side and total numbness on the right side of my face. I was devastated by the thought I might never walk again and no doctor could give me a straight answer about my prognosis.
Two days into my stay in the infectious diseases ward, I heard what sounded like children playing on a piano. Upon asking the staff, I discovered that a full size grand piano had been donated to the hospital and put into a large open ‘lounge room’. Naturally, at the first chance I got, I asked a staff member to push my wheelchair around to the piano so I could re-establish some semblance of my old life, or at least one aspect of it. If I thought it was simply a matter of sitting at the keyboard and playing all my favourites just like old times, I was gravely mistaken. Many parts of my brain had been damaged and not only would I have to re-learn to walk but also to access the memories I had of musical pieces. My doctors couldn’t give me any signs of hope, but I found a new way to access hope, through music.
Each night, after I ate, I would play for about an hour, and unbeknownst to me the whole ward was listening. One night, as I shuffled my way to the lounge room on my crutches, I was welcomed by a small crowd of people, one of whom asked me if I was the person who did concerts each night. I said I was, and then I played. As it turned out, these patients thought I was a musical therapist paid by the hospital to aid in their healing. This continued for the whole month that I was in the hospital and included times when relatives of terminally ill patients would bring their mothers or their fathers to let the music softly wash over them. One family explained, that it was so depressing, standing around their dying father’s bed in silence, not knowing what to say. He had heard some of the blues tunes I was playing each night and asked to where they were coming from. His family told me later that before he died, he confessed to really enjoying the blues piano and still believing that I was employed by the hospital, thanked the staff for the musical therapist.

As musicians we have a gift that can not only help ourselves to heal, but also bring solace and joy to those around us. With the advent of cheap home recording and the internet, we can now touch souls all over the planet.The world is so full of bad news stories; let’s take back the right to hear some good news. Record, post online, perform and enjoy your music, let’s start to heal this planet one listen at a time!


Anxiety / Depression “The Black Dog”

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Being a creative musician is a dangerous profession. No, I don’t mean getting your fingers slammed by the piano lid, or a Steinway falling on your head. I mean the proportion of suicides compared to statistics in the general population. Everytime I hear a story informing me of another person who has taken their life, be it a celebrity or “man on the street”. I am deeply touched & realise how close I have come to being another statistic.

I knew from early childhood that certain things affected me profoundly. When I heard certain songs or chord progressions, I felt butterflies inside me & sometimes it made me cry. When I would see injustices to class mates or in movies, I would feel deep empathy. Obviously I was quite a sensitive person & music gave me a chance to enter a creative world of my own making. As positive as these traits were & still are in me, they also have a dark side. Having only recently gained some wisdom on how these thought patterns have affected me, I stumbled on unknowingly through my life, eventually culminating in a breakdown, which really forced me to learn more about the subject & myself. Here are some of the key points I’ve learnt about how I tick.

 

“People Pleaser”

I realised I tried to “Please all of the people, all of the time”. This is an impossible task & ended up causing a massive gap between my expectations & reality.

 

“Setting Boundaries”

I had a tendency to place clients higher in the pecking order, than my own family, so partook in some pretty crazy overtime hours, or I’d take bookings for gigs, even though I’d promised to do things with the family. This caused massive frustration on my part, as I danced around trying to please everyone, inevitably I pleased no one & hurt myself in the bargain.

 

“Learn to love yourself”

I’ve only just started to hear my negative self talk & have realised how destructive it has been all my life. I remember listening to a relaxation tape that was meant to be part of your nightly regime. One of the first things the speaker asked you to do, at the end of each day, was reach up behind you & give yourself a pat on the back! He would then go onto say “You did the best you could today with the information you had.”

 

“Surround yourself with supportive people”

At times I thought I was the only one who felt these thoughts. When I discovered others were in the same boat as me & were willing to help each other out, I rejoiced! Friends who understand your condition & are willing to talk with you are a gift from heaven.

 

Living with anxiety / depression is not an easy thing, but I have to wonder, what if I didn’t have this condition, would I be as productive as a creative artist? The fact that I have felt the lowest of lows, means I rejoice all the more when I feel the highs.

 

If you are experiencing these types of feelings, then take solace in the fact that you are not alone & a helping hand is just a phone call or key stroke away.