Do you believe in music? Pt 2

These thoughts are inspired by Kayla Shafer’s post from July, in which she argued that what determines the success of a music therapy session is less about the therapist’s choices than one might expect–that in fact, an important element is the client’s belief in music as a therapeutic medium. This idea had not occurred to me, but immediately felt true, and I’ve been thinking ever since about the nature of that belief: what does it mean to believe in the music, and what can this teach us about being effective music therapists? 

I am the type of person to immediately be skeptical when I hear someone express confident belief in anything even remotely complex, because my brain interprets their lack of uncertainty as either compensation or wishful thinking. Actually, “skeptical” is being too easy on myself–I’m more likely to fully dismiss a concept without knowing much about it if I hear someone express more confidence than I imagine is warranted. In fact, that’s what I did with the concept of music therapy until I’d rolled my eyes at the phrase enough times to decide that 10 minutes of Googling was warranted (just so that I could more convincingly tell people why it wasn’t a legitimate career). But I think the kind of belief Kayla was describing–far from being the opposite of my contrarian intransigence–is what allowed those 10 minutes to convince me to become a music therapist. 

This kind of belief, as I currently suspect, owes more of its power to curiosity than conviction.

Faith may be an appropriate word for it, in the way we can approach a new situation armed with faith that there are truths to discover that aren’t immediately obvious. Openness to new discoveries doesn’t always involve curiosity: when a conspiracy enthusiast learns of a new theory, the speed with which they accept it as truth is often due to a fear of complexity rather than a genuine curiosity, which I would define as the motivation to expand upon a foundation of evidence. I had 26 years of life experience pointing toward music’s therapeutic potential before those 10 minutes of Googling, and it was this evidence–moreso than the first peer-reviewed articles I skimmed that day–that allowed me to admit the possibility that there were truths I had yet to discover. 

When built on a foundation of evidence, faith allows us to see real truths we otherwise would have missed. It means having the curiosity to try something in the hope it might work, as opposed to not thinking to try at all. It's about believing in opportunities, not preordained outcomes. As Kayla said, music therapists are taught the why and the how of music’s work as a therapeutic medium (neurologically, physiologically, and psychologically), but our clients’ engagement with the music is what transforms these from opportunities to outcomes. “Believing in the music” is not a matter of blind trust, but a courageous curiosity that admits present uncertainty and has faith that effort may be rewarded. I’m sure all music therapists will agree that joys compare with witnessing a client’s experience of this payoff. It’s humbling in an awe-inspiring way to see our role as simply the facilitators of a personal relationship between a client and the music, a relationship that is responsible for the healing, growth, reconciliation, or rehabilitation they achieve.