What Is Enough?

By Lynda Kuckenbrod

lynda-kuckenbrod Lynda Kuckenbrod is a Certified Healthcare Musician, a Vibro-Acoustic Harp Therapy Practitioner, Certified Holistic Sound Healer, Recording Artist, Speaker and Author. Lynda conducts on-line Therapy Harp training program certification courses. She says these courses aren’t just for harpists; they’re also for beginners. Her work includes clinical Harp Music at the bedside in hospitals, hospice centers, nursing homes and hospice vigils. If you would like to learn more, about her work and training, go to http://www.moonshadowharp.com/.

Lynda says, “Being director of the Therapy Harp Training Program, I sometimes hear this from my students:

“I spent 30 minutes with my patient and I didn’t see any positive reaction at all. She just kept moaning on occasion as if she was in pain.
“I was going to see my hospice patient, Fred, one more time. If that road construction…
wouldn’t havehinderedmytravel,Icouldhaveplayedforhim”
“What am I doing wrong? I left the room feeling like I had failed my Why didn’t my music work? If I could have played better, I would have had more success.”

These are all valid thoughts. We have these kinds of thoughts all the time about many things in our lives. “If only this would have happened.” “If only I could have done that.” As healthcare musicians, we need to remove the word ‘if’ from our vocabulary when we refer to the possible results of our work at the bedside. There was a beautiful song written years ago and sung by a man named Roger Whittaker. It is called “I Don’t Believe in If Anymore”. This is a phrase that needs to be held close to the heart of every healthcare musician.

I feel, for the most part, that we have the same reason for becoming healthcare musicians: Through our music we want to help those in hospitals, nursing homes and hospice. We have the need to serve and we have the love of music. We have the intention to do something good for mankind. The combination of intent, love, service and music is a powerful force.

Intent was not listed first by accident. It is the driving and compelling force that makes our music work so well. Our intentions flow through our hearts, through our hands, through our instruments and lovingly surround our patients with compassion and subtle, healing energy. Our basic of all intentions is never to do any harm, but our passion for our profession trumps that basic of intentions 1000 fold. Being in the presence of a patient in need stirs up a passion so strong that we yearn to help them immediately with the music we play.

Our training gives us the tools and techniques to use in our healing music. Our hearts are filled with love to do something good. We play our best. We have used every method and technique we know to relieve his or her pain. We adjust our music. We have focused our intent. But there are times that we leave the room feeling as if we have failed our patient. “If only I could have helped.”

We cannot help feeling like a failure at times. After all, we are human and our ego wants us to feel good and also do what is right for others. We have studied and learned our craft as healthcare musicians well and we feel that our music should help everyone – all the time! And ‘if’ we leave a patient’s room feeling like we have failed, our emotions rattle us to our core.

Now, let’s remove that word if: WHEN we leave a patient’s room feeling like we have failed. There is no if about this. It will happen. We will feel that sinking feeling in our stomach. We will indeed question ourselves on session with that patient. We might even question ‘if’ we made the right decision to become a healthcare musician. We feel that we are not good enough to play at the bedside. And we have three more patients to see that day. How can we even consider playing for another patient when we have failed so miserably with this one? We need to quiet this little bit of ego that has shaken us to our soul and dutifully move on.

We are indeed medical professionals. We are a part of the medical team. More often than not, however, we are provided with less information regarding our patients than any other team member. Many times our initial patient assessment is indeed our initial contact. And often we only have the clues in the room about the condition and the needs of the patient. We have taken that in stride and continue to do our work. We do not use scalpels or pills. We do not use x-rays and MRI’s, but we submit a gentler form of healing. But as healthcare professionals, we face the same struggles as the doctors, nurses and therapists. No matter how much skill we have; no matter how many years of experience, at times we will feel that we have been a failure in our mission. (And even that word ‘failure’ needs to be defined. Ahh, but that is another article in and of itself!)

“I have not done enough.” “My music was not enough.” “My time with my patient was not enough.” “My skills are not enough.” With so many statements about not doing enough for our patients begs to ask the question: “what is enough?”

My answer is this.

We must not enter the world of healthcare music wearing the proverbial rose-colored glasses. All healthcare/medical professionals will not be able to help all patients. As bedside musicians, we are no different. But the real question is this: “How do we know it?” Healing music is an ancient art, but it is also a new science. There is really no way to measure what has taken place with our patients. So our only way to know the results of our session is with our eyes, ears and that little feeling we get in the pit of our stomach.

It is our basic human nature to want to serve, to serve our patients, to serve the world, to be a candle in the darkness.

With this being said, our mission at the bedside is twofold.

To heal using our music, allowing our focused intent, love and compassion to flow through our hands to our instrument and to our patient
And we are also there joining our spark of light with the Infinite Divine.

These are not tasks to be taken lightly!

We must walk into a patient’s room with no expectations. We focus our intent and play with compassion. We set our egos aside. We will not take any credit for any obvious positive reactions that we see in our patients. And when there is no reaction or even a negative response, we accept it. And by doing this, we have eliminated ‘if’ from our mission. We have given our gift.

I have met my patients or their families weeks, months or years after I have played for them. I am surprised that they even recognize me. But I am always amazed and humbled at their comments. I had left their room thinking that I had no positive effect on their situation, but they gave unique, personal comments about their individual experience of having healing music at their bedside! This does not happen all the time, but it happens ‘enough’ to reinforce this fact: Just the act of entering the room with the intent to play for a patient is a tremendous healing force called love and compassion. Our skills at playing appropriate music for them, magnifies this healing force more than can be measured.

Our core value at all times is to play our music with humility, gratefulness and love. This is why we pick up our harps and play for our patients. And no matter the outcome, we carry on and continue to play for the next patient. We may not see the good that we had done. And everything that we have done with our music, every song that we have played, every loving thought, every compassionate vision to do good is one small spark of light in the divine universe. And as we continue to play we spread this spark of light again and again. This is what we have done by playing at the bedside, no matter the outcome. We have touched that person in some positive way.

This is what we do. It is all that we have to give. And it is indeed enough.