A Harper in the Infusion Room

I just had to share this wonderful video, article, and slideshow about harp therapist Marilyn Lemke as she plays for herself and others in the chemotherapy infusion room of the Fox Chase Cancer Center in Philadelphia, PA. It's too beautiful and inspirational not to share.

I had the pleasure of meeting Marilyn on the very first day of my own harp therapy internship at Abington Memorial Hospital several months ago and she was so warm and encouraging. As a fledgling harp therapist it means a lot to receive words of support from those who went through the same process of first masking and then gradually shedding the layers of self-consciousness and uncertainty in the service of a greater calling. I had no idea at the time that she was dealing with cancer (I hesitate to say "struggling with" or "battling" cancer since Marilyn's graceful approach to the situation seems to go beyond simple adversarial metaphors), and even watching the video it's difficult to believe that such a vibrant person is anything but the picture of health.

This story provides a taste of what wonderful things live harp music can do for patients, staff, and visitors: The Harpist - Part I and Part II.

Another Threshold: Being Cleared to Play for Patients

7/12/12, 2:25 PM

Yesterday I did something I've been dreading. In order to begin playing for patients, I had to first play a 10-15 minute session for the founder of the program. She has been playing in the therapeutic capacity for more than a decade and has been deeply involved in music her entire life both as a student and a teacher. No pressure, little amateur harper, no pressure at all. As a matter of fact when we sat down, I with a harp cradled between my knees, to start she even said "now don't be nervous" as if I could help it. One might as well ask water not to be wet.

I did not get a chance to warm up that day even though I got up extra early. I hit some unexpected traffic and it took a while to find a parking spot in the garage. So I played cold and it was not pretty. I stumbled through songs I play fairly well at home and had played decently in the hospital common areas before. I picked the wrong notes to accompany myself and created some awkward harmonies. Then she had me do some noodling and I did better with that. She said the point of the exercise was not to criticize but to see how well my sound was. She said I did fine and cleared me for patient rooms but I felt worse about it after than I did before.

Then she gave me a CD which was supposed to be included in a goodie bag we received at the end of the last module (they forgot to place them in the bags). I knew it was going to be of "relaxing music" but that was it. It is a recording of her playing through several songs in her repertoire as she does for patients - all strung together with languid ease and cascading arpeggios. And I want to cry. Not because the music is lovely (don't get me wrong, it is) but it just feels like another testament to my inadequacy. I may never be able to do this.

Book Review: The Healing Power of Sound

The Healing Power of Sound: Recovery from Life-Threatening Illness Using Sound, Voice, and Music by Mitchell L Gaynor, MD

This book explores the theoretical framework behind various methods which the author, an accomplished oncologist, has developed to assist his patients in the healing process beyond what is offered by standard medical procedure. Although the author was already employing a more holistic mind-body approach with his patients’ treatment plans, it was his meeting with a Tibetan monk named Ödsal that seemed to be the catalyst towards in delving into sound and music therapy in particular. It is Ödsal who first introduces Gaynor to the singing bowl, and though the author has chosen crystal bowls over the traditional Himalayan metal versions, they form a constant thread through the book. The repeated descriptions of their sound and calming effects really has me intrigued and I would love the opportunity to experience them for myself.

In addition to the use of the crystal bowls, toning and chanting plays a major role. As I was reading the sections regarding the creation and use of a personal life song, I was immediately reminded of the songs used by shamans in traditional societies to call their personal spirits to aid in the Otherworldy journey to retrieve solutions for their clients. These songs are unique to the practitioner, typically kept secret, and are often said to be gifts from the shaman’s spirit guides or allies.

I was not at all surprised to learn later in the book that the author has some familiarity with shamanism, however I felt that it was a topic he could have explored in more depth in relation to sound therapy. Much of the book had a very transcendental approach to healing and integration - emphasizing an expansion or rising beyond the sensual world towards a more conceptual, ideal state as the solution to our maladies. I feel that a more in depth consideration of shamanism and the worldviews of the animistic cultures in which it originates would have effectively balanced this approach. The following quotation really summed up his perspective for me and confirmed what I had already suspected:

These audible sounds, when mindfully invoked, lead us toward the abstract sound, toward an experience of ourselves that is nonphysical and infinite.[…] The process takes us beyond the immediate experience of our physical pain and emotional suffering, and puts us in touch with a reality greater than ourselves — as apt a definition of spirituality as any I’ve come across. (43)

Gaynor refers to this aspect towards the end of the book as one’s Essence, a term which in itself demonstrates this perspective. The "essence" of a person, in Gaynor's opinion, is his or her non-tangible facet. In other words, the physical is not essential. I believe this belies the mind-body-spirit continuum that a music therapy approach takes.

This tendency does seem a little strange to me considering that the experience of sound and music are so thoroughly sensual and embodied: we hear vibrations through our ears, feel them resonate in our bodies, see the strings respond when they are plucked, etc. I’ve found that much of the information available on sound therapy, and even more specifically harp therapy, tends to lean towards this transcendent approach and I do find that personally disconcerting.

The sections on toning brought to mind some of my studies of galdr which is a practice rooted in ancient Germanic traditions and involves intoning both the names of runes and the monosyllabic sounds associated with them in order to attune oneself with the powers inherent in the rune and bring about desired change. The author provides a series of monosyllabic sounds as suggestions for composing a life song, but I think my own practice might benefit from incorporating galdr in a similar manner.

I was very happy to find actual exercises in the book which approximate much of the work Gaynor does with his clients. I am very self-conscious about singing when there is even the slightest chance of someone else hearing me, but I did try some of the toning exercises in my car involving transforming one’s pain or anguish into a specific sound, and it did work at least on a temporary basis. I’m not very familiar with classical music on the whole, but the section of music selections associated with each of the elements (pages 223-225) has me very interested to listen to them and see what effects they might have on me personally.

Overall, this book provided a veritable smorgasbord of food for thought in relation to how sound and music can be used in healing modalities. Although I do not think I will be able to use most of the methods directly with harp therapy patients since they involve a lot of active participation, I do see a lot of potential for self-care in its pages which could make me more relaxed and balanced and better able to do the work.