There is always something new to learn. As it strikes me right now; each new thing is kind of like a new level of entry, to take you to the more important things you actually wind up learning. One of those important things I've learned (and continue to learn) in the winding path of my own life's tapestry weaving, is my connection to intuition. This is something that I've always had, which I can recognize as I look back over my life. Except that, for much of that life, I didn't understand what I was seeing. Or perhaps better, feeling (or even better, sensing). Now that I get it (at least enough to not be totally oblivious to it), I've come, first, to accept this as central to my approach to making, and practicing music. And when intuition comes, connecting into my mind (as opposed to coming from my thoughts), I continue to learn to trust, without asking questions. That's when the music starts to, in a way, play itself. Which is a beautiful thing to watch. Especially when you're the one doing it.  

Simply put (to the extent that I am capable of simply stating anything); living in the intuitive space (listening before speaking, trusting over worrying, knowing over guessing) is where I can be myself, most deeply and effectively. And what I am learning (and continue to learn) at the piano is what I purpose to take with me everywhere. Which can make every day a new adventure. For example, a few months ago, I was taking music therapy shop with a fellow music therapist, and the intuitive nudge hit me to (of all things) mention that I've always wanted to take swing dance lessons. I was surprised to have that come to me, but not surprised by the outcome, as I've learned to trust (and not overthink). So my new friend and I recently took a few weeks of beginner swing dance lessons. Oh my! Now I can ask "What was I thinking?!", as I can't keep the dance steps straight any more than I can keep my desk clean. Of course, the answer to the question is: I want thinking. I was trusting. And the picture is always, always bigger that we can see (or even imagine).  One (dance) step at a time   ;)   

PS - the above photo is from a swing dance at the Mobtown Ballroom in Baltimore, where I was on stage with the band. Where it's safe (and I won't fall down or step on anyone or otherwise embarrass myself).  :D    

 

It had never been on my radar screen to become a music therapist. But in the 1990s (in my 30s), the dots began to connect. Once I attained certification (MT-BC) in 1997, the network of senior/geriatric communities (many of them continuing care facilities) that I serviced grew to over 30. Most of these were ongoing contracts, ranging from once a week to once a month. It was, essentially, a full time day job, in addition to maintaining my gigging schedule. And for 3 of the busiest years (2003-2005), I held a half time position as Worship Arts Director at a local church. And I was a dad to 3 young children, as best I could be. It was an intense season of life, where sleep was at a premium, and piano practice time was minimal. These days, piano practice time is my center of professional (and to some extent, personal) gravity. But back then, circumstances pushed me in another direction. Becoming board certified as a music therapist allowed me, on a practical level, to pack my daytime hours with contract work (read, gigging). On a professional level, I became deeply immersed in (and a perpetual student of) music therapy in Alzheimer's care, finding a zone of achievable therapeutic benefits and repeatable positive outcomes. On a personal level, I knew, and often would say, that the most important things I (would probably ever) do in music are in places where no one will see. These many experiences were deeply moving, and will always remain in my heart, even as I have moved away from music therapy practice completely in the time since. That place in my heart has been re-touched deeply in recent years, beginning with the public acknowledgement of Tony Bennet's Alzheimer's disease diagnosis. And especially with the window being opened for all of us to witness his collaboration with Lady Gaga, leading up to Tony's final performance (with her) in 2021. Many people (including me) watched the "one last time" televised event with moist eyes. The additional profundity for me, was to be able to see all of this through the lens of a music therapist; seeing Tony's wife and family, and particularly Gaga, do everything right, with care and genuine love. A beautiful as this was to witness is as beautiful as Lada Gaga's posted tribute (image above) upon Tony's passing. Much respect ... to everyone. RIP Tony. Thank you.