Flo looked around the hospital room. She looked at the plain walls. She looked at the TV. She looked at the IV tree where a bag hung, dripping liquid through a tube into her arm.

She had cried when the nurse put the needle into her arm. Even Daddy holding her hand did not take away the brief pain of the needle.

She was used to it now. The nurse had patiently explained how the liquid in the bag would help her get better. She was getting used to it, but didn’t mean she liked it!

What was she doing here anyway? Nothing to do. No one to play with. Sometimes she just wanted to explode and pull out the IV from her arm and run from the hospital. But she knew she would not get too far. Last time she tried walking by herself to the bathroom she almost fell. It was good that Mommy was there to help her.

Grrr. Moan. All she could do was sleep or watch the cartoons on TV until she drifted off again.

Grrr. She was tired of being sick. She was tired of being in the hospital. She missed her friends and having her family around. She missed her dog. She missed running around and climbing the jungle gym. She longed to sit on the swing with her older brother pushing her. Once he got her started, when she pumped really hard she could fly up so high she could see the whole neighborhood. Flo felt bored, frustrated and so lonely.

One morning after breakfast, she heard new sound coming from the hallway outside her room. Not just the nurses talking quietly or the big rolling supply shelf passing by. She could hear a jingling kind of noise. What could it be?

Someone stepped into her room pushing a cart with all kind of different stuff. Wow! Musical instruments. She recognized some of them from her kindergarten. The woman had a guitar strapped across her body. This was different.

“Hi Flo, my name is Pamela. I am a music therapist. I am wondering if I might visit with you for a few minutes.” Flo looked at the instruments on the cart.

“Do you see something you’d like to play?” Pamela asked.

Flo’s eyes lingered on a shiny red ball with a stick attached. Red was her favorite color. Pamela passed it to her, giving it a shake along the way. “It’s a maraca. Have you ever played one of these before?”

Flo took it and turned it around in her hands. Then boldly she gave it a shake. “We had something like this in kindergarten. What makes the sound?”

“There are some little pebbles inside. Play it some more.” This time Flo held on tight and shook it harder. It felt good to do that. “What else do you have?” Flo looked over at the cart. This time her eyes landed on a drum with a lollypop design on it. She pointed to it, and Pamela handed her the drum along with a mallet.

“You can use this to play the drum. Give it a try.”

Flo took the mallet and gave the drum a good wallop. The sound echoed loudly around the room. Pamela said, “Go ahead. This is your chance to make some noise.”

She reached around to the other side of the cart and pulled out another drum. As Flo played, Pamela joined in matching her beats. Flo stopped suddenly. Her urge was to hammer the drum so loudly, but she was afraid she’d break it or wake up the whole hospital and upset everyone.

Pamela moved to close the door to the room. “There now.  Your playing will not bother anyone. That drum can take lots of hard playing and you really know how to make it talk.”

Flo looked at the music therapist for a moment, and then she gathered all of her might and pounded into the drum. She let it take all of her frustration and anger.

When she had finished, she stopped and smiled. She was tired. But that had felt so good. “What next?”

“Wow!” Pamela said. “You sure needed to release all that. Well done! Hmm. Do you like to sing?”

“Oh, yes.” Said Flo.

“How about ‘She’s be Coming around the Mountain’?”

“Oh yes,” Flo chimed eagerly. She was getting a bit tired but didn’t want the therapist to leave. Together they sang about driving the white horses and silk pajamas and chicken and dumplings. Right through, Flo played on the drum. It was really fun to it to make the sound of the horses’ feet.

As they finished, Pamela could see how tired Flo was. “I think I’d best be on my way. Why don’t we finish with a little good bye song.”

Pamela sang, “Good bye Flo, Good bye Flo. It’s been fun playing with you today and thank you for sharing your feelings.” Flo sang “Good bye, Pamela, Good bye Pamela, I am so glad you came to see me today.”

“Would you like me to come back again?”

“I sure would,” said Flo.

As she watched Pamela leave, Flo smiled. She was tired, really tired, but felt so much better. She turned over onto her side for a nap and slipped into her dreams with her smile still on her face.

The post Flo Meets the Music Therapist appeared first on Pamela Holm 1960-2019.

The Sun and the Wind

Once upon a time, the Wind set out on a day’s journey with the Sun.  They were having a discussion about life.

The Wind, in his blustery way, said “I am more powerful than you are!”  The Sun laughed, “Are you?” The wind replied, “yes I am and I can prove it.  Do you see that man down there wearing the overcoat? Well, I bet I can get him to take his coat off faster than you can!”

The Sun agreed to engage in the conversation. ” Go ahead, try. See if you can get his coat off.”

The Wind blew and blew, gently, strongly, from different angles, and to no avail. The Man drew his coat closer, tied the belt well, and pulled the collar up around his neck, relying on it to block the wind. Eventually, the Wind sighed, and said, “It didn’t work! What do you know! I guess it’s your turn.”

“Okay,” said the Sun. So he parted the clouds in the sky which the Wind had blown in, and gently warmed up the air. Gradually the man relaxed his hold on his coat, opened a button or two, loosened the belt, and finally took off his coat and carried it on his arm. He smiled up at the sun and said “What a lovely day! Thank you.”

From that time on, the Wind never challenged the Sun again.

Moral: Real healing comes from within. Warm the soul gently and people will choose to heal themselves.

In other words: Love conquers  fear.

The Blind Men and the Elephant

Once upon a time, in a small remote village in India, an elephant wandered in for the first time. No one there had ever seen an elephant before. What was this huge creature? The villagers were terrified and astounded and rang the alarm.

In that village there was a circle of wise men who were called upon to provide answers when people had problems and there were disputes to be settled. The wise men assembled together. They happened to be blind, so they could not see the elephant. Blind people explore by touch, so they decided they would each go and touch the elephant, and that way they would learn what it was and figure out where to go from there.

So one by one, they were brought over to the elephant and touched it. Each one happened to go to a different part. One felt a leg, and announced “It is a tree!”. The second, who had felt the ear said,”I declare, this is a thick a leaf!” The third one went over the the side and came back saying, “By my part, it is a wall.” The forth one came upon the tail and so from his perspective, “That’s weird, to me it felt like a rope.” The fifth one felt the trunk and declared, “Oh my friends, you are all wrong, it is a long hose”.

Were any of them wrong? No, but nor did any of them have the whole picture. Together, with one sighted person, they would have had a better sense of the elephant, and still there would be other perspectives.  An elephant, like a person, is a complex being.

The post Stories which inspire my path (2011) appeared first on Pamela Holm 1960-2019.