More A to Z backwards: part 2

So we’re on V, coming backwards through the little grains that infiltrate the stuffing of our lives as therapists. 

V
Voices – they seem a big part of therapy with children. The crisis/emergency voice as the story scenario hots up and they become the victim, the rescuer, the organiser, the winner. The wistful voice as they wish they had more of something or other – no point in supplying it, as it probably refers to something else and they need to feel that lack and have us understand it. The vengeful voice as they mete out punishment to some unfortunate substitute: “This will really hurt” – and you know that’s how they’ve felt when on the receiving end. Our own voices, acknowledging the pain, the hurt, the sheer unfairness of life. And the ones in our head – dialogic voices – as we think through the meaning of everything.

U
Unravelling. No, not me, but the stories the clients bring. Every week, more of the back story is let out and every week I do a mental revision of my hypothesis to allow for the new information. Strangely, as the story unravels, the client seems to get it more together. As if putting their story out there where it can be made sense of, put into some sort of chronology and linked into a continuous whole, affords the self an opportunity to take a positive view of itself and gather strength for future rounds.

T
That’s the tabor in my small set of musical instruments. A casual interest from any client as to what sound each instrument makes is easily turned into an opportunity to express how we’re feeling, or pretend to “speak” to each other and answer in some way. I don’t think you need to be a musician to use this activity – it needs more of an empathy for the other person and some simple responses that make a connection. My set is nothing fancy. Just the tabor, two tambourines that make completely different sounds, a triangle, finger cymbals, two coconut shells, two single marracas (one from Africa, big and noisy; one from the toy shop, a more gentle brrrr-sound), a small but tuned xylophone (or whatever it’s called when it has metal keys) and couple of wood bars that you hit together (there’s a proper name for these too!). That’s all. No guitars or keyboards – I leave those for the music therapists!

S
Shawl or blanket or rug or sheet. It doesn’t exactly matter which, but it provides security for a small client, a wrap for a new-born baby doll, a warm bedcover for a nurtured teddy, a den roof where no one can see the client, or even a designated area to sit on for whatever activity the child invents. It also conveniently hides anything that is “unwanted” in the displacement. And if I were to count how many clients have asked me to tuck them or “their baby” up in bed, I’d need your fingers too! And no, I am not talking about only pint-sized clients – teenagers of 12 and 13 need the shawl, too. I take it very seriously: it would be so easy to shame them with a wrong word or move.

S is also for Sage journal alerts which you can sign on for here – sometimes the extra emails are a nuisance but the odd jewel of an article is worth it.