I find this time of year interesting. And, like many I’m sure, I go through the drill of “resolutions” — eat better, work out more, drink less, write more, blah… blah…. blah…
And every year when we get here, like many, I think, “Well, I’m glad that year is over. The world, the political climate, the economy, the environment, blah… blah… blah…”
I also had some personal challenges in 2025. Like everyone, I’m sure.
Doesn’t this happen every year? The Buddhists and the Stoics say that this is the norm, and it’s more about how you accept and navigate through it all, blah… blah… blah…
Sometimes I think, Okay, a new year, same old problems. What’s the point of it all?
However, I also realize that I have a lot to be grateful for.
As a music therapist working in a hospital setting, I see on a daily basis that there are many who are suffering way more than me.
And, I’m grateful for my work — for being able to bring music, something beautiful, into the worlds of those who are truly suffering and provide some reprieve that helps in a small way. That brings some comfort, and maybe even some joy during a joyless time. I’m grateful that I get to connect with them through the healing power of music.
So, for this new year, I’m not going to make any resolutions. And I’m not going to dwell on the hardships of my life in 2025 and feel sorry for myself. Like the Buddhists and the Stoics, I’m letting go of the past. It’s a new dawn. It’s a new day. It’s a new year and a new beginning. And, it’s a time for a renewed sense of hope.
A Story of Hope (and Music)
She’s in her 30s and has been in the hospital for over a week dealing with various medical needs, many of which are a direct result of substance abuse issues. Her nurse told me that she is medically cleared to leave the hospital, but has a lot of anxiety around going home. I was asked to visit.
When I walked into her room, she looked tired, a little anxious, and there was a “hardness” to her face. She was also somewhat guarded. I said “hello” and asked her how she was doing today. Cautiously, she said, “I’m doing okay… better I guess.” I asked her if I could sit for a minute and, again with caution, she said, “Sure.”
I just started talking with her. I asked her how she was passing the time while here and where she was from. When she realized that we were just “talking” she seemed to ease up a bit. “The TV gets old… I try to read. Not much to really do. I grew up in Colorado but I’m fairly new here.” I asked her what she likes to do. “I like museums. I like weird art.” (She giggled.) She kept looking at the guitar, so I finally said, “Oh, yeah. So… I’m a music therapist.”
I asked her if she ever played an instrument and she told me that she tried the guitar once but wants to learn. I asked her if I could get mine out and play something. She smiled sheepishly and said, “sure.”
I said, “Okay, how about I play some music, and you just breathe. That’s all. Use this time to take a little break from everything. No pressure. Just for a few minutes. A little break. Just listen and breathe.” She said, “Okay.”
So… I played.
After a few moments she closed her eyes and seemed to be taking the music in. As the music started progressing, her face slowly softened, and her breathing gradually slowed and deepened. In support, I slowed the tempo of the music and moved some of the light, purposeful tension I initiated with towards more resolve and harmonic themes.
Now her face looked peaceful. Almost… angelic.
After about 15 minutes I brought the music to a close. She slowly opened her eyes and gave a smile. “How was that?” I asked. “That was awesome. I felt… light. Like floating in the sky. High… but in a good way.” We spoke about finding “little breaks” when we need it. Re-setting. And her smile… angelic. I asked if I could play a song for her. “A song about looking forward. About new beginnings.” “Yes!” she said, as her eyes opened wide.
I went into an easy version of Times Like These (Foo Fighters).
“It’s times like these you learn to live again.
It’s times like these you give and give again.
It’s times like these you learn to love again.
Times like these, time and time again.”
She held my eye contact and also watched my guitar playing. She was sitting up in the bed with her legs criss-crossed and swaying. Now she looked… youthful. (Angelic?) Her eyes were wide the entire time. When I finished, she gave a big smile. I asked her, “What do you think that song is about?” After a brief pause, she smiled. And through a few tears she said… “Hope.”
As we look ahead to 2026, perhaps instead of making plans to join the gym again, diet for a few weeks, and meditate daily, we can find a renewed sense of hope. Afterall, it’s a new year. A chance to begin fresh. And, perhaps, with a renewed sense of hope, we will be able to navigate the new year, and tackle what is inevitably thrown at us with ease and grace.
Happy New Year! Here’s to a happy, healthy, and hopeful 2026!
The healing power of music…