(Gilly Bean) New avenue

A couple of years ago, my musical life took a new avenue. I have had been playing for people living with dementia in care homes for a number of years. It was enjoyable and I knew there were deeper levels of this work to swim in. I saw an ad for a charity that allowed musicians to play in hospital wards and other environments where the space can be somewhat removed from everyday life. Playing music for people with serious illness, brain injury, terminal illness, mental health issues and occasionally playing in special schools and colleges for wonderful young people. I auditioned and was offered some work.

It's in this capacity I have truly witnessed what music can do like nothing else can. It can be the song that soothes a dear soul living through a very difficult challenging time in their lives. It can be the laughter and dancing that people had forgotten how to access when they connect with music that brings them to life. It can be the initial resistance to me being there as a musician and then the softening and the opening of their heartspace allowing the music to nourish them. It's the stories I hear people share with me about their lives after I finish playing. What an honour. So humbling, so beautiful showing our intrinsic connection as a human family with so many tales we can all relate to. It's songs that were played at patients weddings or reminded them of a loved one who has passed.

It's the joyous fizz of happy energy shared by little children visiting their parent or grandparent singing to nursery rhymes that lighten the whole mood on a ward. It's a Christmas dinner full of dementia patients and their families that burst into perfect four part harmony when you play Christmas Carols and yet they wouldn't be able to hold a conversation afterwards.

It's an entire ward full of feet standing upright to attention underneath their sheets when I first go in and those same feet totally relaxed and peaceful once I leave. No words needed, their bodies spoke for them. It's a family holding the hands of a loved one who is getting ready to fly from this dimension and leave this world, playing a backdrop of gentle soothing music that helps negotiate the shifting timelines they are experiencing. It's everyone singing together from their beds allowing a moment of shared connection through an experience that can otherwise feel long and isolated for each patient statically waiting for improvement, visitors or meds. It's providing a breathing space from discomfort and watching the notes gently fall on a patients ears heart and soul like raindrops of compassion that they respond to with a smile possibly for the first time in days or even weeks. It's playing for a patient who appears to be not responding to the music for weeks because they are unable to and going in another week to find them full of life and gratitude for the music they heard whilst they were in a really dark place. It's the kindness shared by the nursing staff and it's always fun when they start singing along with the songs on the wards.

I know there are still deeper layers to this work I am opening up for and I welcome letting the music do the talking in areas that help people to feel better. This is work I miss so much right now. It makes my heart happy - sad - happy to be able to navigate these waters with patients through music. I have gone home and bawled my eyes out sometimes, unpacking all the moments and sending my prayers out for each person I play for. Music really is Medicine. Music Is The Language Of The Soul. It's a life changing turn on the wheel for me and music, one of which I appreciate so much.