23.7. 1993 Vitoria-Gasteiz / Spain - World Federation of Music Therapy

A container
In which to hold the pain.
When I confront Thomas he has no escape, nowhere to
go. He is unable to interrupt me, push me away, speak
or remove himself. I imagine this must be very painful
for him. All he can ever do is just "Be". My learning from
Thomas is how to just "Be".
There are no words for the sounds and silences
Thomas and I create in our music together. Perhaps his
very silence only shows me the importance of all my
sounds.
I am clear that through music we are in communication
at all times throughout our sessions, on the rare
occasions when I sense Thomas trusts me enough tO
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allow me to communicate with him at the deepest levels,
I will be highly intrusive encouraging him to hold my
gaze. At first it puzzled me as I expected to see in his
eyes a very frightened little boy. Instead I saw a grave,
grey-eyed look that went to my very depths, a
communication like none other.
One part of me wonders whether I have the right to
intrude, demand from this innermost self.
My own view is necessarily subjective and I am unable
to prove anything. How can I possiblv understand the
gargantuan effort Thomas has to make to release his
many layers of defence, one by one, to allow me access
to his wonderful spirit, his cheeky side, his sad side and
his gravity? He, too, will have experienced these sides
of himself, perhaps for the very first time.