Balancing Time
Starting my full time job in 2012, I felt I had finally arrived. I was self-sufficient, earning money, and finally had insurance! Being employed also made me re-think how I spent my time. Being paid to provide music therapy was a departure from the thousands of hours of practicum, internship, and supplemental volunteering I had done to get certified and start my career. I started putting more boundaries on my time of how it would and would not be spent for music therapy-related endeavors.
My logic went like this (per a lecture from a very libertarian boss from a summer job): Time is the only commodity that everyone has, but we only have a limited amount of it. Money is one way to measure the value of your time (i.e., I give you an hour of my time in exchange for money which is a more liquid representation of the worth of my time). Working a minimum wage job at his bookstore, he very frankly told me that my time was not that valuable…yet. After earning my degree and completing internship, my investment would be rewarded with better compensation.
This also meant (in my mind) that I was off the hook for spending time outside of working hours learning new repertoire or planning sessions. And honestly, I guarded my time because I was tired of not being paid for it. Six months of working free in internship is the norm, but it is most certainly not fair.
In my professional life, this mindset manifested itself in a few ways: I was slow to practice new music outside the designated planning time my job provided and I often left work right on time, when my other co-workers might stay to finish up incidental paperwork or make an extra call. To clarify, I never shirked my responsibilities or came to sessions unprepared. My work was complete and well done. Instead, I was mindful of the boundaries I had placed between my professional and personal time.
Two years later, though, I’m realizing how misguided this logic has been. As a newbie professional, I had not arrived. The first year of music therapy is a tough transition and there was a lot I didn’t know I needed to learn. Away from the support of an internship director and thrown into a completely new population, I had much to learn in how to conduct myself as a professional and what music and interventions would best serve my clients. If anything, this had been the opportunity to invest more of my time into my work, rather than shying away from it. Truth be told, I’ve realized it’s necessary to spend some personal time discovering and planning new session ideas. Otherwise, I don’t feel at the top of my game.
Today, I’m beginning to embrace a more flexible boundary of how I spend my time both in and outside of work. I prioritize the tasks that get done during my official planning time and leave more incidental work for home. For example, I listen to new music at home while doing chores to get the tune in my ear and the right key in my mind, but leave the actual practicing for work. And I’m less strict about staying a few extra minutes to write a case note instead of leaving it for the next morning. It’s all in the name of professional growth.
My perspective of the value of my time, though, has not left me. I still firmly believe music therapists should be mindful of how music therapy is filling their time and whether it is proportional to the compensation they are receiving. Music therapists are generous and constant advocates for the field, but we must be thoughtful and flexible to maintain professional longevity. As in all things, each one of us must find a balance between our personal and professional time.