Today, I got to participate in a sound bath at a skilled nursing facility, led by Jane Gerughty, a facilitator from Music Mends Minds.
If you’re not familiar with Music Mends Minds, it’s a nonprofit organization that provides musical support groups to adults with dementia, Alzheimer’s, and other neurological disorders. Their programs are based on numerous studies showing the many benefits of musical experiences, especially for those with neurodegenerative conditions. These include improvements in memory, mood, mobility, attention, and executive function.
The executive director of Music Mends Minds, John Kander, is passionate about the power of music. When we originally hired Jane to lead of series of drum circles at our library, he reached out to let me know that he is always happy to seek out funding from local Rotary Clubs and even insurance providers to bring similar programs to senior facilities of all types. Our Friends of the Library had already agreed to pay for Jane to lead a program at the skilled nursing facility every other month, but it was nice to know that there were alternative funding options.
One of my coworkers usually accompanies Jane, but she wasn’t able to go today, so I got to cover for her. I was already familiar with the facility, because I lead a ukulele sing-along there once a month with the help of a retired former coworker. The sound bath was held in the dining room, and I was happy to recognize a lot of the residents.
Jane started by handing out a variety of percussion instruments, including maracas, bells, and chimes. She asked one of the staff members to dim the lights, and then she played instrumental music on a small speaker. She herself played several different singing bowls and a vibra-tone, sometimes carrying them around for people to feel the vibrations.
At first, the residents seemed a little hesitant and curious, especially the ones who were new to the facility, but within the first couple of minutes, they almost all started to play along on whatever instrument they had in front of them. The music started out slow and quiet, and gradually became faster and more rhythmic.
I was astounded to look at the clock and realize that 45 minutes had already passed, and everyone was still happily shaking their maraca, tapping their güiro, or playing their chimes. It didn’t matter what or how they played. It all somehow magically fit. At one point, Jane led everyone in a sort of percussive conversation: she tapped a wooden instrument three times, and we all tapped or shook our instruments back three times, over and over for the length of a song.
The whole hour-long experience was incredibly relaxing, and everyone seemed engaged. This was wonderful to see, especially because the community at the facility is extremely diverse, with people from all different backgrounds. When we do the monthly sing-alongs there, we try to accommodate requests (my favorite was the woman who asked us to play Purple Rain on the ukulele!), and I am often moved to tears to hear people singing along to the old songs they love. But we can’t perform a favorite song for everybody. There’s a friendly man from Tonga with limited knowledge of English who always says “Happy! Happy!” when we play. I would love to include a song for him, but I don’t even know how to ask him for a title. But the music we made together in the sound bath was for everyone.
Afterwards, Jane told me that this was the third or fourth time she had led the residents there in a sound bath. She typically brings djembes and other drums for them to beat out patterns together in a drum circle, but she said, this group especially likes the maracas and other small instruments.
Our library outreach to the skilled nursing facility isn’t limited to musical events. One of my coworkers also leads a monthly “storytime” there. She usually brings a slideshow of photos and videos related to a particular topic, and invites the residents to share whatever memories the slideshow invokes with her and with each other.
We also provide a satellite library, a small collection of books and other materials checked out an account tied to the facility. One of my coworkers refreshes the collection once a month, often bringing items that the residents request, and we don’t require the facility to keep track of them.
Several of my coworkers also provide outreach to other locations that serve older adults, including our local Senior Center, and two other senior-living facilities. One of our library aides plays classical pieces on the violin, while her grandfather accompanies her on the cello. Other staff bring books, DVDs, laptops and hotspots for people to check out, and teach small groups how to access e-books and audiobooks with their library cards through Libby and Hoopla.
Public transportation is a huge issue in our coastside town, so bringing programs and resources to the places where seniors are feels especially important. I also just finished reading the book Being Mortal by Atul Gawande, about how aging and dying are managed in our culture. I was deeply inspired by all of the people he profiled who found ways to support older adults in meaningful ways.
I’ve often thought there is so much more we could offer, especially for residents of skilled nursing facilities. I would love to help them video chat with loved ones, or set-up a program where volunteers could read to them individually. Partnerships with other local organizations, like local performing arts groups, crafting groups, Humane Society volunteers with therapy animals, or even something like an adopt-a-plant program sponsored by the community garden would also be amazing.
I would love to hear about what libraries and organizations are doing to support older adults in other communities, so please share any programs or services you’ve been offering in the comments below.
