Sarah Pearson • March 3, 2015
The Ocean Drum
One of the most popular instruments I use in my music therapy practice is the ocean drum. Working in oncology and palliative care with patients and families affected by cancer, I find that the ocean drum is one of the most effective and unintimidating instruments to hand someone. It makes a big impact on the environments we play it in: both patients and co-workers often ask me where they can get their own ocean drum, so that they can play it at home to “relax.”
The ocean drum is a round, see-through frame drum, filled with ball bearings that sound like ocean waves when you move it back and forth. There is no “correct” way to play it, and it can produce many sounds. It can be shaken to sound like turbulent storms, tilted steadily to produce long pebbled surf, or held still to create the faintest whisper of water lapping the shore.
While music therapists will use the ocean drum for specific clinical and/or psychotherapeutic goals, I believe that the ocean drum can be used in all sorts of creative ways for self-care or caring for others.
Here are five reasons why I believe the ocean drum can promote wellness:
- The ocean drum is whole : there is something grounding about holding a round instrument. I often hand the ocean drum to someone who appears agitated or distressed. Simply holding the round frame can yield a centering effect on the person playing it.
- The ocean drum is responsive : Ocean sounds are created by the ball bearings in the drum, which are magnetic and respond to both gross or fine motor manipulation. The ocean drum responds to the subtlest movements and bodily rhythms. Even when we sit still with the drum, or lay it on the belly of someone sleeping, the ball bearings will gently move. It responds to the environment it is in.
- The ocean drum is organic : the sound of water is universally resonant for humankind. The sound of the ball bearings remind most people of water and waves, or for some, the wind in the trees. These organic sounds produce a centering effect on listeners, stimulate memories of being outdoors, and can be inherently wellness-producing.
- The ocean drum is captivating : watching the drum being played is hypnotic. It is hard to play it and not feel consumed by the movement of the ball bearings and the responsiveness of the waves. Likewise, when we are watching or nearby someone playing it, it is hard not to be impacted by the organic sounds of water and wind, and sense how it can instantly transform the space.
- The ocean drum is contained : the ocean drum is a virtual tempest in a teapot. We can create sounds of a stormy sea but still have it held inside the round sturdy frame of the drum. We can create the most tranquil waves in the midst of a chaotic care space. Whatever sentiments we want to express through the ocean drum, we can do it in a contained way, and in the palms of our hands.
Here are some suggestions for using the ocean drum in care practice, particularly when caring for people in end-of-life care or with dementia:
- Use it as a stress-relieving tool, like a stress-ball, giving it to agitated or anxious care receivers to play.
- Incorporate it into any mindfulness activities or self-care programs for staff, by playing it as an opening meditation or passing it around for participants to play.
- Give it to a person with dementia to play for sensory stimulation.
- Play it to stimulate a discussion about reminiscence – what does the sound of the drum remind you of? If you play it in different ways does it remind you of different places, people or times?
- Put on some music you and/or your care receiver find relaxing, and play the ocean drum along to it. Create your own ambient spa music!
You can find the ocean drum at any major instrument store. It is suitable for people of all ages.
Sarah Pearson is a music therapist working in oncology and palliative care in Kitchener, ON . She is the Program Development Coordinator for the Room 217 Foundation and Lead Facilitator of the Music Care Certificate Program.
I undertook the MUSIC CARE Certification program when I had journeyed through caring for my mother with Alzheimer’s. It was during my training, I learned how music works in terms of timbre, melody and rhythm and beat, music care domains and music care strategies. It helped me to support mom as the disease progressed. I continued to certify through Music Care and then I had the joy of teaching others the level 1 program Fundamentals of Music Care Theory and Context . I have loved coming alongside others in Long Term Care and using music to support giving voice of what is within one’s life, preventing isolation and loneliness, creating community. I enjoyed all it all. Then, I found myself once again in the Emergency Room with Tim, (my family member) as we were helping him home in his palliative journey. My “outside life” took a back seat and my inside hospital life began. Tim’s was failing and he was no longer able to open his mouth and swallow to obtain nutrient’s due to Parkinson’s . We tried various types of foods, textures and flavours, however, opening his mouth and swallowing remained inaccessible. Tim loved Glen Campbell and Rhinestone Cowboy . When he was a young man, he would repeated play this song until the LP was worn through. He was given a new Glen Campbell CD at Christmas and the song was welcomed back into our lives. There I was ,in my new environment on the tenth floor of the hospital, playing Rhinestone Cowboy. Tim sang along. He actually sang along! He moved his mouth, swallowed and sang along. We were able to get pureed food into his body. Later, the disease continued to ravage his body and Rhinestone Cowboy helped us connected with other such as the speech language pathologist, doctors, cleaning staff and nurses. We sang and danced together with the music and Tim smiled. He knew he was part of a community who loved him. As we knew the end was coming, I played music with a simple melody, 60 beats per minute and soft timbre on my harp to support Tim as he fell into sleep. Near the end, I used tonal music in simple phrases to support calmness matching his breath. Tim passed peacefully and gentle. Today, at his funeral our last song “Rhinestone Cowboy”. After hearing the importance of this song, all the people present joined in singing to honour the village of Tim that so lovingly cared for him. Music Care training has become a natural rhythm in my life to use with aging and sick family members, supporting young children’s learning and providing self-care when I was tired after intense caregiving.
I initially trained with MUSIC CARE to work with Seniors in Long Term Care who were experiencing dementia and Alzheimer’s Disease. This is the path I travelled with my mom. My training with Music Care and Room 217 supported capacity building in selecting music that was played on my harp or chosen recorded music. The music centered on the care of the individual and their specific needs. My job was to determine the individual’s specific and select music to address these needs. The music selected helped to build community, support sleep, talk about life experiences, create a background landscape of sound, support connection to decrease isolation and loneliness, as well as coming alongside people dying. My training with Music Care helped me understand how to support people “where they were” physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Through using beat, tempo, melody, and timbre, I could cater the music and desired support required for individuals or small groups. My profession is teaching. I am a special education teacher and use music in my primary teaching as a method for learning, practicing language skills, transmitting information about science studies or math equations, as well as having fun and creating our own songs. My teacher toolkit married exceptionally well with the knowledge and skills provided by the Music Care Certification training. Recently, my work with students has involved individual programming for the medically fragile children and the palliative children. I use music (repeating the chorus several times) to engage and connect with the kiddos. We use music to "talk" about feelings (our communication is through eye gaze, eye blinks, and squeezing hands), and content material. I use music to enjoy our relationship of being together. At times, due to medication for seizures, my little ones can be very sleepy. I increase the tempo, engaging in tapping the beat on her hands and using silly action songs. The giggles and wiggles make it magical. I also use music to tell stories (my students have CVI, cortical vision impairment, so visual perception is difficult). This helps the child to engage in the story arch and adventures. Music is my conduit for reaching out and being with the students. Recently, I had the sacred journey of visiting one of my children in ICU at Sick Kids. I was invited to come to say "goodbye". A dear friend who was an ICU nurse in a different department told me (AKA, insisted) that I bring my harp with me. I wasn't sure if this would be appropriate for the family. However, with the permission of the mom, I bravely packed my harp up and took it to the Unit. It was a beautiful evening of talking with their mom and dad about how special their child was in my life. I played the kiddo's favorite songs and then ended with "The More We Get Together". The little one opened their eyes and stared at me. We hugged, and I left. They passed the next morning. I consider this time to be a sacred gift. Music Care Certification has given me the confidence and toolset to work alongside people and to journey together. It is a time a beautiful, difficult, or sacred time that I have been honoured to participate in. Thank You
This article was written by Julia Cara, and is part of a series provided by upper year Health Sciences students at McMaster University.
I will never forget the call that came on that cold, crisp January afternoon twenty years ago. I knew it was imminent. I was expecting it and I thought I was ready. But would I ever be ready to say the final farewell to my father?
Poodles skirts, saddle shoes, ducktails and fins on your cars. If these words don’t evoke memories and images from the ‘50s maybe this will:
Ask people what folk music is, and you'll get a variety of answers. Is it about the music? The lyrics? The song's history? According to Wikipedia's entry on folk music , it's all of those things: music that's performed by custom over a long period of time; that has no known composers; and that has been transmitted orally. It can describe the traditions of the "uncultured classes" and definitely means it's music of the people. And because it's been shared orally, it is music that has a place, or is indicative of a community. In some circles, because folk music tells stories about events and history, it's known as world music. In a dissertation, Rachel Clare Donaldson simply stated "Folk music is what the people sing."
As explained in this blog post Not Afraid album, the intent behind the Not Afraid album was not to tell people in hospice palliative care that they needn't be afraid; it was to let them know there are people who love them and are sharing the journey.
Room 217 ’s music was designed for use in palliative care. The music is produced at 60 beats per minute (resting heart rate) which has several benefits for the person receiving palliative care. It also aids others in the circle of care. This link will take you to a report that discusses the benefits of music in hospice palliative care .
Do you remember where you were the first time you heard them? The Beatles? Had you heard them on the radio? Or was your first experience with The Beatles watching the Jack Paar show, or Ed Sullivan?
Room 217’s British Invasion album features 16 tracks of soloists and bands from the U.K. that changed the North American music scene.
