Danny
Most of my life, I find myself having occasions to be a trusted listener to customers, co-workers, and sometimes complete strangers--people would open up and share their challenges, heartaches, hopes, fears, and ambitions.
It seemed to follow me, these moments when people would connect with me, and I welcomed it and found it rewarding in a way I can't describe adequately.
Right before I graduated from college, I asked one of my professors what kind of careers were available to someone like me. I remember him regarding me for a moment and then telling me I had a gift for poetry and creative writing and said the staff would welcome someone like me as a teacher. I was flattered, but allowed myself to be talked out of it by dad and due to my own lack of belief in myself.
At the time, I was active in the martial arts and admired the energetic teachers who taught me discipline, confidence, and self-respect. Bullied as a child, the martial arts seemed to offer a way to give me a stronger sense of self and I dreamed of someday being able to give that back to others. 10 years later, I had my own karate school. While I enjoyed teaching people, much of the real purpose I found in the work came when my students opened up to me. I shared a little of my history with some and found a bridge of empathy could connect my own path and journey with theirs through dialog, listening, and providing a place in those moments for people to feel safe to express themselves without judgment.
As rewarding as the karate school was, the evening classes stole precious time from my wife and children and with a heavy heart, after a few years, I sold the school. I threw myself into a career in the corporate world, working in technical writing, legal, and IT, but most of the work felt hollow. The only part of the job that gave my life meaning was the moments when co-workers would open up to me.
For nearly 10 years, my wife and I owned a restaurant called Borrowed Earth Cafe. At the restaurant, we not only served healthy food, but we taught classes and gave people a safe place to be. During that time, I began to practice music and sound therapy, at first to help myself relax, but eventually, I began to share with others. I played for people with cancer, PTSD, Parkinson's, Alzheimer's, or just trying to relax. I never charged anyone money, I just did it because it gave me a sense of meaning and purpose. After we closed the cafe, between jobs, I began to play for people as a means of extra money. Before and especially after sessions, people would talk and I think the talking and listening was as important as any relaxation or healing they experienced during the sound and music session.
I engaged the services of a professional who helps people in their careers--either in continuing in the trajectory of their current career or those wishing to set out for parts unknown. She asked me a lot of questions about my previous jobs, trying to hone in on what aspects of my previous employment I had loved in the hopes of helping me find a new career that gave me a deep sense of purpose. I took a battery of personality tests as well as some to determine my strengths and areas of interest. After I got the results back, I waited nearly a week before opening the envelope and reading them. What I saw surprised me, but also confirmed the common thread in all the jobs I'd ever worked and the part of my personal life that had always been there: I was someone people felt comfortable talking to; making myself available to people I this way gave me a sense of purpose and gave my life a deeper meaning.
The tests indicated that my personality, interests, and strengths suited me for a career in counseling, therapy, and education.
Growing up, my parents and teachers prepared me for success, which seemed to center around having financial stability, a home, and the trappings of a life of some means, but in retrospect, few of the people in my life had what I would call real joy. With a few exceptions, young or old, rich or poor, most people I knew weren't what I would call happy. The ones who did seem happy we're the ones who found joy and purpose in their careers and also had made some peace with their past. Many of the friends, family, co-workers, and strangers who I observed and listened to struggled to either block out, anesthetize, or avoid pain and I could identify with them, understand from my own experiences, and have compassion, but more, when I could, I wanted to help.
I enrolled in a Master of Social Work program, worked, got an internship, and before I graduated, the hospital I interned at offered me a job as a case therapist.
Each day, it is my hope that my work will add to my tools and skills to help others and honor the gifts that my interests, passion, and experience have given me.
- Owner of Traditional Sound Therapy
Most of my life, I find myself having occasions to be a trusted listener to customers, co-workers, and sometimes complete strangers--people would open up and share their challenges, heartaches, hopes, fears, and ambitions.
It seemed to follow me, these moments when people would connect with me, and I welcomed it and found it rewarding in a way I can't describe adequately.
Right before I graduated from college, I asked one of my professors what kind of careers were available to someone like me. I remember him regarding me for a moment and then telling me I had a gift for poetry and creative writing and said the staff would welcome someone like me as a teacher. I was flattered, but allowed myself to be talked out of it by dad and due to my own lack of belief in myself.
At the time, I was active in the martial arts and admired the energetic teachers who taught me discipline, confidence, and self-respect. Bullied as a child, the martial arts seemed to offer a way to give me a stronger sense of self and I dreamed of someday being able to give that back to others. 10 years later, I had my own karate school. While I enjoyed teaching people, much of the real purpose I found in the work came when my students opened up to me. I shared a little of my history with some and found a bridge of empathy could connect my own path and journey with theirs through dialog, listening, and providing a place in those moments for people to feel safe to express themselves without judgment.
As rewarding as the karate school was, the evening classes stole precious time from my wife and children and with a heavy heart, after a few years, I sold the school. I threw myself into a career in the corporate world, working in technical writing, legal, and IT, but most of the work felt hollow. The only part of the job that gave my life meaning was the moments when co-workers would open up to me.
For nearly 10 years, my wife and I owned a restaurant called Borrowed Earth Cafe. At the restaurant, we not only served healthy food, but we taught classes and gave people a safe place to be. During that time, I began to practice music and sound therapy, at first to help myself relax, but eventually, I began to share with others. I played for people with cancer, PTSD, Parkinson's, Alzheimer's, or just trying to relax. I never charged anyone money, I just did it because it gave me a sense of meaning and purpose. After we closed the cafe, between jobs, I began to play for people as a means of extra money. Before and especially after sessions, people would talk and I think the talking and listening was as important as any relaxation or healing they experienced during the sound and music session.
I engaged the services of a professional who helps people in their careers--either in continuing in the trajectory of their current career or those wishing to set out for parts unknown. She asked me a lot of questions about my previous jobs, trying to hone in on what aspects of my previous employment I had loved in the hopes of helping me find a new career that gave me a deep sense of purpose. I took a battery of personality tests as well as some to determine my strengths and areas of interest. After I got the results back, I waited nearly a week before opening the envelope and reading them. What I saw surprised me, but also confirmed the common thread in all the jobs I'd ever worked and the part of my personal life that had always been there: I was someone people felt comfortable talking to; making myself available to people I this way gave me a sense of purpose and gave my life a deeper meaning.
The tests indicated that my personality, interests, and strengths suited me for a career in counseling, therapy, and education.
Growing up, my parents and teachers prepared me for success, which seemed to center around having financial stability, a home, and the trappings of a life of some means, but in retrospect, few of the people in my life had what I would call real joy. With a few exceptions, young or old, rich or poor, most people I knew weren't what I would call happy. The ones who did seem happy we're the ones who found joy and purpose in their careers and also had made some peace with their past. Many of the friends, family, co-workers, and strangers who I observed and listened to struggled to either block out, anesthetize, or avoid pain and I could identify with them, understand from my own experiences, and have compassion, but more, when I could, I wanted to help.
I enrolled in a Master of Social Work program, worked, got an internship, and before I graduated, the hospital I interned at offered me a job as a case therapist.
Each day, it is my hope that my work will add to my tools and skills to help others and honor the gifts that my interests, passion, and experience have given me.