TRANSFORMATION OF CHRONIC SORROW THROUGH MUSIC:

AN EVENING WITH JOHN BAYLESS,

INTERNATIONALLY ACCLAIMED PIANIST

PRESENTED BY:

DSPP AND DSPP ARTS

with recognition for her sponsorship to

Diana Meier, Attorney at Law

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

SMU Meadows Museum

Article written and offered for submission on May 20, 2007 by:

Susan Roos, DSPP President, 2006-2007

              This inspirational evening closed the 2006-2007 DSPP program year devoted to the theme of grief and loss. The year unabashedly ended on a high note, all puns intended. Planning for the evening was both exciting and daunting due to budgetary considerations and the relative magnitude of the developmental leap from traditional and proven DSPP and DSPP Arts events to a potentially riskier and multi-dimensionally more imaginative endeavor. The process of bringing this project to fruition was motivated by fear of failure and the power of a dream! As Daedelus must have said to Icarus, who discovered and basked in his love of flying and ascension before plummeting into the sea: “Don’t fly too high, and don’t fly too low.” Miraculously, despite demonic weather conditions surrounding the event, we managed to fly just right.    

              Overview of Chronic Sorrow.  Chronic sorrow refers to frequently unrecognized, misunderstood, common and ongoing grief responses that result from confrontation with the persistent, and often escalating losses that accrue from significant, permanent injury, illness, disability, or progressive deterioration of oneself or a loved one (Roos, 2001, 2002; Roos & Neimeyer, 2007). First introduced in the 1960s by Simon Olshansky (1962, 1966), a rehabilitation counselor, researcher and administrator, the concept referred to pervasive, ongoing, and resurgent grief responses of parents of children with severe and permanent developmental disabilities; e.g., autism, seizure disorders, mental retardation, cerebral palsy, neural tube defects, congenital metabolic disorders, progressive neurological diseases, and so on. Olshansky recognized that, while these parents generally functioned effectively, were devoted to their children and learned how to help them, their sorrow was ongoing since the source of their grief continued without foreseeable end and, moreover, required constant vigilance and frequent adaptations and adjustments.

              Professional interest in chronic sorrow has been increasing since the 1990s, and the concept is currently being usefully applied to a wider range of impairments and diseases throughout the life span; e.g., cystic fibrosis, chronic severe mental illness, spinal cord injury, multiple sclerosis, ALS, brain injuries, Huntington’s, sickle cell, Alzheimer’s, and so on. Although manifested somewhat differently, the concept refers to many persons who are the locus of the loss (self-loss) as well as to those who love and care for them (other-loss). The way the loss is perceived determines the existence of chronic sorrow as well as its extent and severity. Its experiential core is a painful discrepancy between perceptual reality and what continues to be dreamed of (Roos, 2002, 2007). Whether it is the result of self-loss or other-loss, this type of grief is largely disenfranchised (Doka, 2002; Doka & Aber, 1989) such that social support may be meager. Because the person has not died, there is usually no social recognition of the loss and, regrettably, often little recognition of the person who is the source of the loss. There are no rituals, no customary social supports, and no acceptable ways to grieve the loss.

              Chronic sorrow is frequently inaugurated by trauma, whether it is momentous or consists of gradual, incremental concerns that culminate in realization of the loss and its severity. The moment one recognizes that life as it has been and as it was expected to be is forever lost and has been replaced by an initially unwanted, unknown, and often terrifying new reality can be thought of as a psychological emergency (Roos, 2007). The moment preceding such recognition is one that eternity will never return to us. The sudden onset of a chronic sorrow condition disorganizes a self-narrative constructed around assumptions of physical wellness. As Janoff-Bulman (1992) has noted, tragedy forces reappraisal of the very beliefs in life’s predictability and fairness that have defined our existence, as we are confronted by their naivete. The self and the world must be relearned.

              It is likely that the prevalence of chronic sorrow is escalating. As a result of technological improvements in medical care, the life span of extremely low birth-weight infants and persons with many severely disabling conditions is lengthening. Survival rates for stroke victims and persons with major head injuries are increasing. Casualties of war and protracted, large group conflicts throughout the world add to the toll. Particularly in Iraq, because of unusually high survival rates, military casualties involving permanent, extensive disabilities, such as limb amputations and major organ, skeletal, craniofacial, and brain damage, are accruing alarmingly. Due to its increasing prevalence, the need for an understanding of chronic sorrow by all helping professional disciplines has never been greater.

              Overview of Transformation Following Onset of Chronic Sorrow. As succinctly stated by Eric Hoffer, “To dispose a soul to action we must upset its equilibrium” (Dianda & Hofmayer, 1995, p. 132). The loss of the assumptive world that occurs following painful and disconfirming personal crises of illness or other extreme personal trauma may lead to despair, resignation, and ultimate defeat, including suicide. However, it is not unreasonable to think of trauma and loss as a doorway to a new life, a creative restructuring of self, and a new perspective that alters conventional ways of appraising the world and one’s place and purpose in it. Transformation can occur.

              Wade (1998) described personal transformation as a dynamic process of expanding consciousness whereby individuals become critically aware of old and new self-views and integrate these views into a new self-definition. Processes of transformation and self-renewal are extremely complex and uniquely individualistic. Beyond acceptance, restoration of resilience, and transcendence, true transformation involves a shift in being and a self-definition that includes personal agency, but it does not require a change in circumstance. In chronic sorrow situations and in many instances of ambiguous loss, we are unable to put aside the trauma and the sorrow, but the value of these experiences changes. They are no longer festering sores; they are the fuel for what now matters most in our lives. As a consequence, the meaning of our lives precludes a loss of purpose. There is a central, sometimes unarticulated truth contained in the self that mandates faithfulness to it. Having lost our familiar landmarks, a new and relatively fixed point of reference evolves that is often perceived as similar to an internalized safe haven or as bedrock morality.

              The sorrow remains a permanent part of who we are, but it is embraced in the same way our lives and their purpose are now embraced. Pearl Buck, the famous writer, may have said it best. In her book, The Child Who Never Grew (Buck, 1950), about her child with severe developmental disabilities, her “partial answer” to other such parents is expressed as: “Endurance can be a harsh and bitter root in one’s life, bearing poisonous and gloomy fruit destroying other lives…sorrow fully accepted brings its own gifts. For there is an alchemy in sorrow. It can be transmuted into wisdom, which, if it cannot bring joy, can yet bring happiness” (p.5).    

              It has been said that grief is our most available basis for transformation, and it is often thought that relationships are our most frequent source of meaning. In the context of chronic sorrow, it is largely the strength of our dedication and commitment to personal meanings and values derived from the loss of the life we expected (and that life’s forfeited future) that creates a new synthesis that then leads to a changed and integrated self—a self that is perceived as coherent and real. Preventive researchers have identified some human strengths that act as buffers against mental illness; e.g., courage, optimism, interpersonal skill, faith, honesty, perseverance, and the capacity for insight (Seligman, 2002). Yet we do not have a comprehensive understanding of the intrapsychic and interpersonal process of transformation. As professionals, however, we are tasked with how to support and facilitate it. Such a task, either for those with whom we work or for ourselves, will often take us into the realm of soul and mystery. After all, subjectivity does seem to be more than “brain processing.” In many ways, consciousness and the miraculous human capacity for inner experience are inherently mysterious.

              John Bayless and Transformation of Chronic Sorrow Through Music. Bayless is an acclaimed international pianist and composer who has been described by the New York Times as evocative, with a lovely piano sound and considerable personal pizzaz. Hi Fidelity has characterized him as having an extraordinary imagination, sly wit, tremendous musicality, and an imposing technique. He is a graduate of the Juilliard School of Music and has conducted master classes at Juilliard, Kent State University, University of Houston, and the Royal Academy of Music in London. He has received several commissions, including that of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. He has recently played more than 175 performances throughout America, in Italy, Hungary, and Japan. His CDs include The Puccini Album, Bach Meets the Beatles, The Movie Album, Romantica, West Side Story Variations, and more.

              Bayless survived traumatic, life-threatening birth defects and multiple, high-risk surgeries. In the throes of these profound identity disruptions, he “found himself” through discovering the piano at age 3-1/2. His extraordinary talent initiated his development as a pianist and catalyzed his reclaiming of existential meaning and agency. At the beginning of the program, Bayless described the general nature of his congenital complications and how they shattered his security, severely compromised his individuation and separation, and diminished his sense of self worth. Developmentally, at the time he needed to achieve more autonomy and less dependency on his mother, he realistically needed her more. His impression of being “smothered” has understandably continued. At the same time, he recognizes family sacrifices in his behalf and the devotion required of his mother as she dealt with a very sick and very prodigious son. His surgeries and their sequelae created constant anxiety throughout childhood. Both for better and for worse, his sensitivities and vigilance became “wired in,” and he has continued in adulthood to be challenged in coping with anxiety and other persistent, though usually “sub-clinical” trauma symptoms. He meditates daily, often, and long. He uses meditative states to clear blockages of energy that become “stuck in scar tissue.”  

              When asked by someone in the audience about what had sustained him most, Bayless became pensively quiet before responding: “My faith.” He later indicated that he had felt a shift occur when he began to believe in something greater than his own ability as a child or the ability of his family, or even his doctors (though he referred to two of his surgeons as “geniuses.”). In order to glimpse hope for the possibility of being extracted from “the horror,” he had to look to his perception of God and to his understanding of the promise made by Jesus. An impression is that for him, faith is experienced as a grounding force, perhaps even an energy in and of itself, just as love may be thought of as an energy and a source of power and connection to something more than the self. At the same time, it is his faith that has led to trust and a belief in himself as well. It has been primarily through music and his extraordinary skill and creativity that he has been able to transform tragic circumstances into triumph in a more universal sense. It has also been through extremely hard work and dedication that he has found a place on the world stage and in his personal life. As he explained, there have been many days when he simply has not felt well enough to persevere, but he “gets up and does it anyway.”  

              Bayless’s contact with the audience was palpable. He established contact immediately following his entrance by approaching, standing still, and facing all those in attendance as if taking our psychological and emotional pulses. He exhibited a disarming lack of opacity and maintained this connective quality throughout the evening. His performance opened with his arrangement of at least 18 of Mozart’s major motifs. This was a very big and exquisitely impactful piece. It was subsequent to this opening that he engaged in commentary and dialogue that comprised small interludes between pieces. His humor and spontaneity, his authenticity, and his desire for meaningful contact were clearly apparent and deeply engaging. His compositions and his performance were themselves transformative. He is able to work notes into patterns or phrases that are new and exciting, yet faithful to their source. Tempos, nuancing, elongation of tender passages, key changes, mood, fire: they are all there. There is great physicality in some of his great chords, especially those that build upward incrementally, throbbing like a pulsing major artery, evoking imagery of the fullness of life. His program included Rachmaninov, Beethoven, Bach, The Beatles, Bernstein, et cetera. He closed with his translation of several pieces by Puccini, including O mio babbino caro from Gianni Schicchi and the certifiably magnificent Nessun Dorma from Turandot.

              Closing Thoughts. In the midst of massive global destruction, the war in Iraq, the relative silence of the true feminine voice in the world, prejudicial dehumanizing of defenseless people who are merely trying to survive, and world leaders’ deliberate intensification of polarization based on ethnicity and religious beliefs, there is a need for the arts and the generous and creative forces of which humans are also capable. In this context, the Bayless program was a reminder of what is possible and what can evolve from just one life and one transformation. In Bayless’s unique set of circumstances, he appears to engage in a virtually continuous process of both new and old methods of enactment and reconstruction. In his compositions as well as his piano performances, he avails himself of what is, confronting and re-working the “raw materials.” He changes keys and further extrapolates in the service of tone and integration, creating more complexity and nuance. With faith, love, and self-integrity, he ultimately comes out at the other end with new, wondrous, highly dynamic music of great accomplishment and beauty. By going back to basics and giving in to improvisation, magic happens. We then hear and embody things in a new way. We should pay attention to this life lesson.         

References

Buck, P. (1950). The child who never grew. New York: The John Day Co.

Dianda, G. B., & Hofmayer, B. J. (Eds.). (1995). Older and wiser: 716 memorable quotes from those who have lived the longest and seen the most (p. 132). New York: Ballantine Books.

Doka, K., & Aber, R. (1989). Psychosocial loss and grief. In K. Doka (Ed.), Disenfranchised grief (pp. 187-198). Lexington, MA: Lexington Books.

Doka, K. (Ed.). (2002). Disenfranchised grief (2nd ed.). Champaign, IL: Research Press.

Janoff-Bulman, R. (1992). Shattered assumptions. New York: Free Press.

Olshansky, S. (1962). Chronic sorrow: A response to having a mentally defective child. Social Casework, 43(4), 190-193.

Olshansky, S. (1966). Parent responses to a mentally defective child. Mental Retardation, 4(4), 21-23.

Roos, S. (2001). Theory development: Chronic sorrow and the Gestalt construct of closure. Gestalt Review, 5(4).

Roos, S. (2002). Chronic sorrow: A living loss. New York: Routledge.

Roos, S., & Neimeyer, R.A. (2007). Reauthoring the self: Chronic sorrow and posttraumatic stress disorder following the onset of CID. In E. Martz & H. Livneh (Eds.), Coping with chronic illness and disability. New York: Springer.

Roos, S. (2007, in press). Disability, chronic sorrow, and end-of-life decisions. In T. Lillie, & J. Werth (Eds.), End of life issues and people with disabilities. Austin, TX: Pro-Ed, Inc.

Seligman, M. (2002). Authentic happiness. New York: Free Press.

Wade, G. H. (1998). A concept analysis of personal transformation. Journal of Advanced Nursing, 28(4), 713-719.