On jazz, Jerry Garcia, and the perspective that therapy can make possible.
Adapted from a piece written about a decade ago for my psychology master’s program applications, on pursuing therapy as a career.
I’ve always been more of a “music guy” than a “lyrics guy.” In fact, one might go as far as to say that I have a lyric deficiency. It’s a product of my upbringing. In retrospect, I’m certain my father is to blame for that lot in life.
I grew up the son of a rabbi with a jazz problem. By an early age, my father had made it his mission to see that I was getting a basic education in all things jazz. Charlie Parker, Buddy Rich, Stan Getz, J.J. Johnson, Cannonball Adderley—these were the guys playing music in my house. If there were singers involved, you can bet they were scatting.
I was influenced enough by this whole scene that by age ten I picked up a saxophone myself. I got quite good at it and eventually played my way through a pretty well-respected university jazz program. Twenty years later, I find myself more often listening to music than performing, but those early experiences conditioned me in an irrevocable way such that decades later, my focus is always on what the musicians are doing behind the lyrics. It’s just how my brain works.
There is one time when that all changes—as spring turns to summer each year and my thoughts to Jerry Garcia. When Jerry’s August 1st birthday rolls around, my San Francisco music-loving community comes alive on their social media with birthday wishes, old pictures and videos, invitations to meet up for “Jerry Day” at McLaren Park for a free concert, and great music memories we’ve been fortunate enough to share together.
I relate to Jerry first and foremost as an improvisational musician. Yet, the lyrics and poetry about love, compassion and spirituality that bubble up from my community at this time of year tempt me to explore a deeper connection with the music than my conditioning typically allows. As Jerry reminds us:
“Once in a while you get shown the light, in the strangest of places if you look at it right.”
— Robert Hunter
Like many musicians and San Franciscans before me, I’ve often daydreamed about what it would be like to be Jerry Garcia. After much internal deliberation, I’ve accepted those will likely have to remain daydreams for this lifetime. That said, I will always carry the lessons of his music with me.
When I first began my own therapy work, it indeed felt like the strangest of places. Over the years, the most impactful therapists were the ones who helped me find safety, develop the courage for self-exploration and discover new perspectives from which to engage with the world. Now, as I take my first step into the role of therapist, my intention and hope is to be able to create the same for others so they too may have the opportunity to get shown the light through their own process. Who knows—maybe I can be Jerry after all.
