What a Musician Taught Me About Mindfulness
Evelyn Reed ยท
Listen to this article~4 min
A Toledo musician's take on music as medicine changed how I think about mindfulness. Here's what his approach teaches busy professionals about slowing down.
Some people find mindfulness on a meditation cushion. Others find it on a long walk, in a quiet kitchen at dawn, or, as it turns out, in a small music studio in Toledo, Ohio. That's where I first encountered the work of Thaddaeus Washington, a musician who's been quietly reshaping how people think about meditation. His story stuck with me. Not because it's flashy, but because it's honest.
Washington is the founder of MIND Music, and he describes his original compositions as meditative practices. Not background music. Not a soundtrack to your yoga flow. Actual medicine for a restless mind. That framing changed something in how I approach my own practice.
### Music as Medicine, Not Decoration
We tend to treat music as filler. Something to fill silence while we work, drive, or scroll. Washington flips that. He asks listeners to sit with a piece the way you'd sit with your breath, noticing how it moves, where it settles, what it stirs up.
It sounds simple. It isn't.
Try it for five minutes. Put on something instrumental, close your eyes, and just listen. No multitasking. No skipping ahead. You'll probably notice your attention drifting within thirty seconds. That drift, that gentle catching yourself and coming back, is the whole practice. Music just gives your mind a softer place to land.
### Why This Matters for Busy Professionals
If you work in mindfulness or well-being, you've heard the same objection a hundred times: *I don't have time to meditate.* I hear it from clients in Chicago, from teachers in Austin, from people juggling three jobs and a family. And honestly? The objection is fair. Sitting still for twenty minutes feels like a luxury when your inbox is on fire.
Here's where Washington's approach earns its keep. Listening is something people already do. You're not asking them to add a new habit. You're asking them to change how they do something they already enjoy.
- Start with three minutes, not thirty
- Choose instrumental music so lyrics don't pull your attention
- Notice one thing: a single instrument, a pause, a shift in tempo
- When your mind wanders, come back without judgment
- Treat it as practice, not performance
That last point matters most. Mindfulness isn't about clearing your mind. It's about noticing when it's full and choosing to return.
### The Quiet Power of Local Voices
What I love about Washington's story is its scale. He's not a celebrity guru with a million-dollar app. He's a working artist in a mid-sized American city, building something thoughtful from the ground up. There's a lesson buried in that, and it's this: mindfulness doesn't require a retreat in the mountains or a $200 monthly subscription.
> "Music is medicine," Washington says, and he means it as a practice, not a slogan.
Sometimes the most accessible tools are the ones already in the room with us. A song. A breath. A few minutes of honest attention before the day starts shouting.
### Bringing It Into Your Own Work
If you guide others toward well-being, consider where music might fit. A short listening exercise at the start of a session. A single track to close a workshop. Something that gives people permission to slow down without feeling like they're failing at meditation.
Start small. Keep it human. And pay attention to what happens when the room goes quiet and the music begins. That's where the real work tends to show up.