Hello, my name is Thaddaeus Washington.
My journey to mindfulness started long before I knew what the word meant. I was born to two wonderful parents, Lenny and Linda, and from the very beginning I was a kid full of vigor, energy, spontaneity, and deep curiosity. Eclectic, you could say.
I’ve always loved people: getting to know them, wondering what makes them tick, and figuring out what makes things move.
When Everything Changed
When I was four, my parents divorced. It affected me and my sister, Esther, but I can only speak for myself, and for me the effects were major. I blamed myself because my parents couldn’t stay together. I loved them both equally, but I was a momma’s boy, and the divorce changed how my mom showed up. The emotions she carried toward my dad came out in the way she spoke about him to me.
I was always in trouble for something: too much energy, too curious, too many questions. It seemed like just being Thaddaeus was the problem.
That, among other things, was the beginning of my anger and isolation. I felt like I could never do anything right. I was always in trouble for something: too much energy, too curious, too many questions. It seemed like just being Thaddaeus was the problem.
After the divorce, Esther and I bounced back and forth between Philadelphia, where my mom is from, and Toledo, Ohio, where my dad is from. I remember so many moments from those years of feeling like the problem, misunderstood, alone, like I never fit in, like something was wrong with me. My energy was different, my parents were apart, and there was plenty of tension around it. That was a recipe for a bumpy road.
The Labels
Then came the labels. At age eight I was diagnosed with ADHD. The reports said I had trouble staying on task, that I was disruptive and couldn’t focus like “normal” kids. I was put on meds to help me focus and sleep. I remember the first time the Ritalin set in. I felt like a totally different person. My natural energy was gone. Straight zombie mode, no appetite. But it made my mom, the doctors, and the people at church say, “That’s Calm Thadd. Look at him. That’s a good boy.”
I was a kid full of energy, trying to process the fact that my parents just weren’t together anymore.
I was a kid full of energy, trying to process the fact that my parents just weren’t together anymore. I would go to the doctor, see the therapist, and throw the pills in a trash bag that I emptied every week, acting as if the meds were the reason I was getting better. All the while, I wasn’t taking anything. Instead I was taking the time to process my choices before I made them. Eventually, they decided I didn’t need the meds anymore, though I had stopped taking them two years before.
I’m thankful for my mother, just as I am for my father. They did the best they could to raise me. Are there things I wish had been handled differently? Of course. But I’m grateful, and I carry no bitterness.
Faith
I was raised in church. We went more than anything else: Wednesday night service, Friday night service, Sunday morning, and Sunday night. We were taught to trust in God because He knows all and can handle all. I am very much a Christian, but living life has shown me that there are things we’re equipped to do ourselves, like taking care of ourselves and prioritizing our mental and emotional well-being, when we have the proper tools. Many of us aren’t given those tools, and many don’t have access to them. That’s why I have great respect for doctors, therapists, and everyone in their respective roles who do the real work of helping those who feel helpless.
“Bad Thadd”
From elementary school through my sophomore year of high school, “Bad Thadd” followed me. That’s what I was called. I remember being expelled from my regular school and sent to an alternative school for kids with extreme behaviors. It no longer exists, but at the time it was called Mayfair Achievement Program , on Bennett Road. I remember it like it was yesterday. I had to catch two buses, the 27 to downtown Toledo and then the 17B to the school, and most days we were lucky to make it there without a fight. Getting patted down on the way in was part of the daily routine, because plenty of kids had weapons, cell phones, or sometimes drugs. My vice was my phone.
Through all the trouble, the bumps and bruises, music was the one thing that stayed consistent in my life.
Every student had what was called a mainstream assessment: goals to set, good behaviors to work on, and assessments to pass so we could be mainstreamed back to our regular school. We had to set goals for what we wanted to do with our lives, and one thing I knew was that I wanted to play guitar. Drums were my first instrument, and I learned them in the basement of the Church of the Living God. But my father was an amazing guitar player, and he was my inspiration. When it finally clicked for me at 13 that I wanted to play guitar, I asked my dad to teach me.
Through all the trouble, the bumps and bruises, music was the one thing that stayed consistent in my life. So that became my big goal, and to make a long story short, I hit it. I was mainstreamed, made it out of Mayfair, and got back into the regular school system, though I still had some behavior classes.
It was my junior year when a conversation with my Granny Doris changed everything. The odds still seemed against me, and I might not graduate if I couldn’t stay out of trouble.
She said to me, “Thadd, it’s time to make a choice. Either you’re going to keep going left, or you’re going to go right.” She reminded me of who I was and what I was capable of. I had plenty of support. My dad would always tell me, “Thadd, stay in control. Control your emotions, don’t let them control you, and don’t allow people to push your buttons.” But that conversation with Granny was the game changer.
Music and the Road
I finished high school and went on to do some college. I tried for Mom and Dad’s sake, because that’s what they wanted, but it just wasn’t for me. I wanted to do music and travel, so I did. It took me to so many amazing places. I’ve done some great things with music, played for some great artists, and met many great people along the way.
But after years of playing and traveling, I realized that even though I had found what I loved, I still wasn’t settled within.
Finding Mindfulness
In late 2019, shortly before the COVID-19 pandemic, a mentor introduced me to mindfulness and meditation. I was apprehensive at first, because sitting still with my thoughts was foreign to me. I thought it was impossible. I believed I would just pray and everything would work itself out. She helped me understand there was more I could do. I thought I’d have to become a monk to be still and practice meditation, and she assured me that wasn’t it.
We started with breathing exercises and affirmations, and as I stayed consistent, I began to see the benefits in my life. I felt better. I felt clearer in how I thought about myself and others and how I processed my emotions.
We started with breathing exercises and affirmations, and as I stayed consistent, I began to see the benefits in my life. I felt better. I felt clearer in how I thought about myself and others and how I processed my emotions. It was life-changing. I could actually sit still for 60 seconds and focus on my breath, and if my mind wandered or thoughts came, I learned that was completely normal. It became a daily practice, and then a deeper one, and I started finding creative ways to meditate. Music, of course, and sound came naturally, whether it was through the sounds of nature, in my studio, or with my guitar. I began playing with different sounds and music for my practice, never knowing it would grow into what it is today: MIND Music.
MIND Music
I started creating the music out of necessity. It was something I needed, and for over a year I used it for exactly that. Then, after sharing it with my inner circle and my brother D, I felt it could help others. I released my first meditation album, MIND in November 2022, and the rest has truly been history. From students to staff and teachers, to working with principals, live experiences, and projects, MIND Music has grown into a movement.
This path has led to projects I’m proud of, including Mindful Meetup with the Metroparks Toledo, and the Common Ground albums, Common Ground 1 and now Common Ground 2, recorded on-site in the Metroparks. Each one is another way of doing the same thing: meeting people where they are.
So many people feel tired, overwhelmed, anxious, and unwell in ways they don’t always have words for. I know that feeling, because I lived it long before I had any tools to name it.
Why It Matters Now
We are living in a world full of distractions. We have countless ways to connect, and yet loneliness and disconnection remain very real. We’re more plugged in than ever and somehow lonelier than ever. So many people feel tired, overwhelmed, anxious, and unwell in ways they don’t always have words for. I know that feeling, because I lived it long before I had any tools to name it.
That’s why I believe in what MIND Music can be. For me, it’s become a source of calm and brain food for a mind that’s running on empty. It’s one more tool to meet people exactly where they are and gently guide them back to themselves. I don’t see that as a product. I see it as service for all.
The goal is simple: to make mindfulness accessible to everyone. For me mindfulness is about the ability to be present in the moment, judging nothing, just being, taking time to reset. We do it through music, transparency, rawness, and storytelling.
I don’t come from a place of being an expert. If I’m an expert at anything, it’s staying the course, because life has always been hard, and life will life. My goal is to share my story and help others find their purpose and live and lead better lives, one mindful moment at a time.
