The Therapeutic Power of Singing

Lately, I’ve been reconnecting with the many reasons that singing is one of the most powerful resources in my toolkit. I’d like to share these reasons with you, in the hope of inspiring motivation, or at least curiosity about the power of song and voice.

I’m one of those stereotypical multi-hyphenates – an ‘elder millenial’ with a list of freelance job titles. As I’ve developed my business, I’ve sometimes found myself sidelining the voice related aspects of my work in favour of what seem like the more ‘serious’ things that I offer (consultancy and facilitation, executive coaching). It seems that there’s been a stubborn kernel of unconscious bias hanging around in my psyche. Perhaps at some point, I’ve swallowed a bit of someone else’s belief that singing is a nice, but frivolous thing to do. “It’s all very well holding hands and singing Kum Ba Yah, but now let’s get on with the real work…”

But I know that this view is completely at odds with my experience. I’ve been singing since I was a small child – many years of choirs, vocal coaching, competitions, recitals, song circles, pub gigs, festival gigs, protest blocs, tours, voice retreats, vocal rehab and the rest. Most of these experiences have helped me to express and process emotion, connect with myself and others and get calm and grounded. And knowing that these positive impacts are available to just about anyone motivates me to share them.

There’s something fundamentally human about singing. I’m not aware of any cultures in the world that don’t have music/singing (regimes that forbid music as a form of religious or political control notwithstanding). The variations in pitch and different voice qualities involved in singing tend to offer an opportunity to feel and express emotion more acutely than we might when we speak. The long, controlled exhale we tend to use when singing helps to re-regulate and soothe an over- or under-stimulated Autonomic Nervous System. And something in the predictability of melody helps to convey a message to our pattern-seeking brains in a way that’s especially memorable. The beauty of all of this is that it can work whether or not the singer is trained, can stay on pitch or feels confident in their abilities. In fact, a psychologically safe enough environment and an embodied approach to singing can support someone who is experiencing a ‘freeze’ response or veering wildly off pitch to make progress with these issues.

If that’s not enough to convince you to seek out your nearest community choir (or attend one of my workshops), here’s a breakdown of some of the specific ways that singing can be transformative.

1.     Singing to express, process or shift emotions:

One of my supervisors wrote a PhD thesis on singers’ psychology, having noticed that her voice students would often sing what they couldn’t find a way to say. Many vocal coaches keep a box of tissues in their teaching room, ready to dry tears. In vulnerable, emotionally connected performances, we ideally want the singer to have shed any tears in advance and retained enough emotion on-stage to help the audience to connect to their own feelings. But of course, that’s not to say that singing is always heavy or painful. We might sing to express joy, love, anger, power or just about any other emotion imaginable. And we might use music to shift our mood or lift the energy in a space. Singing is a physical activity that requires muscular support, full diaphragmatic breathing and the release of unnecessary tension. This, combined with our connection to lyrics and certain voice qualities (such as the ‘sob’ sound) can help us to ‘shake loose’ emotions that might feel stuck or overwhelming.

2.     Singing as a grounding or meditative practice:

Singing is a form of bodywork in itself. There are so many physical processes at play when we sing, and noticing what we’re feeling in our bodies can offer a sense of grounding in the here and now, as well as helping to train the voice. Noticing where we can feel the sound vibrating in the body can feel particularly soothing for many people – I like to imagine that it’s similar to cats purring to heal themselves (though I don’t intend for this to be read as scientific fact!) Something that does have a basis in scientific research, however, is the established impact of chanting as part of meditation practice. Using repetitive, sung words/phrases or humming as part of meditation has been shown to reduce stress, anxiety and hypertension. I am a big fan of using humming as a vocal warmup and grounding exercise ahead of potentially challenging meetings and presentations.

3.     Singing as protest/political voice:

Like many others, I’ve often felt overwhelmed and powerless in the face of world events (most recently, the horrific situation in Gaza). But I’ve found it cathartic and powerful getting together with others at protests, rallies and private gatherings to sing songs that remind us of our common humanity and call for peace. I’m certain that, for as long as we’ve had language, people have sung songs to tell the stories of those who have been silenced, to express collective traumas and to call others to action. At a recent gathering, a contemplative song sung by a small group in a large crowd drew in a lot of attention and helped people to express their feelings. Meanwhile, world famous artists can use their platform to raise awareness and solidarity for the causes that matter to them.

4.     Singing to connect with others:

When we sing, we’re potentially making ourselves vulnerable – it’s exposing. This is a large factor in many people’s horror at the idea of anyone hearing them sing. But it’s also part of the reason that it’s such a powerful way to connect with people and build community. When we sing together, we can share an experience of collectively creating a sound, potentially synchronising our breathing and tuning into each other. It’s a real bonding experience, and  -as with the concept of singing as protest above – it can remind us of our collective power. I’ve often run ‘singing for wellbeing’ programmes for people who have found themselves in the most challenging situations (homelessness, seeking asylum, serious illness). And much of the feedback from participants has focused on the importance of the collective experience of singing – being witnessed as they took up space, made noise and expressed emotion. A 2013 study showed that choir members’ heartbeats could synchronise with each other as they sang (with more structured music showing more significant evidence of synchronisation). The feeling of being part of a huge wall of sound while singing in a large choir, and the feeling of instinctively harmonising in a small group are some of my favourite experiences – I can’t quite find a way to describe or compare them to anything else.

So, with all that in mind, I’m ready to throw out the last vestiges of discounting the importance of singing. And if you’re ready to find out more, drop me a message or check out my next embodied voice and breath workshop here.

Performance Anxiety Part 1: How to shine in performance and presentation

As a coach and facilitator, I support people who feel uncomfortable with being seen and heard. People who might panic or freeze when the stakes are high and they’re required to give a performance in front of others, whether on stage, in the board room or on a conference call. In this post, I will offer some suggestions, points to reflect on and tools that could help you to feel calm enough to really shine in a performance, interview, audition or presentation. This is not a comprehensive list, because everyone is different and an approach tailored to each individual is far more effective than a generic one. Rather, I’m offering some tried and tested methods to get you started.

Part of what led me to this work was my own experience of performance anxiety as a young person. Some of my earliest memories are of myself as a young child, assembling any adults who happened to be around to watch me put on a show. It might have involved singing, dancing, acting or doing gymnastics all over the furniture, and it might have been a solo show, an ensemble piece with friends or a full-on cabaret in several acts. The adults in my life patiently indulged my high energy and regular requests to be seen and heard, and provided a safe environment in which to develop my performance chops. When I ventured further out into the world and had to audition for parts and places in the music world, I discovered what a less nurturing environment could do to my ability to give my best performance. From a fairly young age, I noticed the difference between performances where I felt comfortable and those where the fear of judgement or failure took over and had me shaking, losing control of my breath and sounding timid. Auditions, exams and competitions had wildly inconsistent outcomes for me as a result, and there wasn’t much in the way of support with managing ‘nerves’. This was just something young performers were supposed to be able to figure out by ourselves if we wanted to succeed. Things worked out well for me in the end though – I discovered performance psychology and a range of resources to help people to stay calm and grounded enough to deliver a great performance, whether it’s a work presentation or pitch, an audition, a show or a public speaking engagement. I’ve seen and experienced the difference that getting performance anxiety under control can make – most of us know what we’re capable of when we believe nobody is watching or listening, compared to what can happen when we’re in the spotlight. That speech was word perfect in the mirror this morning, but now that you see everyone watching, your mind’s gone blank. You’d give Whitney Houston a run for her money when you sing in the shower, but you believe you could never reproduce that performance for an audience. And that’s why I want everyone to be equipped with the tools they need to show people what they’re really capable of. So, here are some tips and points to reflect on as you prepare for a presentation or performance situation that’s causing some anxiety.

-Ground yourself:

Being grounded means connecting with your body to help you re-regulate your Autonomic Nervous System and prevent you dissociating (feeling disconnected from your body, spaced out, losing contact with ‘here and now’ reality) or freezing. Top tips to support this include pushing your feet into the floor, diaphragmatic breathing and taking a moment to get into a stance that feels open, upright, solid and moveable. Connecting with your environment also helps with grounding – you might want to do something like taking a moment to find three things in the space that are a specific colour, for example.

-An interview/audition is a two-way street:

You may have done your research and concluded that this organisation and role are perfect for you, and this may or may not turn out to be the case. Situations where things look ‘great on paper’ but don’t feel quite right when you meet and check each other out apply equally to those being assessed and those doing the assessing. If, beyond the discomfort of feeling nervous about the process itself, something feels a little ‘off’, it’s worth paying attention to your gut feeling, reflecting on what might be behind it, and – if possible/appropriate – asking questions to see if the answers reassure you. In some industries, most notably in highly competitive ones such as performing arts, people can be made to feel powerless until they reach a level of success that allows them to make choices and demands. For competitive roles, a sense that ‘if you don’t like the way things are done, there are thousands of other hopefuls for us to choose from’ is an old adage that needs to be consigned to history. There is increasing pressure on leaders to improve working conditions and recruitment practices or face difficulties in filling roles and pushback from the workforce further down the line. No matter what the industry or environment, abusive, humiliating or discriminatory behaviour are unacceptable. We all have more power than we are led to believe, and I’d argue that it’s usually worth holding out for a place where you feel welcome, valued and listened to.

-Develop a system that works for you:

Most people who often or occasionally struggle with performance anxiety develop an awareness of how that shows up for them and what’s most likely to happen if they get overwhelmed. A common example is forgetting words or lyrics, or ‘drawing a blank’ when asked a question you’d usually be able to answer. There may be physical discomfort in the form of shaking, nausea, feeling faint or muscle tension, and the realisation that some of these are visible to the audience can send you into a spiral of worry, shame and self-criticism about how they are being perceived. You might find that your mouth gets so dry, you can barely speak. So, the first step here is to spot any patterns – you might want to document your various performance experiences in a journal, where you note how you felt, what the environment was like, how you were responded to and your overall sense of how it went. If you were so overwhelmed that there are parts of a performance or presentation you don’t remember, this is useful information to note too. Once you have built up a sense of any patterns, triggers and insights, you can start to match your tools to your needs. It might be helpful to do this with the support of a coach, but otherwise, you can develop systems that help you to jog your memory, stay hydrated, keep your blood sugar stable etc. according to your needs. I sometimes like to write words or lyrics out ahead of a singing performance to remind myself of them, and because the physical act of writing them seems to help me connect with them. What would work for you? Treat it like a scientific experiment.

-Reasonable adjustments:

Where possible and necessary, don’t be afraid to ask for what you need. That might involve letting an interviewer know you need a moment to settle yourself before you respond to a question, developing a backstage ‘ritual’ with a friend to help you get calm or letting an organisation know about any accessibility needs you may have. Bear in mind that any reasonable adjustments related to disability, neurodivergence or diagnosed mental health issues legally have to be met in a workplace context. If you anticipate feeling overwhelmed by a presentation or interview in the workplace, consider scheduling before and after the event – is there anything you can do or request in order to give you some calm time and space to prepare and to decompress?

-Harness the adrenaline:

It’s become a cliché to say ‘use the nervous energy to your advantage’, and that’s not helpful when the fight/flight/freeze response and stress hormones seem to have taken over your entire being… But if you can learn to calm your system, you’ll be able to think clearly, connect more effectively with your audience and perhaps experience the nervous energy as excitement, rather than terror. Often, different but related emotions have similar physical sensations attached to them. How we interpret those sensations makes a difference to how our emotional state develops. There’s a symbiotic relationship between thoughts, physical sensations and emotion – we can influence our thinking and emotions by tuning into and adjusting our body’s responses (e.g. by slowing our breathing), and we can influence our emotional and physical response using our thoughts (e.g. by realising that some of what we’re calling ‘anxiety’ might be ‘excitement’). Learning to tune into what our bodies are telling us and developing ways of soothing the body and mind gives us a whole menu of options to help us deal with a stressful, scary or exposing situation like trying out or interviewing for our dream role. Crucially, practicing techniques that help you to re-regulate your nervous system when you don’t need them means that you’ll respond more quickly and effectively in the moment when you’re heading towards overwhelm. So, incorporating grounding and calming techniques into your regular routine means that they’re much more likely to work if and when you find yourself in front of an audience or panel with a sudden feeling of panic.

Good luck, and I’d love to hear how you get on with these tips. You can let me know, or set up an exploratory call by contacting me here.

The Psychology of Voice

Or ‘The Courage to be Heard and Understood’.

When I talk about ‘the psychology of voice’, people may hope or expect to learn tactics for being heard, understood and ‘taken seriously’, based on studies that show which pitch, accent, body language or tone audiences best respond to. I believe there may be value in taking time to consider how we may be coming across when we communicate, but I do not offer tips and tools that promise to endow you with an air of authority, confidence or persuasiveness. My passion lies in wholehearted, authentic communication. I’m a Performance Psychology practitioner – I specialise in voice and communication, trauma recovery, relationship and a body psychology approach to wellbeing. 

When I think of ‘voice’, I think about being heard, speaking out against things we find unacceptable, advocating for ourselves or others, performing or presenting in front of an audience, and vocal technique (be it for speaking or singing). Things that can get in the way of any and all of these include the stories we tell ourselves about who we are, the messages we received from our parents or caregivers, how we are feeling physically and how safe we feel in the environment in which we are attempting to be heard. It’s impossible to truly separate the mental, emotional and physical aspects of voice. This is one of the reasons I’m so fascinated by it. The voice is the interface between the internal and external worlds*. A thought is an internal process, but when we decide to speak that thought, express that emotion, it exists outside of our body. Can you think of a time when you wanted to cry but made the decision to try fighting back the tears? Felt that ‘lump in the throat’ feeling as you attempted to swallow your feelings because it didn’t feel safe or socially acceptable to let them out? This is an example of how our emotions, vocal apparatus and communication interact with each other.  

How safe we feel and our self-talk has an impact on what comes out of our mouth and how. Before I understood the ‘how’ and ‘why’ of this, I experienced it first-hand. As a teenager, I was training in classical singing. Though I was a born performer with a flair for the dramatic, I suffered terribly with performance anxiety (a term I was not familiar with at the time – back then, we just called it ‘nerves’ and were encouraged to ‘toughen up’). The more formal the environment, the more nervous I became. My breathing became erratic and my voice shook fearfully. On a number of occasions, I auditioned for roles that allowed me to show a more playful, exuberant side. I remember Directors expressing shock at the sudden transformation – meanwhile, I thought ‘this is how I really sound!’  

Years later, disaster struck. A perfect vocal storm, involving a bad bout of bronchitis, a load of unprocessed trauma and a lack of rest, led to me completely losing my voice. A combination of surgery, vocal rehabilitation, breath work and Performance Psychology support helped me to find it again. A key aspect of this was the building of solid therapeutic relationships. I had to trust the people coaching me through this recovery with some of the things most precious to me: my emotions, stories and voice. This is something I hold in mind as a coach – I remember how vulnerable I felt and how important it was to be treated with care. 

As I learned about what was stopping me from expressing myself fully, the first lesson was about ‘body armour’. We tense and brace our bodies when we feel threatened, and often, we don’t let that tension go. Fear had me tied in knots, so tense that I struggled to express myself. To use our voices clearly, we need the support of our diaphragm and core muscles, and a steady flow of breath. The tension we carry in our neck, jaw, throat, chest and shoulders when we are stressed, anxious, scared or under pressure can seriously inhibit this.  

I went on to explore the ‘unsaid’. What were the things I did not feel safe enough to say? What messages had I received as I grew up about the acceptability of particular emotions? What did I tell myself when I felt those emotions and how did my body respond? Making sense of what was going on under the surface yielded surprising results, and the improvements in my communication were tangible.  

I re-built my performing experience from scratch – starting with audiences of people with whom I had built relationships of trust and moving on from there. Vocally, I am still more sensitive than I once was to physical, emotional or environmental changes, but this is often as much of a gift as it is a curse. My voice lets me know what I need, and perfectly communicates how I am feeling.  

What I experienced, and what I went on to learn in years of training is that being heard and understood requires the courage to be vulnerable. This courage can come partly from trust – both in yourself and the people around you. But sometimes, there won’t be a ‘safe person’ in the room with you at a time when you need to use your voice to speak up. There are ways to boost feelings of internal safety – though the specifics are different for everyone, I suggest starting with breathing ‘in your belly’ (i.e. using your diaphragm), grounding your feet and consciously releasing tension from your shoulders, neck and jaw. Communicating wholeheartedly, honestly and boldly is a skill you can keep developing: ‘speak your truth, even if your voice shakes’.  

For support with any of the issues mentioned here, please contact me. If you have concerns about your vocal health, talk to your GP first.  

*See ‘The Singer’s Psyche’ - research by Dr. Denise Borland for more on the psychology of voice.