Singing as medicine: Why using your voice matters during life’s difficult moments
When the world feels heavy—marked by grief, uncertainty, injustice, or exhaustion—it can be tempting to retreat into silence. Many of us ask, What difference can my voice possibly make right now?
But across cultures, history, and neuroscience, one answer continues to emerge: singing is not frivolous in hard times—it is fundamental.
Singing is a deeply human technology for regulation, connection, and resilience. Especially during periods of collective struggle, it can be a powerful therapeutic tool—not because it fixes everything, but because it helps us stay with ourselves and each other.
Singing Regulates the Nervous System
When we sing, we slow and lengthen the breath. This alone has profound effects.
Singing gently stimulates the vagus nerve, which supports the parasympathetic nervous system—the part of us responsible for rest, digestion, and recovery. In practical terms, this means singing can:
Reduce stress hormones like cortisol
Lower heart rate and blood pressure
Help shift us out of fight-or-flight and into a state of safety
In times of collective crisis, many people live in a near-constant state of nervous system activation. Singing offers a somatic (body-based) pathway back toward regulation—without needing to “think” our way there.
The Voice Is Tied to Identity and Agency
Your voice is not just a sound—it is an extension of your sense of self.
In moments when people feel silenced, marginalized, or powerless, the act of vocalizing can restore a sense of agency. Singing reminds us:
I am here.
I can take up space.
I can express something true.
This is especially important during collective struggle, when external forces often attempt—explicitly or subtly—to shrink voices. Singing becomes an embodied refusal to disappear.
Singing Creates Belonging (Even When We’re Apart)
Humans evolved to sing together. Long before written language, singing was how communities bonded, mourned, celebrated, and coordinated.
Research shows that group singing:
Increases oxytocin (the “bonding hormone”)
Synchronizes heart rates and breathing patterns
Reduces feelings of loneliness and isolation
In times of collective challenge—whether social, political, environmental, or personal—singing reminds us that we are not alone in our experience. Even when done virtually or in separate spaces, shared songs can foster a felt sense of togetherness.
This is why songs become anthems during movements, vigils, and moments of collective grief. They carry what words alone cannot.
Singing Helps Us Process Grief and Complexity
Not everything we experience can be neatly explained or resolved. Singing allows us to hold paradox: sorrow and hope, rage and tenderness, exhaustion and endurance.
Unlike spoken language, singing:
Accesses emotion without requiring linear logic
Allows expression without needing answers
Gives shape to feelings that might otherwise stay stuck
In therapeutic contexts, singing can gently bypass intellectual defenses and reach deeper emotional layers—making it a valuable tool for processing collective trauma.
You Don’t Have to Sing “Well” for It to Work
One of the biggest myths that stops people from singing is the idea that it’s only for the talented.
From a therapeutic standpoint, there is no such thing as a useless voice. The benefits of singing do not depend on pitch accuracy, tone quality, or range. They depend on participation.
Humming counts. Singing quietly counts. Singing alone in your car counts. Singing with others—off-key and wholehearted—counts deeply.
Singing as a Practice of Resistance and Care
In difficult times, singing can be both soft and radical.
It is soft because it soothes, comforts, and restores.
It is radical because it insists on humanity, creativity, and connection in systems that often prioritize productivity, silence, or despair.
Singing may not save the world—but it helps us save ourselves from numbness, which is often the first thing we lose in prolonged struggle.
An Invitation
If things feel overwhelming right now, consider this not as a performance goal, but as an act of care:
Sing one song you loved as a child
Hum while making dinner
Sing with a friend, a class, or a community
Let your voice sound exactly as it does today
Your voice is not extra. It is essential.
And in times like these, using it—gently, honestly, imperfectly—is one way we remember how to keep going.
