Power Of Music

We find many elements in music that help us get through—comfort, empowerment, reminiscence, and empathy. And most times, we find empathy in melancholic music. "Sad" music can be comforting. 

And why is music an effective therapeutic tool? It gives us what we need when we need it. When I’m asked what I do and I say that I’m a music therapist, many reactions are, “That’s great! Your job is to make people happy!” No… that is not my job. 

My job is to help facilitate music experiences that are most needed in the moment. And working in a hospital setting, especially in oncology, that is often melancholic music. 

I’m a firm believer that sometimes we just need to feel what we are feeling. We need to experience it. 

That is really the first step in moving forward. Call it a release, a cathartic experience, or an outlet for deep inner expression, but what also makes listening to melancholic music therapeutic is that it can provide empathy. Melancholic music can provide a sense that you are not alone in how you are feeling. And that is powerful.

At the hospital where I work as a music therapist, I was recently asked to visit a woman, in her 40s, who was dealing with pain as a result of a form of cancer. 

This was a new diagnosis, so she was dealing with both the physical pain as well as the emotional pain of this life-altering experience. 

When I entered her room, it was quiet and dark. She was lying on her side with her face buried in the pillow. 

I quietly introduced myself and why I was there and suggested I just play some music for her… just for comfort. She barely looked up but shook her head, “Yes.”

As I often do in these situations, I just started playing (improvising) on the guitar—down-tempo, with some light purposeful tension, dissonance, and, well… with a melancholy feel. 

I was working to use the music to "hold" her in the space and offer a soundscape that represented what she was feeling.

After a few minutes, we connected. She started to "release" with some emotion. And the music followed her. We ebbed and flowed together. 

Swells in her emotion were followed by crescendos in the music. 

When she quieted a bit, in support the music calmed. We went on an emotional journey together. 

The music allowed her to experience her inner feelings (and physical pain) and acknowledge them—almost honouring them in a way. She was releasing tension.

For me, one of the most important things I can offer in these moments is presence. My presence and the music’s presence. 

After about 20 minutes, I moved into a pensive version of " Everybody Hurts" (R.E.M.). Now… empathy. When I finished, after a few moments, she looked at me and quietly asked if she could give me a hug. I walked over and as she reached for me, she whispered, “Thank you.”

What is most helpful in the music? Presence. 

My job is about helping you and offering music that gives you what you need. 

Music that offers space and allows you to feel what you need to feel, in the moment. 

And yes, sometimes we need music to energise, to empower, to fight, to celebrate. But it’s always about presence. And it’s always about empathy.

-- Psychology Today