I have about 45 playlists housed in my Spotify library, all of which appear to be named after “Inside Out” characters. Happy. Sad. Angry. Annoyed. Excited. Calm. If you can find it on the feelings wheel housed on every school counsellor ‘s desk, you can find it on my queue. A set of songs for everything I could ever possibly feel.

Not only do I have a Fort Knox of emotionally expressive gold, but I have an entirely different collection of songs for potential life circumstances, both reoccurring and momentarily specific. My musical bank is filled with playlists for times of grief, break-ups, new relationships and “mad at parents.” You can even find a set of songs that can only be played in a car, a light sprinkling of rain outside the passenger’s seat window. My life is invariably accompanied by a soundtrack perfectly suited to each scene.

This is not, however, anything special. I am not a music-junky nor do I possess any inherent musical talent. I am merely human. Music has served as a powerful form of emotional expression for humankind since the beginning of time. Drawings have been found on the walls of ancient caves, depicting cavemen in song. The Pythagorean School in Ancient Greece taught musical performance rooted in the belief that “music can guide and purify the soul.” Beginning in the early 19th century the age of Romanticism disseminated the concept that music was the “ultimate language of the emotions.” In 2024, we have AirPods, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and Phoebe Bridgers.

Music therapy is a beautiful practice, enhanced by its widespread accessibility. Whether one makes a monthly payment to the lovely people at Spotify or simply sings their little song walking down the street, music can be found both around us and inside us. Our songs can be gifts from Billy Joel and Harry Styles, or momentary denotations of our most powerful emotions. Music is both ridiculously expensive and completely free. It is both shared with others and the most private understanding of the self. Music is anything and everything.

Psychologically, music is one of the most effective tools in emotional processing and awareness. It allows us to connect to the innermost realms of ourselves from which the complexities of feeling are born. We find ourselves in music and come to new understandings about the world around us. The most important facet of song, however, is that there is no expectation either from or for the listener. In a world where every fleeting emotion is dissected and we spend hours trying to “fix” the external and internal problems of our lives, music allows us to feel without thinking. No judgment. No analysis. No solutions.

Music takes us as we are, with no intention of changing how we feel or making us better. The goal is not to turn every negative emotion into a positive one. It is simply there to reassure us that our feelings are not unusual. Someone else gets it and has decided to share it with millions of other listeners who get it as well. Songs bring us into a larger web of human nature, connecting the billions of people on earth in a common need for release. Someone else is sitting in the same position, listening to the same song, feeling the same way. In our most private emotional experiences, we are not alone after all.

Emotions are raw and often undefinable. They can tear us apart, silencing us in a haze of feeling so deep that no form of verbal expression could ever convey. However, the piano seems to get it. The harmony seems to understand. The beat drop seems to convey every emotion we have ever felt in our entire lives, providing us with a chance to let them go.

            Sometimes there are simply no words. Given the wheel of feelings, we are unable to choose a single one. When there is no explanation or coherent solution, music allows us to find an understanding and release with an eloquence unknown to us until Lana Del Ray pours her heart out into our headphones. We don’t have to name it. The guitar solo in “Rhiannon” does the work for us. We are given the time to express without hesitation or reason, simply allowing us to be. Music is a tool for expression without abandon, an unrestrained, undefined understanding of the self.

Try getting that in therapy.


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