Resonating with the universe

When we listen, we don't just hear we feel. A personal exploration of sound

Photo by NASA on Unsplash

Have you ever left an imprint with your voice

As a child, I remember screaming so loudly that my family would joke my shouts had got stuck on the ceiling of my grandmother’s house. Sound, it seemed, could leave its mark—physically and emotionally. I grew up surrounded by music and the sounds of different voices and languages, but I hadn’t truly considered how sound shapes the way we navigate the world until more recently. When I first learned to meditate, I focused on the breath, but now, I find myself listening to the sounds around me—whether it’s the closest noise or the farthest hum in the distance. Each morning, the birdsong marks the changing of the seasons and guides me into the day.

I wasn’t afraid of the sound of my voice but when I got to school, my early experiences with singing weren’t exactly encouraging. A teacher at school was dismissive of my voice and made it clear that my non-speaking voice left a lot to be desired. So, I stopped singing. I enjoyed speaking, loved playing with words, but I never really explored my own voice beyond that.

And yet, sound was always present. As a child, I would sometimes join my grandmother as she chanted. Years later, I found myself drawn to exploring my voice again—attending ‘singing for those who can’t sing’ groups, remembering the buzz of belting out songs in karaoke booths with friends. And then, someone who came to my Qigong classes invited me to a vocal toning workshop she was leading. I was curious. I had started to explore the range of my voice, and I wondered how it might connect to my movement practice. So, I went.

I went with an open mind. And I left feeling energised. I went back. And then again. Something about it resonated—literally and figuratively. Now, Elisabetta and I are planning to work together to collaborate, and I’m curious to see where this exploration leads.

In Qigong and yoga, sound is more than just something we hear. It’s something we feel. It moves through us, shifts our energy, and connects us to something deeper. In Qigong, specific sounds are used to stimulate the meridian system, to clear stagnation and encourage energy to flow. Yoga has long embraced the concept of Nada Brahma—the idea that the world itself is sound, that everything vibrates at its own frequency, and that by tuning in, we align with the fundamental pulse of the universe.

Throughout history, cultures across the world have used sound as a tool for healing and transformation. In India, Vedic chants have been used for thousands of years to bring balance to the body and mind. In ancient China, Daoist practitioners understood the power of resonance and breath. In the West, Gregorian chants in medieval monasteries created a deep sense of peace and focus, while Greek philosophers like Pythagoras explored musical harmonics as a means of healing.

So what is it about sound that shifts something in us? Why do certain tones feel grounding, while others lift us up? Science is beginning to catch up with what these ancient traditions have long understood. Sound vibrations influence our nervous system, our breath, our emotions. Studies on vocal toning suggest that humming can stimulate the vagus nerve, activating the parasympathetic nervous system and promoting relaxation.

I’m still exploring. I want to think more about how we feel sound in the body—how it affects our breath, our movement, our energy. And I’d love to hear your experiences too. Have you ever felt a shift just from making sound? From humming, from singing, from chanting? What are your experiences with sound?