RAYs of Thought

Have you ever heard a song and suddenly felt like you were somewhere else?

For me, that song is “Count on Me” by Bruno Mars. Every time I hear it, I am instantly back in fourth grade with my teacher, Ms. Kamin, standing with my class before I moved from Massachusetts to Maryland. My whole class sang it for me, and even now, 8 years later, that song still carries the feeling of leaving, growing up, and being loved by people I had to say goodbye to.

That is what amazes me about music. It is invisible, but somehow, it holds memories and feelings that words can’t express.

I have noticed this in small ways too. When I study, music can motivate me and help me focus. It makes homework feel less overwhelming, almost like there is a rhythm pushing me forward. But for my parents, the same music can be distracting. Sometimes they ask how I can possibly focus with music playing in the background, while I feel like it actually helps me concentrate. It makes me think about how sound isn’t experienced the same way by everyone. Our age, culture, habits, and even the environment we grew up in can shape how we respond to it.

When I was younger, I also remember white noise used to help me feel better. I don’t think I understood why at the time, but I just knew that the steady sound felt calming. There is actually a neuroscience explanation for some of this. The brain “hears” music, and responds to it. Music can activate areas involved in emotion, memory, movement, and reward. That is why a song can give us chills, calm us down, or make us want to dance before we even think about it. Music can also connect to dopamine, a chemical involved in pleasure and motivation, which might be one reason certain songs feel so rewarding to listen to.

However, I think the most powerful part of music is what the brain attaches to the sound. A song can become tied to a person, a place, a version of ourselves, or a moment we didn’t realize we would remember forever. That is why songs can feel so nostalgic. They can transport us back in time before we even have a chance to prepare ourselves, to something we thought we had moved past.

Sound also affects our mental state beyond music, whether that’s the peace that the sound of rain brings or the familiar voice of a mother. For some neurodiverse people, sound can be really intense and overstimulating, because even though certain noises are calming and regulating, others may feel painful or distracting.

That is why I think sound is also connected to empathy. We tend to think about accessibility through what we can see, but what we hear also matters. A space can look welcoming, but if it is too loud/chaotic or unpredictable, it could still feel uncomfortable or inaccessible for some people.

Music can’t solve everything; it can’t erase stress or make difficult emotions disappear. Instead, it can give emotions somewhere to go. It can help us feel understood when we don’t know how to explain what we are feeling. It can make us feel less alone, or more focused and connected to ourselves.

Maybe that is why we all have our own playlists: songs for studying, crying, remembering, or even starting over. Each one becomes connected to a different part of who we are.

Sometimes the playlists inside of our mind are made of music, white noise, silence, memories, or a song we can’t get out of our head. Before we can name what we feel, sometimes we can hear it.