I’m a sceptic by nature.
There. I’ve said it. Which is why I’ll be the first to tell you – when it comes to alternative, out-of-the-box, non-mainstream, new age-y activities like sound therapy, my natural instincts immediately kick in.
I mean, the fact that a sound therapy session is actually called a ‘sound bath’ already got me amused. I knew there would be no (bath) water involved, though yes, I would agree that on the face of it, the sound of water, the pitter-patter of rain, the rush of a glorious waterfall, does sound (pardon the pun) soothing and mildly therapeutic to me.
So, oh well. I bit the bullet, slipped on a casual t-shirt and shorts, and grabbed my spot on a yoga mat with 14 other eager beavers in a spacious air-conditioned wellness studio near the heart of town. It was a Friday night in Singapore, so there was plenty of buzz in the air and on the streets – but to my pleasant surprise, the studio felt calm, naturally quiet, like an oasis in a sea of busy-ness.
When I walked in, Michele, who founded The Sirius Sound, was already seated in front of the room to helm this ‘deep healing’ session – armed with an assortment of instruments: various-sized crystal bowls that emit audible vibrations when struck, what looked to me like Tibetan Singing Bowls and mini drums, and even a didgeridoo-like device which I later found out was what was creating those peaceful, gently flowing water tones I almost dozed off to.
After some initial deep-breathing exercises while seated cross-legged in a meditative stance, Michele got us to lie flat on our backs, close our eyes, and just… relax.
That’s when she got to work, as a whole cacophony of sounds, not too loud, not too soft, filled our ears and our minds for the next 45 minutes or so (although the passing of time, I later realised, became an abstract) – transporting us, with our eyes closed, to the subconscious world of our own thoughts and feelings.
Five minutes in, I could already tell where the young woman to my right had landed – she was in dreamland, with her heavy breathing and occasional soft snores giving her away. I allowed myself a subtle smile. Good on her, I thought – it must have been an exhausting work week, and she deserves this moment of calming bliss.
As I allowed my mind to drift, half focusing on my breathing, half focusing on the myriad tunes and sounds entering my psyche, I became ultra-conscious of my own heartbeat. There were even moments when I felt a floating sensation, like I was being pulled alongside nature’s soothing symphony – ocean waves, a flowing river, the rush of wind, the rattling of beads like rain or snow hitting the ground, the rustling of leaves – all magnified by the silence outside the studio and the sleep-inducing peace inside.
Music to my ears.
Then came the headspace. Don’t fall asleep, I heard my internal voice say. As relaxed as you may feel, stay awake and just let the moment overwhelm you. Keep those eyes closed. But don’t miss out on the experience.
I started to think of my life. Childhood memories. Imagined moments. I saw faces of family and friends. Postcard images of the physical beauty that still exists in this world. Crystal clear streams. Snow-capped mountains. Turquoise waters.
I listened. I prayed. I felt contented. Humbled. Grateful. Joyful.
In that darkened room in a little corner of Singapore, alongside other fellow planet-wanderers less than an arm’s length to my left and my right, it felt that there was only me and the world. And it was a beautiful sight.
Cathartic.
Before I knew it, minute upon minute had elapsed, and we heard Michelle’s Zen-like voice again, exhorting us to follow her words, stretch our legs and entire body while still lying down, and then slowly sit up and exhale while allowing our mind, body and spirit to recentre and readjust back to reality.
Finally, eyes open. Let the light back in. Deep healing sound bath done. My virgin one.
Immediately but quietly, I surveyed the pulse of the room and looked inwards at my mental and emotional state too.
Smiles. Happy chatter. Palpable sense of relief and delight for a positive experience. Solid energy levels. The humming of the air-con was noticeable again, and so were human voices.
Post-session, did all my aches and pains disappear permanently? No, it was never a magic bullet. But did I feel disoriented or unbalanced in the days that followed? Again, no. I did feel calmer on the inside, less easily triggered, more in control of my moods, my thoughts, my emotions.
In a word, it was therapeutic, as the name suggests, which is why I would welcome another ‘bath time’ down the road. Especially since I know my nightly nocturnal struggle with restful sleep is something I had better manage for the sake of myself and my loved ones.
Michele tells me she’s having another sound bath next week to promote ‘better sleep’. Count me in, I said.
This time round, I’m sure it’ll be a good sign if I do wander off into my own dreamland as those waves and wind permeate my subconscious again.
END
If , like Clarence, you’d like to experience a sound bath for yourself, do sign up for The Sirius Sound’s sessions and programmes HERE.