Music and Healing: A Lifelong Connection
I love synchronicities — don’t you?
The other morning, I was scrolling through YouTube — my Saturday ritual — when a video popped up: “Pearl Jam’s MOST MYSTERIOUS Song Still HAUNTS Fans.”
I knew immediately it was Yellow Ledbetter.
That song has always done something to me. I’ve never known whether to cry, embrace the whole world, feel longing, or get angry… but it always moved me. One of my last conversations with my sister, before she passed away, was about this song. She told me it reminded her of me. I smiled and told her, “I’m going to learn it.” I’d been saying that since I was 14. But somehow, I never had.
Music and Healing in Early Childhood
Music has had a supernatural pull on me for as long as I can remember.
One of my earliest memories is being pushed in a stroller at the Santa Claus parade. Snow was falling, floats drifting by, the smell of hot chocolate in the air. Then I heard the marching band… first the snare drums, then the bass. It took my breath away.
I could feel the drums in my seat — each beat like a little kick to the stroller. It scared me; I didn’t understand it. But looking back, it makes perfect sense. The drum is primal. It’s the heartbeat of the earth — the first sound we hear in the womb. No wonder it can unlock something deep inside. The rhythm can shake emotions loose, connect us to each other, and even give us the ability to time travel.
The Mul Mantra and the Root of Healing
I picked up the guitar at 13, and it’s been my companion ever since. I get lost in songs I learn, in melodies I write, in the rawness of singing.
When my dad passed away 10 years ago, I played the Mul Mantra — through sobs, I’m talking the ugly cry, with tears streaming down my face, struggling to sing through the lump in my throat. That mantra helped me pour out grief I didn’t even know I was holding.
Playing it became more than just music — it was medicine. The Mul Mantra is considered the root mantra in the Sikh tradition, speaking to the eternal nature of the Creator and the unity of all life. It’s powerful in meaning, but also in vibration — deeply grounding, like the root chakra itself.
In this week’s YouTube video, I’m sharing a performance of the Mul Mantra, recorded years ago, as a way to honour that moment and its healing power.
When Music Feels Too Heavy
I’ve always known where I’m at emotionally by how much I’m playing guitar.
Losing my sister has been different. The thought of picking up my guitar and feeling all the feels has, at times, been too much. I’ve been in a creative drought. But I keep praying for inspiration, asking Jordy to send me a sign.
And then, ten months later, Yellow Ledbetter pops up in my feed.
Returning to Music, Returning to Healing
I’ve been playing it every day since — through tears and sadness, feeling my sister right there with me. My fingers are raw, my calluses are slowly coming back, and my heart feels just a little lighter. It’s both brutal and beautiful.
Thank you, Jordy, for reconnecting me to music and reminding me that the only way to heal is to feel — fully, deeply, without skipping over the messy parts.
Music and Healing in Guided Meditations
That’s also the heart of the new guided meditations I’m releasing soon. They’re built on sound, silence, and breath — created to bring you back to your own centre, to help you feel everything you’ve been holding… because if you can’t feel it, you can’t heal it.
If music has ever cracked something open inside you or brought someone back to life within you, you’ll feel at home in them.
💌 Join the Guided Meditation Waitlist — launching soon!
