Music is more than entertainment. Research shows it can lower cortisol, reduce blood pressure, stimulate neuroplasticity and even support memory in conditions like dementia. From stress relief to emotional healing, music may be one of the most accessible forms of natural medicine available to us and we can use it every single day.
I love music.
I listen to it every single day in the kitchen, in the car, walking outside, sometimes just quietly on my own. It brings me so much happiness. But more than that, it changes my state.
Different music for different moments.
Calm when I need grounding.
Energy when I need lifting.
When I was younger, I played the piano and the violin. Sitting at the piano, completely absorbed, brought me such joy. There is something about physically making music, not just listening, that feels deeply nourishing. It’s expressive. Emotional. Almost primal. Even now, when I sit at the piano, I can feel my whole body settle. My breathing changes and thoughts get easier.
What fascinates me now is discovering that this isn’t just what I was experiencing, that reseach shows why it is so important.
Music doesn’t simply improve our mood. It changes our physiology.
Certain songs activate the nucleus accumbens, the brain’s pleasure centre. Relaxing music can lower cortisol, reducing stress, heart rate and blood pressure. Studies show that musical engagement stimulates neuroplasticity, helping the brain form new connections. In some cases, music has helped people with Parkinson’s regain movement, stroke patients rebuild neural pathways, and individuals with dementia access memories long thought lost.
The parts of the brain that process music are deep, ancient and protected. That’s why someone who can’t remember a name may still remember how to play an instrument perfectly. Music is stored differently. It lives somewhere resilient.
Music also triggers endorphins, our natural pain relievers and bonding hormones that help us feel connected. It can soothe anxiety, ease grief, reduce pain and support healing in hospitals and hospices. It communicates emotion in ways words sometimes can’t.
What I find so powerful is that music meets us exactly where we are. It doesn’t demand anything from us. It doesn’t require perfection or performance. It simply invites us in. A song can hold grief when words feel too much. It can steady our breathing when anxiety rises. It can energise us when motivation dips. In a world that often feels fast and noisy, music gives us rhythm — and rhythm gives us regulation. There is something profoundly comforting about knowing that at any moment, we can press play and shift our internal world.
There’s also something deeply communal about music. Singing together in the car, hearing a crowd join in at a concert, or sharing a song that means something special these moments remind us we are not alone. Music bonds us. It synchronises us. Even our heartbeats can align to rhythm. That shared experience is powerful medicine in itself.
And perhaps most beautifully of all it’s available to us at any time.
We can self-prescribe it.
Sing in the car.
Put on a favourite song while cooking.
Return to an instrument you once loved.
Create a playlist for the mood you want to feel.
Music is not a luxury. It’s a birthright.
The next time I sit at the piano, I’ll know I’m not just revisiting something from my childhood. I’m supporting my nervous system, my brain, my heart. I’m strengthening pathways. I’m lowering stress. I’m giving myself something profoundly nourishing.
And that feels like a very simple, very powerful form of medicine.