Welcome to a Lyric Shrink: album or song review with a psychological slant. I am Ryan McCann, a licensed independent mental health professional, audiophile, and volunteer sound tech. Take a seat on the couch, relax, and let’s talk about The Music That Moves Us.

I was mindlessly scrolling Instagram and landed on a college student singing “I Can Go The Distance” from Disney’s Hercules of all things. And there’s a line of that song that always makes me tear up. “I know every mile would be worth my while. When I go the distance, I’ll be right where I belong.” It doesn’t matter what mood I’m in. It just provokes this welling-up of powerful emotions. That experience gave me the initial idea for this article. I also realize how stressful the holiday season is for so many of us. Music is an accessible and healthy escape from the hustle and noise of this time of year.

My hope is that the knowledge and experiences shared here will encourage you to incorporate listening sessions into your stress reduction toolkit.

You’ve likely experienced—in your musical listening journey—the deep stirring of feelings that makes you want to dance, cry, sing, or cheer. It’s primal. It is also quite healing. Many therapists recommend music for relaxation, but it also helps clients get in touch with or express their emotions. Songs can unlock thoughts or express feelings in ways our own words can fail to at times.

Music has this power over us because it activates so many regions of the brain. Pitch stimulates auditory processing and rhythm in the motor cortex. Tones have culturally defined meanings that we interpret cognitively. At least in Western cultures, minor chords are described as dark and ominous while major chords sound bright and uplifting. Lyrics require interpretation and deepen our thinking and assignments of meanings to songs.

Thus with so many parts of the brain firing together, we may notice a decrease in overthinking, a sense of calm, and a lift in mood when listening to music. And if a song has any personal meaning to you, then you’re likely to pair these mental and physical experiences with deeply felt emotions. This last element is how music can move us.

For me, “I Can Go The Distance” gives me hope that my life’s struggle is valuable. It crystallizes those moments in life when I’ve felt right at home, be it in my own or someone else’s. I feel a physical sense of warmth and peace as my breathing changes and muscles relax in anticipation of the resolving note. The tears come because the moment is beautiful and overwhelming.

I’ve felt similarly hearing the musical scores of Rudy and Gladiator. Maybe underdogs must be my thing? The triumph after struggling for so long just seems to catch me in the feels. Jerry Goldsmith’s “Tryouts” from Rudy starts off softly with woodwinds and strings and then picks up with booming tympani and horns. It’s bombastic and hard-hitting like college football. It inspires in me a sense of hope and causes me to think back on fond memories of frosty autumn days watching football with my dad.

Lisa Gerrard sings in an idioglossia, a private language, on “Now We Are Free” and other songs from Gladiator. Her voice and wholly unique expressions make the movie for me. How do you describe stepping into Elysium? You can show it on the screen. You can write it on the page. But the feeling of stepping into the afterlife is indescribable. Unless you have some inspired language that comes from that place. Lisa seems to speak the language of the divine to describe the indescribable, and the Hanz Zimmer orchestration does the rest to capture a sense of majesty. It gives me shivers every time.

Lyrics, style, and instrumentation all factor into what moves us. The settings where we listen to music matter too. Stomping and clapping along to “We Will Rock You” at a sporting event has a different feel than a cover band jamming out in a bar. But I’ve felt just as moved by both. The common factor was being in the presence of people all tuning into the same frequencies.

Two settings where corporate singing never fails to get me emotionally charged are sporting events and church.

The silence of 80,000 people right before the National Anthem at a Husker Football game and the singing in unison gives me goosebumps every time. I can’t hear “O Holy Night” sung in church without going back to my memory of playing an angel in a Christmas cantata at my church in 8th grade. A soprano belted out the song’s distinctive high note on the line “Oh night, divine”, and while I was slowly drawing my arms up and down majestically I went weak in the knees. It just floored me. The low rumble of voices singing along pierces by this crystalline note just made the hair on my neck stand up every performance. Hearing the song now provokes that similar sensation when I’m gathered with family at church and I just tuned into all the voices unifying to reach that note.

It has been so stressful lately. Coming off a divisive election season leading right into the holidays that sometimes force contact with people we’d rather not be around. Obligations pile up along with finances and our health. Pretty soon it feels like we’re navigating through an ocean of anxiety. I come back to music every time to drop out of those choppy waters into the calm depths below. The times I sit in my chair just listening, with my phone off and eyes closed are the best. I just let the music wash over me.