I’ve been leading song circles for six or seven years now, and there’s a phenomenon happening I’ve come to notice. Almost every morning, I wake up with one of our simple, repetitive songs playing in my mind, looping softly like a gentle breath.
At first, I thought of them as “earworms.” You know, the ones that get stuck and won’t let go. But something shifted when I realized what these songs were whispering to me: joy, presence, self-acceptance. Affirmations, really. “I am enough.” “You are loved.” “We are whole.” These weren’t distractions. They were healing messages soaking into my subconscious. The are slowly replacing old loops of doubt or self-criticism with melodies of hope.
And isn’t that the quiet magic of these circles? When we sing together, we’re not performing—we’re remembering. Not trying to impress, but to express. To feel. To soften into presence.
That’s why I always encourage people: don’t come into a song circle asking, “Do I sound good?” Come in asking, “How does this feel in my body?” Can you feel your breath deepen? Can you feel your shoulders soften? Can you let your voice be enough…just as it is?
In this space, it’s not about perfection. It’s about permission. To feel. To fumble. To be felt.
So the next time a song lingers in your mind long after the circle closes, consider it a gift. A soul-echo. A reminder that healing doesn’t have to be loud. Sometimes, it’s just one simple line… quietly rewriting the story.
Lots of love <3
Alicia
