By Lea Gerault

“Music is the language of emotions” – Kant
Language and emotions are automatically linked since all music is emotional. Of course, music has first an aesthetic function : all music is aesthetic; but not all music is necessarily expressive. However, not all music is expressive but all music is emotional. That’s also why everyone can interpret a musical work the way they want.
We all agree, I think, that music can make us feel intense sensations, that we can easily feel the message the author wants to share : love, joy, jealousy, farewell…. We can also, as I said above, have our own emotional interpretation of a music. Moreover, music allows, and we will focus on that fact, to express its emotions, even to externalize the bad ones for a moment and to learn how to live with them.
Many studies also show the effect of music on the human brain, on its emotions, on anxiety, etc… We will talk about my point of view on the benefit of the emotional expression of music by talking about my previous experiences with it so far.

Since my childhood, I have never really expressed my emotions with words. But I always used to talk a lot to my family, like a lot, probably too much by the way : about my day and about unnecessary things that I knew they didn’t really care about.
But I never talked about how I felt. The thing is what I feel is not unknown to me, I am aware of my emotions and how I react to the different situations. I am aware when I have a peak of stress, panic, sadness, joy and can easily differentiate my different emotions. I just never know how to describe these feelings in clear words. Or even hubbub words. I can’t put it into words. It doesn’t come out of my mouth and when I try, my feelings usually get worse. My brain is trying so hard to find the right words that it just has a negative effect, like accentuating my emotions.
As far as I can remember, I’ve always been like this. Not being able to express my feelings with words, whether during my peaks of emotions or even years later, when I had the time to think about it. In any case, it’s not really something that has handicapped me during my life. I’m definitely not the only one working like that and I know it.
I think I’m like that because my family is also that way. I grew up in a environment where none of us where describing our feelings. It doesn’t mean I’m from a non open-minded family. In the contrary, I know I can talk about any topics with my family. We just never learned how to put feelings into words. Yeah, I think I can say it. We never talked much in my family. Our feelings, our emotions, our sorrows, our hatred, our sadness, our happiness…. We don’t really share that kind of thing. Actually, I think this is something that only a few people share. But there is a difference between not sharing it and not knowing how to share it with words.
Because…. Yeah. I have almost always shared my feelings with those around me, my family in particular. We just didn’t do it with words. We’ve always communicated through another way: music. I cannot say I’m extremely good when it comes to music. Let’s say I know the basics of music theory. But I think, I’m even fully convinced, that you don’t have to know a lot about music to be able to express your feelings through that art.

I remember those hours spent in the music room at home, lying on the sofa, resting while listening to my father playing guitar. I don’t think I ever felt as connected with him as I did in those moments. We weren’t talking, no, but I wanted those moments to be frozen forever, I wanted the time to stop. Because I felt I had access to what he thinks, what he feels. I felt I was with him, in his world, in his own world. It’s stronger, more powerful than just words. I have tears in my eyes just to think about it. The happiest and purest moments of my life were spent in this room, listening to my father’s music. All of that without a single word. I’ve never felt so much happiness. And even years later, miles away from this room and from my father, I still feel this joy. The emotions that these moments of music gave me are so strong that if I think about it, I can forget about my bad thoughts.
And I also remember crying in my room when my brothers were playing -a little bit too loud- their respective instruments. I wasn’t crying because I was sad, I was crying because they were sad. And I also remember the times when I was laughing listening to my brothers too. With the same instruments.
I remember watching my closest friends sing at parties, as if they were letting all the pain go. I remember the feeling of happiness when I was joining them. The feeling of freedom when I was singing with them.
Then I remember playing piano in front of several people of my family. I remember smiling when my fingers touched the keys, I remember feeling I was in a bubble with everyone who listened to me.
I remember these different atmospheres when we were playing music. The different vibrations that were transmitted to the sounds of music in the house. I remember feeling exceptional feelings at home, as if the emotions expressed by our different instruments had influenced the air and the atmosphere of the house.
Music helps to connect people. It’s always been a way for me to talk about my feelings but also to just talk to my family.

Moreover, music also allows us to express our sufferings and to accept them.
I don’t talk about it much but I still have a pain in me. A part of me which hurts when I think about it, when I think about it too much. As if my heart had been broken for years. I think it’s the case for a lot of people, for most of the people. And it’s not dramatic at all, I actually think it even allows me to stay on earth, or at least to not live in another world forever, which I tend to do.
Anyway, regarding this suffering, the music has helped me a lot and is still helping me. It allows to externalize my pain when it appears, when it becomes too violent. It allows me to return to a “normal” emotional state. What do I mean by a normal feeling? An indifferent, neither sad, nor joyful feeling. Music creation allows me to finally focus on my feelings. To bring everything out. I used to play piano for hours when I was in pain. Hours, without exaggerating. The time for me to accept my feeling and to learn how to live with it, to understand that it’s okay to feel bad.
I am aware that my pain will never go away. And it’s fine. We just have to learn how to live with it. Learn to live with our emotions, not to dodge them, not to try to make them go. It’s useless. And what would life be like without some bad moods? Would we be able to be happy without experiencing painful moments? There is suffering in each of us and we have to learn to live with it. We have to learn how to be aware of our emotions and to not drown in them. Music allows that : to accept your suffering, to accept your emotions.
I often write at night, when my brain is tired and doesn’t really have time to think. When I write what goes through my mind, when I feel the most connected with my emotions, with my inner self, finally, because my subconscious does not have time to judge whether my thoughts are good or bad and to censor them.
The other time, I wrote these few words that now remain in my skin: “Because I’m afraid that, if it stays, I’m the one who will leave”. Take it however you want. But I can tell you I really needed the pain to go out of my mind.
Later on, we did our music therapy session. We had to improvise with our djembe and express different emotions. I thought of my sufferings, my sorrows, which are constantly inside me. I woke them up to get them out. Did they really come out? I don’t know, I don’t think so. As I said, I don’t think I have the ability to erase them like that all at once. But living with it is possible. Music helps. Music helped at that moment. I played, and maybe it was not pleasant to hear, maybe it was better not to hear what I was playing. But I think that, if we truly listened, we could hear my pain. Not to feel music is not to listen to it. And when I stopped playing, the sentence I wrote wasn’t relevant anymore. The pain was still here, somewhere, but I didn’t want to leave anymore.

In addition, music allows me to focus on the present by listening to my emotions.
I’m often distracted. There are many times when I’m no longer here, no longer in this world. I am somewhere else, my mind is somewhere else. I think that this “distracted state” has suddenly increased since I’m in Romania. We may think that it is the many life changes that I have experienced in the past three months that make me have this feeling. But I don’t think so.
I’ve always been like that. I couldn’t concentrate for more than twenty minutes in class without suddenly zoning out. Even though I was focused and attentive before and was interested in what I was listening to.
Music helped me a lot to not zone out in random situations. Because I could be in my world when I was playing music. I could fully listen to my feelings when I was playing. I could be in my own world when I was playing music and be in the real world when I wasn’t. Since I’m in Romania, I don’t have the same relationship with music than in France. So I’m just in my bubble at unexpected times of the day.
In any case, we should remember that music allows us to be in our own bubble. In an another world, to create our own world. To think about yourself for a moment, to think about yourself without even thinking with words. Just to let yourself go to the sound of music, to the sound of music that you create. To let your inner self speak, your buried feelings. To bring out all these emotions that we try to hide every day. That we hide every day, that we hide from others but most importantly, that we hide from ourselves. Not to feel music is not to listen to it.

I think music can help everyone. Anyone can reflect their feelings with music. We just have to let go. Music saved my life. Without music, I would certainly not be who I am today. Music has always been
there for me, in all the difficult moments but also in all my joyful moments. And I think that’s what I learned with the several music therapy sessions : the music was not just present during my painful moments, it was there, all the time, everywhere. Before, I felt it had saved me from my -too- painful moments, when it actually just accompanied me in all the moments of my life, whatever the feeling. It was there when I didn’t accept anyone, when I accepted certain people, when I accepted everyone. It was there in my most painful moments and in my happiest moments.
It is there when I feel alone, it is there when I feel connected to life. I think that’s what I really learned : it keeps me constantly connected to life. Maybe I’m in my bubble when I play, but I’m still alive. Music allows me to be connected with myself. Which keeps me alive.