You Do Not Have to Relax to Receive Sound
There is something I want people to understand about my work as a Sound Alchemist.
You do not have to relax to receive sound.
You do not have to close your eyes.
You do not have to lie down.
You do not have to quiet your mind.
You do not have to breathe in a particular way.
You do not have to release anything.
And you certainly do not have to experience some profound emotional transformation simply because you are listening to a gong or Tibetan singing bowl.
You are allowed to listen exactly as you are.
This understanding is central to my philosophy:
Listening First. Nothing Is Required.
For years, I have observed how meditation, sound healing, and wellness practices are often presented as experiences that should produce particular outcomes.
Relaxation.
Peace.
Calmness.
Emotional release.
Inner transformation.
And while those experiences may occur, I believe we need to make room for something equally important.
The freedom to experience sound without being told what we are supposed to feel.
Because sometimes, the most respectful thing we can offer another person is an experience that does not demand anything from them.
When Relaxation Becomes Another Expectation
Think about how often we hear the words:
Just relax.
Take a deep breath.
Close your eyes.
Let everything go.
Release the tension.
Clear your mind
These instructions are so common that we rarely question them.
They appear in meditation recordings, yoga classes, sound baths, wellness retreats, and therapeutic environments.
For some people, they are welcome invitations.
For others, they may feel uncomfortable, frustrating, or even overwhelming.
What happens when someone cannot relax?
What happens when closing their eyes does not feel comfortable?
What happens when lying down increases physical pain?
What happens when slowing down brings attention to sensations or emotions they would rather not explore?
What happens when a person simply does not want to participate in the way someone else expects?
Too often, the response is to encourage them to try harder.
Breathe more deeply.
Stay with the discomfort.
Surrender.'
Let go.
But I do not believe that forcing someone to remain in an uncomfortable experience is the same as supporting them.
Relaxation is not something another person gets to demand from your body.
And the inability or unwillingness to relax does not mean someone has failed.
My Understanding Comes from Lived Experience
My approach to sound is informed by more than the instruments I play.
It is informed by my life.
I am a United States Navy veteran.
I am a survivor of trauma.
I have lived with post-traumatic stress.
I have experienced chronic pain, injuries, grief, and periods of significant stress.
I understand that the body does not always respond to an environment in the way someone else expects it to.
There have been times when lying on my back was uncomfortable.
Times when my body needed movement rather than stillness.
Times when I wanted quiet rather than conversation.
Times when I needed space rather than someone attempting to help me relax.
And times when the most supportive decision I could make was to stop participating in something.
Those experiences have influenced the way I think about healing practices.
I do not believe a person should have to override their body's signals to meet the expectations of a facilitator.
I do not believe someone should have to disclose their trauma history to justify a boundary.
And I do not believe that a person needs to become emotionally vulnerable to demonstrate that a listening session is working.
My experiences belong to me.
Your experiences belong to you.
Neither of us owes another person access to our private lives simply because we are participating in a wellness practice.
Sound Does Not Need to Fix You
One of the reasons I use the phrase Listening First is that I want to move away from the idea that every listening experience must be about fixing something.
I am not approaching listeners as people who are broken.
I am not creating recordings because I believe everyone needs to be repaired.
I am creating sound because sound can be experienced, appreciated, explored, and enjoyed.
The resonance of a gong can be powerful.
A Tibetan singing bowl can produce beautiful, sustained tones.
The hand pan offers melodic patterns and rhythms that invite attention.
These instruments have qualities that interest me as a musician and sound practitioner.
But I do not need to assign a specific therapeutic outcome to every vibration.
I do not need to promise that a recording will release trauma, regulate someone's nervous system, or produce emotional healing.
Different people respond to sound differently.
Some people find certain sounds soothing.
Others find them stimulating.
Some enjoy lower tones.
Others prefer softer, higher sounds.
And some people do not enjoy particular instruments at all.
There is room for those differences.
You do not have to be changed by sound for listening to have value.
Sometimes the experience is simply about enjoying music.
And that is enough.
Your Nervous System Has Its Own Responses
Our nervous systems respond to the world around us.
Sounds, environments, memories, relationships, physical sensations, and everyday experiences can influence how alert, comfortable, or unsettled we feel.
Those responses are not always under conscious control.
For someone who has experienced trauma, a sound or situation may sometimes bring up unexpected reactions.
A person may notice tension.
Restlessness.
Increased alertness.
A desire to move.
A desire to leave.
Or an emotional response they were not expecting.
These reactions do not mean the person is doing something wrong.
They also do not automatically mean that a healing process is taking place.
Sometimes a response simply tells us that something is uncomfortable or that we need to make a different choice.
That distinction matters.
I do not believe every uncomfortable sensation needs to be interpreted as trauma leaving the body.
I do not believe every emotional response is evidence of a breakthrough.
And I do not believe someone should be encouraged to endure distress because a practitioner assumes it is necessary for healing.
Sometimes the appropriate response is to lower the volume.
Change position.
Open your eyes.
Take a break.
Choose a different recording.
Or stop listening entirely.
Listening First means respecting those choices.
You Can Keep Your Eyes Open
There is a common assumption that meditation requires closed eyes.
But closing your eyes is not necessary to listen to sound.
Some people enjoy closing their eyes because it helps them focus on what they hear.
Others prefer keeping their eyes open because it helps them feel oriented to their surroundings.
Both are valid.
You can watch the light coming through a window.
You can look at the trees outside.
You can notice the room around you.
You can listen while sitting in your favorite chair.
You can enjoy a gong recording while looking at the sky.
There is no requirement to withdraw from your surroundings to participate.
In my own practice, I value the freedom to choose how I engage with sound.
I want listeners to have that same freedom.
Your eyes belong to you. You decide whether they remain open or closed.
You Do Not Have to Lie Down
Another expectation surrounding sound baths is that participants should lie on their backs.
For some people, that position is comfortable.
For others, it is not.
Chronic pain, previous injuries, physical limitations, trauma histories, and personal preferences can all influence how someone feels in a particular position.
I know from my own experiences that lying on my back is not always comfortable.
And I do not believe I should have to explain my medical history or personal experiences to justify sitting up.
If I want to sit, I can sit.
If I want to stand, I can stand.
If I need to change positions, I can change positions.
If I decide that an activity is not right for me, I can decline.
The same applies to anyone listening to my recordings.
There is no special position required to hear a gong.
There is no perfect posture for enjoying a Tibetan singing bowl.
Your body does not need to conform to someone else's idea of what a listening experience should look like.
Comfort and personal choice matter more to me than appearances.
Breathing Is Not a Performance
Breathwork can be meaningful for some people.
But I also recognize that being instructed to control the breath is not comfortable for everyone.
Sometimes being told to take a deep breath can feel irritating.
Sometimes it draws attention to physical sensations that someone does not want to focus on.
Sometimes a person would rather breathe naturally.
I respect that.
You do not have to synchronize your breathing with my music.
You do not have to inhale for a certain number of seconds.
You do not have to hold your breath.
You do not have to make your breathing slower.
You can simply breathe.
And if you enjoy intentionally noticing your breath, that choice remains yours.
For me, Listening First is not about creating another set of instructions that people must follow.
It is about offering possibilities without turning them into requirements.
The Difference Between an Invitation and a Command
Language matters.
There is a difference between saying:
"Close your eyes."
And saying:
"If closing your eyes feels comfortable, you are welcome to do so."
There is a difference between saying:
"Take a deep breath."
And saying:
"You may notice your breathing if you wish."
There is a difference between saying:
"Release what you are holding."
And saying:
"You do not have to change anything about how you feel."
The first approach assumes that the facilitator knows what the participant should do.
The second leaves room for individual choice.
I prefer invitations.
I prefer language that respects the listener's autonomy.
I prefer creating spaces where people are not required to explain why they choose something different.
Because the moment someone feels pressured to participate, the experience is no longer entirely theirs.
And I believe the experience should belong to the person having it.
Emotional Release Is Not a Requirement
One of the things I find concerning in some wellness spaces is the expectation that emotional release is necessary for healing.
People may be encouraged to cry.
To surrender.
To let go of trauma.
To push through resistance.
To remain with uncomfortable sensations until something changes.
But emotions are not performances.
Tears are not proof that a practice worked.
And the absence of tears does not mean that nothing meaningful occurred.
Sometimes I listen to music and feel emotional.
Sometimes I listen and feel peaceful.
Sometimes I feel energized.
Sometimes I simply enjoy the sounds.
All of those experiences are part of being human.
I do not want anyone listening to my recordings to believe they must produce an emotional response.
And I do not want people to feel that they owe an explanation if emotions do arise.
You can cry without telling anyone why.
You can remain quiet.
You can laugh.
You can feel nothing in particular.
You can stop listening.
Your emotional experience belongs to you.
You do not have to share it.
You do not have to interpret it.
And you do not have to turn it into a lesson.
Sometimes Sound Is Not What You Need
As someone who creates sound recordings, I also believe it is important to acknowledge that sound is not always the right choice.
Sometimes I want silence.
Sometimes I want to go outside and listen to the birds.
Sometimes I want to ride my bike.
Sometimes I want to write poetry.
Sometimes I want to enjoy a television show.
Sometimes I do not want to hear another gong, singing bowl, or piece of music.
And that is perfectly fine.
I do not believe sound healing needs to become the answer to every difficult moment.
There are many ways people care for themselves.
There are also times when medical care, psychotherapy, physical therapy, or other forms of support may be appropriate.
Sound can be one part of someone's life without being expected to replace everything else.
I create music because it is meaningful to me.
I share it because other people may enjoy it.
But I do not believe everyone needs it.
Nothing Is Required includes the freedom not to listen.
Consent Continues Throughout the Experience
Consent is important to me.
Not only in relationships and bodywork, but also in the way we approach wellness practices.
A person may agree to participate in a sound session and later decide they want to leave.
They may begin listening to a recording and discover that a particular tone feels unpleasant.
They may want to change positions.
They may decide they do not want to answer a question.
They may choose not to participate in a guided exercise.
Those decisions deserve respect.
Consent is not a permanent agreement that removes the right to change one's mind.
It is ongoing.
I believe people should be able to participate without feeling trapped by expectations.
They should be able to choose what feels appropriate for them.
And they should not be made to feel guilty for declining.
This is particularly important when practices involve physical touch, personal disclosures, or emotionally intense experiences.
No one should have to reveal intimate details of their life to receive basic respect
.
A boundary is still a boundary even when the person establishing it chooses not to explain.
The Freedom of Recorded Listening Sessions
One of the reasons I appreciate creating recorded music is the freedom it offers listeners.
They can choose when to listen.
They can choose where to listen.
They can adjust the volume.
They can pause.
They can return to a favorite passage.
They can stop whenever they wish.
There is no facilitator watching their response.
There is no group expectation to remain still.
There is no pressure to share what they experienced afterward.
They can make the listening experience their own.
That freedom is meaningful to me.
When I create a gong recording or Tibetan singing bowl session, I am offering the sound without requiring an audience to respond in a particular way.
I do not need to know whether someone relaxed.
I do not need to know whether they cried.
I do not need to know what memories came to mind.
They are welcome to keep their experiences private.
The music is available.
What they choose to do with it belongs to them.
Listening First Is About Respect
At the heart of my philosophy is respect.
Respect for the body.
Respect for boundaries.
Respect for individual experiences.
Respect for the right to say no.
Respect for the right to change one's mind.
Respect for the reality that people arrive at listening practices with different histories, needs, and preferences.
I do not believe healing should require someone to abandon their autonomy.
I do not believe relaxation should be treated as an achievement.
And I do not believe that sound must produce a measurable result to be worth experiencing.
Sometimes respect means offering a choice and accepting the answer.
Sometimes it means allowing silence.
Sometimes it means recognizing that a listener does not want what we are offering.
And sometimes it means doing nothing at all.
That is not a failure of the practice.
It is part of honoring the person.
An Invitation Without Expectations
If you are exploring my music for the first time, I want you to know that you are welcome exactly as you are.
You can listen while sitting in a chair.
You can listen with your eyes open.
You can listen while enjoying the outdoors.
You can listen while resting.
You can listen while moving gently.
You can decide that a particular recording is not for you.
You do not need to prepare yourself.
You do not need to become calm.
You do not need to quiet your thoughts.
You do not need to release your emotions.
You do not need to share your story.
You do not need to experience a breakthrough.
You do not need to become someone different.
You are allowed to enjoy the resonance of a gong simply because you enjoy the resonance of a gong.
You are allowed to appreciate the sound of a Tibetan singing bowl without assigning it a deeper meaning.
You are allowed to listen for a few minutes and then move on with your day.
And you are allowed to choose silence instead.
You do not have to relax to receive sound.
You do not have to perform healing.
You do not have to meet anyone else's expectations.
You can simply be present in whatever way feels appropriate for you.
That is the space I want my work to offer.
Not a demand.
Not a promise of transformation.
Not another obligation.
Just an invitation to listen.
Listening First. Nothing Is Required.
About the Author
Julie Jewels Smoot is a U.S. Navy veteran, author, poet, survivor advocate, and Sound Alchemist. Through original gong recordings, Tibetan singing bowl sessions, hand pan music, poetry, and guided listening experiences, she explores the relationship between sound, personal autonomy, rest, and body awareness.
Her philosophy, Listening First. Nothing Is Required., emphasizes consent, choice, and the freedom to experience sound without pressure or prescribed outcomes.
Explore her original music, articles, and listening experiences at:
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