The Bridge | How Music Helps Us Heal

When words fail, music often shows up first.

In The Bridge, Jim reflects on how music becomes a steady presence during our hardest moments — helping calm the nervous system, hold space for grief, and guide us toward healing when we’re ready.

This final episode of 2025 is a quiet, honest look at music not as background noise, but as something that carries us when we can’t carry ourselves.

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Transcript

When we’re at our lowest moments —
 and I mean really low —
before we reach for words…
before we reach for people…
before we even know how to explain what we’re feeling…

We reach for music.

That one song.
 The one that somehow knows exactly where we are.

It doesn’t matter if it makes us laugh or cry.
 What matters is that it touches something inside of us —
 something we can’t quite get to on our own.

And there’s a reason for that.

Music doesn’t ask questions.
 It doesn’t interrupt.
 It doesn’t tell us how we should feel.

It just shows up —
 and meets us exactly where we are.

Sometimes it gives us permission to fall apart.
 Sometimes it reminds us of who we were before things broke.
 And sometimes… it just sits with us in the quiet.

Long before we have language for pain,
 music gives it somewhere to go.

There’s actually something happening in our bodies when we hear music.

Our brains release chemicals like dopamine and serotonin —
 the same ones tied to happiness, calm, and connection.

Music can help soothe the nervous system,
 lower cortisol — the stress hormone —
 and ease that constant tension we carry without even realizing it.

I don’t think that’s random.

Maybe this is the body and mind doing what they’ve always done best —
 finding a way to protect us…
 even when we don’t know how to protect ourselves.

I can remember a time —
 one of my lowest points.

And I’m talking about that place where you start asking yourself,
 Do I even want to carry on in this world?

There was a song I played over and over.

And honestly — it doesn’t matter what the song was.
 What mattered was how it made me feel.

I remember singing along to it.
 Sometimes I was sobbing so hard I couldn’t even get the words out.
 Most of the time, tears were just streaming down my face.

Looking back now, I understand something I didn’t then.

That song was helping me grieve.

When people talk about trauma recovery, they often describe it in three stages.

First comes safety and stabilization —
that moment where you’re just trying to get through the day,
calm the nervous system,
and feel like the ground isn’t completely giving way beneath you.

Then comes remembrance and mourning —
where you begin to feel what was pushed down,
where the grief shows up,
and the loss finally has a place to land.

And finally, there’s reconnection and integration —
where life starts to come back into focus,
and what happened becomes part of your story —
not the thing that defines it.

I didn’t know those words back then.
 I just knew the music helped.

Looking back now, I can see it clearly.

Music helped steady me when I wasn’t safe inside my own head.
 It gave me somewhere to place the grief when the tears came.
 And eventually… it helped me reconnect —
 with myself,
 and with the world again.

I had a realization not so long ago that really stopped me in my tracks.

I always thought the song “Bridge Over Troubled Water”
was about a friend being there for someone.
And maybe that was the original intent.

But when I really listened to it —
 and I mean really listened —
I started hearing something else.

If you replace the idea of a person
 and think about music instead,
 those lyrics take on a whole new meaning.

I will lay me down.
I will ease your mind.

That’s exactly what music does.

It shows up when the waters are rough.
 It carries us when we can’t stand on our own.
 And it doesn’t ask for anything in return.

And honestly…
 that feels like an even stronger message —
 at least to me.

Music doesn’t fix us.
 It doesn’t erase what happened.
 It doesn’t pretend everything’s okay.

But it steadies us.

It holds the weight for a while —
 until we’re strong enough to carry it again.

Sometimes music is the only thing that stays
 when everything else feels too heavy, too loud, or too far away.

And maybe that’s enough.

So if you’re listening to this
 and there’s a song you keep going back to —
 one that seems to understand you better than words ever could —

There’s a reason for that.

Music has always been part of how we survive.
 How we grieve.
 How we heal.

And if it helped carry you through something once…
 it can do it again.

This is How Did We Get Here? —
a podcast about the choices, cracks, and crossroads that shape us.

I’m Jim Richmond.
 And I’m still here for a reason.
 Maybe you are too.