If you’ve ever attended a choir rehearsal and felt your whole body relax before you’ve even sung a note, you’re not imagining it. Group singing is one of the most neurologically-rich, physiologically-powerful, and socially-bonding activities that humans can do - and we’ve been doing it for thousands of years for precisely those reasons.
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But what’s actually going on in the brain and body? Why does singing in a group feel so grounding, uplifting, and connecting? And why does it seem to reach places that playing an instrument, talking, thinking, or singing in the shower simply can’t?
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Let’s take a walk through the science - in plain English - and explore what’s happening in the brain and body when we sing together.

Community choirs are often built with the best intentions: warmth, connection, and belonging. But for neurodivergent singers - including those with autism, ADHD, sensory processing differences, and social anxiety - some of the most common "welcoming" behaviours can actually create the opposite effect.

In fact, the things we think are inclusive can feel overwhelming, confusing, or even distressing for neurodivergent participants. The good news? With a few small shifts, your choir can become a genuinely safer, more accessible space for all kinds of minds - without losing its joy and community spirit.

Let’s look at five well-meaning habits that could be doing more harm than good, and how you can adapt them with every singer in mind.

Ever woken up the day after Christmas, a party or a wedding and felt a bit… flat?
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That strange emotional dip, a kind of afterglow lull where everything feels a little grey and quiet?

Now imagine that same feeling - but the night before, you weren’t out drinking or dancing or celebrating.  You were at choir.

Surprisingly, the symptoms the day after choir can be almost identical: pounding head, aching body, emotional fuzziness - like you've been through something big.

It’s a phenomenon that many of my singers have come to notice over time, and one that I’m not immune to either, even as the choir leader.

So, what’s actually going on?  Why do you feel so awful the day after choir?

It’s a real thing!

Actors have apparently dubbed this feeling “post-performance depression”.  I call it “the Choir Hangover”.
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You can get a choir hangover after a fantastic performance, a trip, a workshop or even a great rehearsal.  In fact, any time that the happy hormones have been buzzing, you can expect some sort of comedown the day after.
 
But why do we get it and what can we do to support our singers (and ourselves) with our mental health moving forward?

​What if your well-meaning conducting cues were actually making it harder for your singers to stay present, engaged, and emotionally safe?

It’s a tough question. But if we want to lead choirs in a way that supports not just sound but wellbeing, we need to talk about the subtle but powerful ways us conductors can inadvertently dysregulate the nervous systems of our singers - especially those who are neurodivergent, trauma-impacted, or dealing with stress and burnout.
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Let’s take a look at what nervous system dysregulation looks like in the rehearsal room, and how small, intentional shifts in your conducting style can create a more musically expressive and mentally-healthy choir environment.

We’ve all heard choirs described as “safe spaces” or “mental-health friendly.” But what does that really mean? And is it enough?

As a choral conductor living with PTSD - and someone working at the intersection of music and mental health - I’ve really had to challenge with what I thought made a choir welcoming and what actually helps people feel safe, seen, and supported in the room.  There have been times when what I thought was helping was really not the right thing at all.

I’m not here to call anyone out. I’m here to ask the questions I wish I’d asked sooner, so that others may learn from my wins and mistakes.  Here's what I know so far.