Tag: Meditation and mindfullness

Misattribution

I recently came across a quote attributed to Lao Tzu that immediately raised my suspicions:

“Music in the soul can be heard by the universe.”

It is a beautiful sentiment. It is also almost certainly not Taoist—and almost certainly not Lao Tzu.

Lao-tzu on music

The line has the familiar feel of a modern greeting-card aphorism: affirming, expressive, and quietly centered on the self. My doubts grew when I set it beside an authentic verse from the Tao Te Ching:

“The five colors blind the eye.
The five tones deafen the ear.
The five flavors numb the taste.”
(Chapter 12)

This is not a rejection of music, but it is a warning: refined sensation can interfere with perception rather than deepen it. Taoism, from the beginning, has been wary of confusing stimulation with insight.

That tension—between music as expression and music as interference—is where this reflection begins.

Three Kinds of Music

The Taoist thinker Zhuangzi, writing a generation or two after Lao Tzu, offers one of the most intriguing accounts of music in world philosophy. Zhuangzi lived during the Warring States period, around the 4th century BCE, and is credited with writing a work known by his name, the Zhuangzi, considered one of two foundational texts of Taoism, alongside the Tao Te Ching. He describes three kinds of music:

The Music of Man
The Music of Earth
The Music of Heaven

The Music of Man is what we usually mean by music: instruments, compositions, styles, genres, techniques, systems of taste. It is intentional, cultivated, and deeply human.

The Music of Earth is sound without human design: wind passing through valleys, trees, or hollow spaces, each producing different tones according to their shape. No composer. No audience. Just conditions giving rise to sound.

Then there is the Music of Heaven—the most elusive of the three. This is not “higher” music, nor sacred repertoire. It is the spontaneous resonance of things responding to one another without effort, ownership, or assertion.

Zhuangzi’s quietly unsettling question

Zhuangzi points to the innumerable voices of the world itself—sounds and forms arising spontaneously as conditions shift—which he calls the ‘ten thousand differences’: a boundless plurality in which nothing stands as the source, and everything emerges through relation rather than design. Zhuangzi poses a quietly unsettling question:

“Who is it that blows the ten thousand differences?”

The question undermines the assumption that sound must belong to someone. Even human music, he suggests, may participate in the Music of Heaven—but only when the insistence on authorship falls away.

Expression, Attunement, and a Familiar Modern Pressure

Much contemporary music culture—especially online—rests on an expressive model: music as self-disclosure, output, and signal. We are encouraged to publish constantly, iterate relentlessly, and trust that quantity leads to quality.

For many musicians, this approach is practical, even necessary. I have no quarrel with it, and no interest in disparaging those for whom it is fruitful.

But Taoism invites a different question: not how much music we make, but how music happens at all.

Zhuangzi is not concerned with productivity, consistency, or optimization. He is concerned with interference. The danger is not making too much music, but trying too hard to make music mean something—to assert, impress, compete, or declare.

This is where modern expressive ideals quietly diverge from Taoist thought. The Taoist concern is not authenticity or emotional honesty; it is attunement—the capacity to respond to the music itself, to its rhythms, silences, and subtleties, rather than imposing a will on it. Music goes astray when the self insists on being the source.

A Brief Detour: Confucianism and Buddhism

This Taoist position stands out more clearly when contrasted with two neighboring traditions.

Confucianism treats music as moral technology. Proper music cultivates virtue, stabilizes emotion, and reinforces social harmony. Music is valuable because it shapes people toward an ordered ideal. Zhuangzi’s skepticism toward standards of taste and harmony is, in part, a response to this instrumental view.

Buddhism, especially in its early forms, is wary of music as sensory pleasure—something that can foster attachment and distraction. Later traditions, particularly Zen, soften this stance. A bell, a clap, or a sudden sound can provoke awakening. Yet even here, sound ultimately points toward impermanence and non-attachment.

Zhuangzi’s position is different again. He does not treat sound as moral tool, nor as temptation, nor even as illusion. He treats it as unknowable. The problem is not sound, but the claim that it belongs to us.

Listening as Aspiration

This brings us back to the opening quote.

The idea that “music in the soul can be heard by the universe” assumes that our highest aspiration is to be heard—to project something inward outward, and have it recognized.

Taoism quietly reverses this direction.

In Zhuangzi, music does not elevate the human voice into the cosmos; it tests whether the human voice can fall silent enough to hear what is already sounding.

This is not a call to stop making music. It is a call to notice when music feels forced, anxious, or performative—when it feels like a claim rather than a response.

For some musicians, this perspective can feel alienating in a culture organized around metrics, output, and comparison. For others, it can feel like permission: to work slowly, to listen deeply, to trust intervals of silence, and to let music arise rather than be extracted.

Where I Stand (Quietly)

I do not believe there is one correct path. The Music of Man matters; skill matters; practice matters. But the Music of Heaven does not respond to pressure, volume, or ambition.

If this way of thinking resonates, you are not alone—even if it sometimes feels that way in competitive spaces. Taoism has been quietly offering this alternative for over two thousand years: not a rejection of music, but a refusal to hurry it, own it, or turn it into proof of worth.

Concluding remark

The universe does not need to hear our music. Perhaps the deeper aspiration is learning to listen, fully and quietly, as music arises.

Peace, my friends!

§

Breath control is life control

When I was diagnosed with ADHD I learned there’s solid scientific evidence that controlled breathing techniques can improve focus, help regulate emotions, and reduce stress. While these are all factors that are particularly relevant for managing ADHD, the knowledge is ancient and has benefited the human family for centuries.

4:6 — the golden ratio of breath control

With diaphragm engaged, Inhale for 4 seconds, exhale for 6, through your nose. You will take 10 breaths each minute. Butterflies disintegrate. Anxiety melts away. If you practice several times a day, in about 3 weeks it will become easy.

This is not new!

The integration of biofeedback into ADHD management is, in many ways, a scientific rediscovery of wisdom that has guided monks, yogis, and meditators for millennia. What is new is our ability to measure and fine-tune these techniques with modern tools, offering personalized, data-driven approaches to cultivating focus and self-regulation. For musicians like me, this has a direct impact not only on mental clarity but also on technical precision, fluidity, and expressive depth in performance.

Both modern science and ancient traditions converge on the idea that a longer exhale is beneficial for calming the nervous system, improving attention, and reducing stress. Given that ADHD is often associated with heightened sympathetic activity (fight-or-flight response), techniques that prolong exhalation—such as the 4-second inhale, 6-second exhale pattern I practice—can help restore balance and enhance focus, impulse control, and emotional regulation.

Practices such as pranayama in yoga, zen meditation (zazen), and breath-focused Vipassana all emphasize deliberate control of respiration to calm the mind and enhance awareness. Modern neurofeedback and biofeedback systems mirror the traditional emphasis on deep breathing as a gateway to mental clarity and self-mastery.

Practices that cultivate slow, rhythmic breathing—whether through Buddhism-inspired meditation, yogic breath work, or contemporary HRV (heart rate variability) biofeedback—appear to share a common mechanism: regulation of the autonomic nervous system.

By slowing the breath to around six cycles per minute (a frequency also seen in traditional contemplative practices), these methods increase parasympathetic activity (rest-and-digest response) while reducing excessive arousal in the sympathetic nervous system (fight-or-flight response). This balance fosters greater cognitive control, emotional stability, and resilience—all of which are valuable for musicians striving for peak performance.

A practical way for musicians (and everyone else who wants to try 4:6)

The image above shows Pro Metronome app with settings for 4:6 regulated breath control. Tempo 60, time signature 10/4, subdivision quarter notes. There’s a strong accent set on Beat 1, and a lesser accent on Beat 5.

Why This Works

1. Rhythmic Entraining of the Nervous System

• Using 60 BPM aligns your breathing with a precise, predictable timing, reinforcing autonomic regulation (which ADHD brains often struggle with).
• The 10/4 meter creates a natural musical flow, making it easier to internalize.

2. Motor-Sensory Integration

• Pairing breath with instrument practice strengthens neuromuscular coordination.
• This links timing, attention, and body awareness, making the breathing habit feel automatic.

3. Cognitive & Learning Benefits

• Since tempo perception and working memory are tied to dopamine (which ADHD brains often lack), this method reinforces rhythmic precision, helping with focus and musical accuracy.
• Practising with controlled breathing also helps in phrasing and relaxation, especially for pieces that require precise breath control (for wind instruments, singing, or even string bowing).

Helping Non-Musicians

For non-musicians, a metronome app like Pro Metronome or Soundbrenner can be set to:

• 60 BPM, accent on beats 1 & 5 (for the inhale/exhale structure).
• Used during walking, stretching, or typing to create a subconscious rhythmic breathing pattern.
• Integrated with other rhythmic activities like drumming, clapping, or even pacing during work.

Applied to practice

In most parts of the world today, most of the music most of us hear is in 4/4. I do the 10/4 metronome practice to achieve 4:6 breathing before and after I practice scales, songs, studies and pieces. My goal is to keep breathing, and maintain the relaxation—and serene guitar faces—that brings me. I’m wary of holding my breath while I’m playing. When I make mistakes and become distracted I often notice I’m holding my breath. I believe these techniques could be applied later I may have great benefit, but I believe for the time being, I will stick to my 4;6 ratio during general daily activities, and try not to hold my breath while I’m practising or performing music. But there are good reasons reasons I might try other patterns and techniques in the future.

Other ratios

Box breathing or four-square breathing, is a structured breathing technique that promotes relaxation and focus. It involves four equal phases:

1. Inhale for a count of four
2. Hold the breath for a count of four
3. Exhale for a count of four
4. Hold the breath again for a count of four

This technique is used in mindfulness meditation and stress management, and it has been adopted by groups like the U.S. Navy SEALs to improve focus under pressure.

While box breathing follows a strict symmetrical pattern, other breathing techniques, such as 4-7-8 breathing (inhale for 4 seconds, hold for 7, exhale for 8), emphasize a longer exhalation to stimulate the parasympathetic nervous system. A 2023 study found that just five minutes of breathwork daily, including methods like box breathing, led to greater improvements in mood and physiological stress responses compared to mindfulness meditation alone. Other research suggests benefits such as reduced blood pressure, improved attention, and decreased symptoms of anxiety and depression.

Conclusion

Scientific studies suggest that controlled breathing techniques, including box breathing, can lower stress, improve mood, and even enhance cognitive function. All of the above can only enhance musicianship. Since beginning this practice I notice it takes me less time to memorize pieces and passages. My anxiety levels when playing or recording, and stage fright in general, have decreased profoundly. This is something that has helped me achieve much more than simply remembering where I put my wallet!

§