The ListeningRoom

Song turns up in nearly every human society on record, and the lullaby is one of the few forms that appears everywhere. Someone can hear a lullaby in a language they have never encountered and know what it is.

For most of us, though, being sung to belongs to a season of life. Somewhere in childhood the singing goes quiet, and many adults will never again have another person sing to them alone, on purpose, with nothing else going on. I think of that as a real loss — and a strange one, because none of it was ever supposed to be only for children.

Being sung to is grounding. It brings you back into your body, and into contact with your own feeling. It can be energising or steadying depending on what you arrive with, and sometimes it brings up things you had not planned to think about. What I offer here is a way back to that — a space to feel seen, to receive, to become a little more attuned to yourself.

This is not therapy and it is not a performance you watch from a distance. It is closer to a kind of rest and connection we stopped making room for.

I play for an hour — voice, tongue drums, koshi, kalimba, crystal bowl. Nothing is preset; what I sing comes out of the conversation we have at the start, so no two sessions are the same.

Sixty minutes. Online, or in person in Rabat. $126.

Book a sound journey →

An hour together, in three parts.

We begin with a conversation. That is how I connect to where you are, and what I play comes out of it. Then you settle however you want to be: lie down, sit, squat, whatever makes you feel grounded, comfortable, attuned. Then the sound journey. At the end there is time to come back, and to say anything you want to say.

I use my voice, and I have a few instruments — koshi, kalimba, crystal singing bowl, guitar, tongue drums. There is ambient music underneath that I layer my voice over. I usually burn oud, palo santo, or sage. I wear headphones, so I am hearing exactly what you are hearing.

I don't work from a preset playlist. When I sing, I am channeling what wants to come — what feels aligned in the moment, for you.

You don't have to do anything with any of it. Most people close their eyes. Some fall asleep. There is no technique involved and nothing to follow along with.

Sessions run in English, French or Darija. Say which when you book. For most people the language they rest in is not the one they work in.

Music seems to be something humans do everywhere. We sing to babies, to each other, alone, in ceremony, in grief, in celebration. Across very different cultures, the forms change, but music keeps appearing.

The Harvard Music Lab has spent years studying this across societies. Their work suggests that song is not an ornament of human life. It is one of the things humans seem to make, again and again.

Sound is also physical. It is vibration moving through matter. And matter can resonate: under the right conditions, one vibration sets something else vibrating too.

I like that word, resonance, because it describes something I recognize in listening as well.

A note catches somewhere. A voice gives you goosebumps. Your body softens. Something you weren't thinking about comes to the surface.

Something in the sound meets something in you.

That's what I mean here by resonance.

I started singing before I started really talking. I have been singing for as long as I can remember.

When I was a toddler my parents gave me a tiny piano, and I could play nursery rhymes on it by ear. Music is who I am.

I have written songs to feel more connected to who I am, and to heal wounds. Over time, my voice has been felt by others as healing. So I build these sessions around my voice.

In July 2026 I completed a twelve-hour Level 1 initiation in sound healing with Shenti Sounds.

When I give my voice and my music, I receive at the same time. That is how I see these sessions.

I am also a researcher and university professor. I study what constitutes quality education across ages, subjects, and settings.