The similarities ended there. Sammy had marked developmental delays, likely due to his TBI. He required substantial individual support to help him stay regulated and function in daily life. But Sammy also had an easy smile and, although he could concentrate on playing with one object for a long time, his cognitive processing was noticeably slow.

On the other hand, Kyle was a bright child with a large vocabulary who did well in school. Staff members could typically count on him to follow directions and be a role model for the other children. His main challenge was controlling his anger; when in a rage, Kyle would “black out” and get verbally and physically aggressive.

One afternoon, both Sammy and Kyle were dysregulated--meaning their brains and bodies genuinely felt "fear" and they were in active "fight, flight or freeze" mode. On this particular afternoon, both boys were trying to run away, were yelling, and were trying to “act out.” They were not responding to directions or attempts to calm them down.

Kyle and Sammy both consistently responded positively in their music therapy sessions and I had a solid working relationship with both of them. Given this history, I brought my guitar to them. This itself was motivating enough for them to follow my direction to sit on the floor (the first sign they were beginning to calm down). I sang the Beatle's song “Yellow Submarine”--Kyle really liked this song and it was familiar enough to Sammy. I encouraged both boys to rock to the beat (as if they were feeling ocean waves) and, if they wished, to sing along. Both boys remained engaged in listening, singing, and rocking for the duration of the song.

They seemed calm and regulated after the song ended. I asked both boys “What is on your mind?” Kyle, with his strong verbal and introspective abilities, was able to talk about his anxiety over his upcoming visit with his mother. Sammy initially answered “I don’t know”...but two minutes later, he spontaneously broke into a made-up song: “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, I miss my Mom, I wanna go home.”

So what happened that afternoon? How was it that one 5-minute song (paired with my therapeutic relationship with those boys) was able to do what 15 minutes of redirection and nurturing couldn't? How, after processing their feelings for a couple minutes, both boys were calm enough to re-join their peers?

The short answer is--we're still figuring it out. But we have some hints:

• Rocking calms our bodies. This is something we know instinctively--just watch any mother trying to calm her crying baby. From a neuroscience standpoint, there's some evidence that rocking stimulates a structure in our cerebellum called the vermis. And the vermis, in turn, has a role in calming our bodies down.
• Our bodies entrain the rhythm. I've written about this before, how our motor system will automatically match, or entrain, to a steady beat. It happens unconsciously (ever notice yourself tapping your foot to the beat?). As a music therapist, we can use that to help facilitate the rocking.
• Music primes our brain for verbally processing our emotions. I have yet to find proof of this, but I have time and time again witnessed how memories and emotions will be brought to the surface after a child has been in a music therapy session with me. There's some sort of link...just don't know what it is, yet!

The English playwright William Congreve famously wrote “Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.” This story illustrates those “charms.” And modern neuroscience is finally beginning to catch up to what we have observed for hundreds of years.

Follow me on Twitter @KimberlySMoore for daily updates on the latest research and articles related to music, music therapy, and music and the brain. I invite you also to check out my website, www.MusicTherapyMaven.com, for additional information, resources, and strategies.