The Importance of Sincere Creative Expression
When trusting artists’ creative urges, music becomes imbued with a quality that might be essential for it to be therapeutic.
Please note:
Part of a series: This article is part of a series of essays, where for the first time I’ll be sharing details around the creative processes and theoretical foundations developed at Wavepaths around music composition for psychedelic therapy.
Music for/as psychedelic therapy: To enhance readability in these articles, I’ll primarily use phrases like “music for psychedelic therapy”, “music for therapy”, “therapeutic music”, or “music for/as psychedelic therapy”. Unless otherwise specified, these terms can be understood interchangeably. Broadly, they refer to our wider work composing music for varied therapeutic settings, encompassing not only psychedelic therapy but also methods such as breathwork, body work, experiential psychotherapies, and more.
This is a shortened version of a larger article that will be published on a later date, called “Fears for the Subjective”. This short version serves as an introduction, starting with exploring how and why our approach to music composition places significant value on the artists’ creative instincts.
Prelude
When it comes to selecting music for psychedelic therapy, there is a growing interest for music that is “science-backed” or “evidence-based”.
This focus is, in many ways, a wise intention. It acknowledges the deeply personal nature of music and the sensitivities involved when selecting music for care-seekers being guided into altered states of consciousness for therapeutic purposes. It recognizes the importance of filtering through one's own subjectivities when selecting music for others’.
Many start to use Wavepaths for this reason, and view it as an important scientific contribution to the field. While it is certainly true that scientific research informs our work in a variety of significant ways, there are other aspects to our work that I came to recognise to be at least as important as the science.
These have to do with the ways we incorporate subjectivity in our work. And this series was initiated in order to shed more light on this for the first time. Specifically, the series is discussing this in the context of our music composition process.
My hope with this is not merely to inspire readers with the creative processes that we have developed, but to start exploring the observation that decisions involved in selecting music for psychedelic therapy share surprising parallels with debates about the qualifications required for psychedelic therapists. While musical choices have so far faced less scrutiny than decisions about what makes a qualified therapist, both require an understanding of the proper place of subjectivity in this field.
As this article will start to reveal, our approach is characterized by placing significant value on the artists’ personal creative urges. This is based on our premise that music as a “sincere creative expression” might be essential for its therapeutic impact.
Fears for the Subjective
In the academic research I engaged in from 2011 onward, I observed a common tension between scientific research criteria on the one hand and psychotherapy standards on the other hand. The Lykos-FDA event of this summer is a notable example of where this unresolved disconnect culminated into a turning point.
As someone who extensively studies both science, psychotherapy, and music, I started to recognize an underlying thread that we could refer to as the tension between two fundamentally different poles: “the objective versus the subjective”.
This is of course an age-old philosophical dilemma (For example, “Positivism vs. Phenomenology,” “Mind vs. Body,” “Reductionism vs. Holism,” or “Empiricism vs. Constructivism” in epistemology).
But it has taken on a renewed expression in the development of psychedelic therapy.
Navigating and fine-tuning our discriminative capacities to know where we need to enable subjectivity, versus where we should not, might potentially be one of the most important and simultaneously challenging tasks at hand in this field.
Subjectivity in Music
This balancing act has found a unique expression in our work in composing music and developing evidence-based music guidelines for psychedelic therapy. One foundational insight that guides us here, is that objectivity and subjectivity each have in fact a unique authority.
In this article, I will explore how we resolve this tension in the context of our music composition process.
As I said in the prelude section, decisions around music for psychedelic therapy share parallels with debates about the required qualifications for psychedelic therapists - and the balancing of standards in clinical drug research versus psychotherapy.
Foremost, like a therapist's presence in the room, music introduces a highly subjective element to the therapeutic process. Given this overlap, I believe that our approach may have a broader significance. Both the choices around music and the qualification-criteria for therapist require an understanding of the proper placement of the subjective in the therapy method.
For those seeking a more elaborate deep dive on these points, soon I will publish an extended version of this article. This will provide a more elaborate and referenced exploration of the various thought processes that underlie the reasons why we give authority to the subjective in the ways we do, and in specifically, the creative instincts of musicians.
The focus of this version of the article is primarily to function like an introduction to this complex theme. As a means of illustration, it will start by primarily focussed on the how: the concrete ways we incorporate the subjective within our music composition process.
To ensure that this article is still sufficiently integrated and can still be read as a stand-alone, I will start by providing a very brief summary of the why over the next paragraphs. Subsequently, I will introduce one of our first compositional principles, followed with concrete examples of how this manifests in our composition process.
Sincere Creative Expression
These three words—sincerity, creativity, and (personal) expressiveness—capture the essence of this one compositional principle that I am introducing here. It is based on the premise that there is a distinct and essential role for the sincerity of the creative process of musicians in facilitating therapeutic experiences with their music.
With this being distinctive I am saying that the effects of sincerity perceived in music cannot be fully replicated by other therapeutic components like talk therapy or the therapeutic relationship.
By referring to this as essential I am saying that its presence is considered a necessary condition (i.e. a prerequisite) for the healing process to be most effective.
To be absolutely clear: I am NOT claiming that music is inherently essential for psychedelic therapy to be effective (see this article for more on this point). What I am asserting is that the music selected for psychedelic therapy must be a product of genuine creative expression by the creator to be effective in facilitating therapeutic experiences.
Sincere Non-verbal Communication
As I will emphasize in the upcoming extended version of this article in much more detail, this principle is not based on meta-physical notions. It has actually all to do with a growing understanding in how sincerity is expressed inside the meticulous details and nuances of the acoustic properties present in sound, voice and in music. And how these are differently processed and perceived in psychedelic states of consciousness.
As I have discussed in detail elsewhere, the therapeutic potential of music can be defined by its role as a pre-linguistic (pre-verbal or non-verbal) form of communication. Music can, in short, be seen as an organization of sound in time, conveying particular subjective process.
Here, I argue that for music to convey such subjectivity effectively—meaning that the pre-linguistic communication of music should evoke a direct subjective experience in the listener, rather than just a thought, association, or abstraction—it must be perceived as sincere and authentic.
This perceived sincerity is about the music being perceived as real and relatable — not merely a performance, but a genuine human expression of a subjective process that engages both personal and collective, conscious and subconscious parts of the listener.
Our ability to detect authenticity through acoustic features such as pitch variability, rhythm changes and tone color characteristics is extremely well developed. This “Sonic Theory of Mind” evolved most likely to aid critical survival skills, such as (amongst others) the formation of important social bonds and attachments - from pre-birth throughout our entire life-span.
The Significance of the Creative Urge
As will become increasingly clear as this series progresses, our music is not necessarily originating from a strict protocol of compositional requirements. For example, instructions to musicians about research-informed acoustic properties we might be looking for.
Instead, our music is largely originating from a process that we designed that explicitly encourages musicians to be deeply and sincerely personally engaged with the act of composing.
By trusting and encouraging musicians to give into their “Creative Urge” most fully, their resulting immersions and confrontations with archetypal processes become most directly and authentically expressed inside their resulting music. Some of the contributions on our platform that displayed maybe the most impressive personal involvements of this sort, also correlate most strongly with its reported popularity and efficacy - amongst both patients and therapists.
Many (if not all) of the great masters of psychotherapy (Ex: Carl Jung, Donald Winnicott, Marion Milner, Erich Fromm, Rollo May, and more) viewed creativity and the creation of art as unique means to connect with deeper layers of the (unconscious) mind.
But it was Otto Rank in particular who focussed in detail on how “true art” will only emerge from the artist's personal experiences and inner conflicts - the resulting art reflecting a confrontation with their unconscious.
By being “fully identified” with, and some may even say “lost and immersed within” this “confrontation with the unconscious”, the “voice” of the musician will be most authentically expressed. This sincerest expression will then contain and symbolize the language of archetypal process in musical form, that despite originating from the musician's deepest personal involvement, paradoxically becomes most universal.
Such music becomes thereby most impactful for therapeutic work. As I explained elsewhere:
The non-verbal language of music never communicates about concrete objects or concepts. At least when instrumental and free of lyrics. Music only conveys abstractions of subjective processes.
For example, a piece of music might communicate a process of grief. This music will not be about grief for a specific person or event. The music will remain entirely confined to conveying the dynamics of the grieving process. Not the content of the grieving. It will remain to the listener to project into these sonic abstractions their own personal content.
Listening to music is therefore a highly creative act. It encourages an ongoing flux of meaning-making. It facilitates a dance of personal associations, patterned in time. Music can thereby invite the listener to stay connected with the more personally significant dimensions of the experience.
Examples of Composition Guidelines
In light of the previous discussion, it becomes clear why selecting the right musicians for collaboration becomes an extra delicate and important process. I will explore this aspect of our work in more depth in a future article too.
Here, I will share examples of how our composition guidelines are designed to encourage the principle of “Sincere Creative Expression”—how we help transform this abstract concept into real musical outcomes.
1. No scientific guidelines.
To ensure that the musicians draw their inspiration from their most personal involvement, we deliberately avoid sharing detailed insights from our scientific research with them. The goal is to preserve the authenticity of their creative process, allowing them to tap into their own creative instincts and urges as fully as possible. If we do offer any guidance, we tend to constrain ourselves to broad, open-ended suggestions or examples of certain qualities that might fit this therapeutic context.
This approach respects the organic nature of the musician’s creative intuition, avoiding rigid frameworks that could potentially obstruct genuine self-expression. We aim to create an environment where the musicians are free from external expectations (Despite these being commissioned productions).
2. Improvisation
At the heart of our process is the encouragement of improvisation. We invite artists to explore freely, using their unique styles, instruments, and interpretations. We believe an improvisational approach is key to maintaining the authenticity of the musical expression, as it allows each musician to create in the moment, responding directly to their own feelings and instincts.
Based on the profile of the musician and their instrument, as well as the therapeutic goals for the session, we typically provide a selection of backing tracks created from other musicians' contributions. These tracks serve as a foundation, but they are intended to be built upon and reshaped through the artist's spontaneous expression.
This method ensures that the music is grounded in a real musical dialogue, where each contribution is a response to what has also come before, creating a living, evolving, non-linear soundscape. By prioritizing improvisation, we aim to capture the most raw and unfiltered essence of the artist’s expression.
3. Ritualisation
To deepen the musician's engagement with their creative process, we offer a range of (optional) suggestions for approaching their composition ritualistically. These different components are provided to help turn the compositional experience into a personal journey.
Beyond the usual and obvious aspects of ritual—such as disconnecting from outside distractions, or engaging in meditation exercises before and after—our composition process includes specific elements we designed to encourage a more direct engagement with the subconscious mind.
Some of these elements include:
Stories of Care-Seekers' Journeys: Diverse series of vivid and detailed narratives about what individuals might experience during a psychedelic therapy session. Although imaginary, these stories are inspired by real-world case-studies and experiences and illustrate a wide range of therapeutic processes. For example, a story might describe a person confronting overwhelming anxiety, immense hyper–vigilance, a profound vulnerability, or a deep cry for help. Another narrative may be depicting a long-suppressed grief finally finding release, gradually or suddenly. Another story could describe the process of settling into a profound sense of liberation. Other stories may focus on the importance for a patient to express pent-up anger, while another may detail the experience of a deep inner stillness.
Personal Devotion: Musicians can dedicate their composition experience to a specific person or a meaningful life event. For instance, a visit to a highly significant loved one on her dead-bed - “What music might I play for this person in her final hours of life?”. Others examples include compositions dedicated to the processing and grieving such loss. One musician created his music in re-connection and re-living a unique memory a “quietest and deepest, experience of peace” felt after forgiving a long-held and past hurtful action of a family member.
Postlude
In summary, our composition approach is not only built upon a trust in the artists’ creative urges, but also on the premise that only then music becomes imbued with a quality of “sincere creative expression” that might be essential for it to be therapeutic.
This approach originated from our intention to navigate and resolve the tension highlighted at the beginning of this article—the disconnect between “the objective and the subjective.” It represents an ongoing effort on our behalf, that may needless to say not be perfect and is in constant evolution, to develop a better sense of where subjectivity belongs and where it does not.
As I’ve mentioned, this balancing may be one of the most critical and challenging tasks for the psychedelic therapy field, and more broadly, any form of mental health care. There are -as I said earlier- interesting parallels between considerations around “ideal qualifications” for both music and therapists, that I will therefore explore in more depth in the extended version of this article.
This series will continue to illuminate different ways we integrate subjectivity into our work, at first. Future articles will explore inspirations from eco-psychology, ethnomusicology, neuroscience and much more.
Importantly, I will increasingly introduce contrasting examples where instead the scientific methods does shape our compositional process in very significant ways . These examples will include predictive models, categorisation of music, understanding distinct therapeutic effects of music, and determining which music to play for whom and when—along with what should be avoided.
Dear Mendel, thank you for inviting me to continue our dialogue in this space.
There's clearly deep care and intention behind your work, and I appreciate how sincerely you're exploring the role of subjective expression in healing. A few thoughts surfaced while reading that I offer not in critique, but as part of an ongoing inquiry we might be sharing.
Authenticity and sincerity do seem essential when healing from what we've thought; when the mind begins to question its own conditioning, its own conclusions. And perhaps music, when it is not trying to achieve or impress, can touch something far more direct than interpretation.
But I wonder about the phrase "projecting our own meaning into music". If the music expresses something truly beyond thought - beyond belief or interpretation - then is meaning something to be projected at all? Or can the listener just listen, without the need to extract, explain, or apply?
That leads to another question around creativity. When we speak of improvisation, ritual, or even scientific composition methods, are these not still forms of process? And is process, even when novel, still the known? We often speak of spontaneity as the mark of creativity, but if it follows a pattern, a memory, a learned response, is it still truly creative? Or is it an echo of something already absorbed and rehearsed?
In that sense, maybe we must be careful not to name the structure of the work as the source of its creativity. Whether ritual or random, a method may still conform to what has already been. And if we are truly exploring authenticity, perhaps we must ask whether that quality can be summoned at all. Or only allowed when the self steps aside.
The same could be asked about psychedelic therapy. Is it an encounter with something that ends thought, or does it operate within the field of thinking, belief, and identity? If experience becomes the focus, does that not reinforce a reality that still moves within imagination and memory, even if it feels novel?
Many traditions speak of the "unconscious" as the source of creativity. But do we really know what that word means? Is it a fact, or a placeholder for what we haven't yet looked at directly? When art is described as paradox, do we illuminate something, or return to metaphor and mystery, when perhaps clarity is available?
And one last thing. If listening becomes participatory, is it still listening? The moment identity enters, is there not already a subtle interpretation at work? Can thought listen? Or must it fall completely quiet for there to be any real contact?
All this to say: I fully resonate with your sense that music carries something primal, immediate, beyond language and symbol. And that this may be essential. But perhaps what allows us to hear that movement is not adding process or projection, but quieting the whole machinery of becoming.
In that space, something real might be heard.
I'll also share this in my feed to invite more visibility and attention to the topic.