The Healing Power of Sound: Returning to Resonance

by Lily-Pearl Schappe-Youens

In a world that rarely stops humming, it can feel almost impossible to find stillness. The noise of daily life, both outer and inner, fills our bodies and minds until we forget what true quiet feels like. For me, that quiet began with a single sound of the deep, resonant tone of a Tibetan singing bowl.

When I first experienced the vibration of sound healing, something inside me recognized it immediately. It wasn’t new; it was ancient, a remembering. I felt it ripple through my chest and out into my limbs like waves returning to the shore. That one sound began to unravel years of tension I didn’t even know I was holding.

Sound has always been part of my story. I was born between two worlds; the open, soulful rhythm of South Africa and the musical heartbeat of Madison, Wisconsin, USA. My childhood was filled with reggae, meditation, yoga, and the constant hum of creativity. My father, a fearless adventurer, and my mother, an eccentric artist, showed me that life was meant to be felt fully and deeply. But my childhood wasn’t always peaceful and easy, it was chaotic too. In that chaos, I learned early that sound and stillness were sanctuaries I could return to, even when life felt loud and uncertain.

Over the past six years, I’ve travelled extensively from the lush tropics of the Bahamas to the vibrant pulse of Miami, following the whispers of my own healing and curiosity. Along the way, I was called to India where I studied yoga and sound healing in Rishikesh, the birthplace of yoga and a place that felt like stepping into the ancient heartbeat of the earth. Those months of deep learning changed everything for me. They taught me that true transformation happens not when we add more to our lives, but when we begin to listen, really listen, to the silence beneath the sound.

Eventually, that inner listening guided me home. Returning to Mama Africa. To the red earth, the vast skies, and the ancestral rhythm that lives in my bones. This one has been the most profound homecoming of all. Coming home this time has reminded me that the grass isn’t always greener elsewhere. After years of chasing new horizons, I now live in what some might call “the middle of nowhere,” aka Aussenkehr, Namibia, and yet I’ve never felt more rooted. Living close to nature has brought me back to what matters most: simplicity, community, and connection to the land itself.

Through my work as a yoga teacher and certified Tibetan sound bowl therapist, I’ve come to see sound not only as a tool for relaxation, but as a bridge to remembrance – a way back to the truth of who we are.

When sound waves move through the body, they don’t just create an audible experience, they create a physical experience. Because our bodies are mostly water, vibration travels through us effortlessly, reaching places even words cannot. The tones produced by metal Himalayan bowls or ocean drums interact with the body’s energy field, supporting balance, circulation, and deep relaxation. This is called entrainment. When our brainwaves begin to synchronize with the rhythm of the sound, shifting us into states like alpha and theta, where true restoration happens.

Every session I facilitate through Melo Pearl is an invitation to return to that natural resonance. It’s a space to rest, to release, and to reconnect with the parts of ourselves that we’ve abandoned in the rush of life. People have even described the experience as “coming home.”

This same philosophy extends into the retreats I host on the banks of the Orange River in Namibia. Nestled between desert landscapes and flowing water, Norotshama River Resort has become a sanctuary for those seeking to reconnect not just with themselves, but with the land. Each retreat is themed, weaving together movement, sound, stillness, and creative exploration. Some are centered on yoga and mindfulness; others include guest facilitators in art, writing, or music. Always, the thread that ties everything together is the remembrance that we belong to nature, to one another, and to the deeper rhythm of life.

There’s something profoundly healing about gathering under wide African skies, listening to the wind move through the reeds and the gentle hum of the bowls echoing against canyon walls. Sound becomes a bridge between the seen and unseen worlds. A reminder that everything in nature vibrates, and that we are part of that same universal song.

As I move between Namibia and South Africa, I feel a deep gratitude for this path and for the people who come to lie down beneath the bowls, for the stories shared around boma fires at night, and for the collective remembering that happens when we pause long enough to listen.

Sound healing isn’t just a practice for the mat or the retreat space. It’s a way of living. One that asks us to tune in to the subtle frequencies of our own lives. When we learn to listen, we begin to hear the wisdom within our bodies, the whispers of our intuition, and the song of the earth beneath our feet.

So perhaps healing is not about becoming something new, but about returning to resonance…to that quiet hum beneath all the noise, reminding us that we are already whole.