I have been to a few Gong Baths now, and the very first one I went to was an awakening of sorts. My friend and I attended with a group of maybe fifteen or twenty strangers, and we all laid on the ground on a yoga mat or blanket, while the practitioner played the gongs for a whopping NINETY minutes. I had no idea what to expect. I just laid there, eyes closed, letting the sounds wash over me. We were encouraged to stay present. Meditate if possible. Well, I was the worst at meditating at this point. Had never been able to tap into the art of meditation. My mind would not quiet. And I understood that meditating was not the process of having NO THOUGHTS, rather, it was noticing the thoughts that were coming up and letting them roll on by like clouds. But my brain still didn’t care. “Oooh, a monkey! What did I eat for lunch? What do I want for dinner? Roast beef. Do I smell? I need new shoes. I really should read more. Do kids still know what Slinkys are? Wait. Meditate. Stop it. You are so bad at meditation. Roast Beef.”
Let’s back up for moment. During a gong bath, a practitioner plays one or multiple Chinese gongs (and sometimes Tibetan Singing Bowls and chimes at the same time) in such a way that vibrations from the instruments wash over the room — thus, “bathing” the attendees in vibrations. Participants in gong baths lay on the floor on yoga mats or blankets, generally with eyes closed, and experience the effects of the vibrations. People tend to operate in a heightened state what with the everyday craziness of life, and the reverberations from the gong helps reset our internal rhythms to a more relaxed state.
Well, the madness of my thoughts was ridiculous at best, but I just couldn’t get the hang of meditating. That is, until the gong put me under its spell. Magically, the sounds of the gong and the changes in tempo and pitch helped bring me back to the present instead of inside the madness of my brain. I would have a thought, but then the gong would ground me and keep me focusing on the ever-changing sounds in the room. I was digging this gong bath thing! At one point, I was so deep in meditation, I swore I could see light purple behind my closed eyes. My friend also had an amazing experience. She and I went to a pizza place afterwards and broke down the event over our slices of pie.
I grew up a sensitive child. A sensitive soul. I was sensitive to others’ comments and actions. Sensitive to news stories and articles. Cried easily. Was quick to take offense and quick to tire and feel malaise. I could tell if a person was upset the second we were in the same room together. Sometimes I would cry out of nowhere and have a sudden shift of emotions. Little did I know, and not realize until shortly after this spiritual awakening, was that I was an Empath. Empaths feel other peoples’ energy and can absorb it as their own, making the Empath feel a little bit out of sorts (nutso) if he or she does not realize they are an Empath! So considering how incredibly attuned to energy I always was, it makes sense that I responded so intensely to the magic of a gong bath ceremony and the massive amounts of energy bouncing around the room.
At its simplest explanation – we are energy. Energy vibrates. We all have our own vibration. When musical instruments are played, they also give off their own vibrations. Energy vibrates at different frequencies and speeds, and so the vibrations from the gongs will resonate differently with each person. Some people may experience elation, others may experience waves of grief or sadness or moments of physical pain, some will leave feeling refreshed and others drained. Since we all vibrate at different frequencies, we will all experience a gong bath differently. (This is also my theory for romantic “chemistry” between people — folks’ energies either resonate with each other harmonically or dissonantly and that is why some people feel so good with some and immediately dislike or feel nothing with someone else. We feel their energy vibrating with ours and it either produces consonant or dissonant waves. Good vibes and bad vibes! But that is a whole different post!)
At future Gong Baths with a different practitioner, and actually the man himself who coined the term ‘Gong Bath’ – Richard Rudris – I truly experienced how immense and healing a gong bath could be. He explained that there would be a section built into his session that was louder and almost aggressive and scary. It could evoke strong emotions, he warned us in advance. The first time I attended Richard Rudris’ gong bath, I fell into the same pattern I had experienced at my first sound meditation — my mind eventually quieted and I fell into a deep meditation of swirling colors. My mantra was “Thank you for my healing,” and I repeated this over and over again in my mind. And ultimately, when the section came that Richard had mentioned — the loud and scary section, I knew immediately that something was happening to my body. Tears started streaming down my face, a release in my muscles perhaps triggering an opening of energy. My body began shaking, convulsing even. My chest felt tight, I felt hot and cold waves of energy moving up and down my body in rapid succession. I was experiencing something that I could not explain. I was scared but I also welcomed the intense feelings. I felt my body opening. Shifting. After the session came to close, I asked Richard what on Earth had happened to me? He described it as a spiritual awakening, that perhaps I was peeling back layers from multiple lifetimes, experiencing release from many incarnations ago. He explained the colors I saw as a connection to intuition and spirit on a high level, perhaps an awakening of Kundalini energy, which he said was key during Gong Baths. He believed I was laying the foundation for healing and energetic work. Pretty out there stuff! But whether I believed it or not, I knew something had pretty substantial had happened that night.
My other friend who came to this same gong bath with me experienced nothing like this. She also had Lyme disease and we had gone together, but she felt none of these shifts, none of the “healing” that I felt. No shaking, no moving energy, no colors, no hot and cold, no nothing. She was bored. And I marveled how two different bodies could respond so differently to the same set of waves and frequencies. We all experience the gong bath differently.
I have continued to access sound therapy and gong baths and consider it a tool in my healing toolbox. I don’t do it often, but I lean into it when I can. If you can find a practitioner offering an event near you or a yoga studio hosting an event, I absolutely recommend trying it out. Out there? Yes. Do you need a very open mind? A thousand times, yes. But worth a try? Hell, yes. Maybe the vibrations won’t gel with your vibrations. But if they do — Wow. Let the healing commence.