Humming offers us a way to carry a piece of ChoirBLAST into our everyday lives. Unlike full singing, humming is something we can do anywhere, at any time. On a walk, in the car, making a cup of tea, or in a quiet moment before sleep -no audience, no pressure, just a gentle sound that belongs entirely to you.

Grief lives in the body. It sits in the chest, tightens the throat, interrupts the breath. And yet, somehow, singing does what speaking cannot. It opens something. It moves something. It allows feeling to flow again. For me, choir singing has become a kind of medicine - not in the way a tablet fixes something, but in the way it gently, repeatedly brings me back to myself, and to others. And science is beginning to explain why.