When one has deeply felt convictions, it’s nice to have them reinforced. In recent years, I find myself positively preaching about the blessings that pour into a family when the arts assume a central position in the educational process. Included in that phenomenon is the simple fact that singing or dancing (or any creative impulse) is powerful in virtually any situation, be it a joyous moment or a time when comfort is needed to dispel darkness, anger, or grief.

As you might guess, I sometimes go overboard in praising the efficacy of singing our thoughts, rather than speaking or yelling those same words, especially to children. When I say “singing,” I’m referring to more than the happy habit of bursting into “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” or “Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory Of the Coming Of the Lord” when we spot the gorgeous rays of the morning sun. I’m referring equally to moments in a family’s life when things are going poorly, when everybody is mad, or when anxiety clouds our countenance and saps our hope.

How does this work? I’ll give you a few examples. Something as innocuous as the need to walk the dog can be handled in spontaneous song:

It’s time for you to walk the dog, hooray, hooray

(to the tune of The Ants Are Marching Two by Two). Or, in our household, this theme comes up a lot:

I’ve asked you to
sort the clothes
too many times.

If you don’t go
get them your
fate will be mine!

(to the tune of Chim-chim-Cheree). Silly? Yes. Effective? In most cases, amazingly so.

But far thornier situations also can be uplifted through song, whether through a spontaneous utterance to a pre-existing or improvised melody (even a chant-like iteration on the same pitch) or through employing an actual song that expresses comfort or gentle humor. Hymns, of course, serve marvelously in this capacity. Not surprisingly, I love what might be called the master-hymns from our heritage, in particular “Blessed Assurance,” “Oh God, Our Help in Ages Past,” and “I Come to the Garden Alone.” But a veritable host of hymns or inspirational songs will fit the bill, including traditional lullabies and folksongs.

If you already do this kind of singing in your home, then you know what I’m talking about. If not, consider trying it. Yes, you will feel odd or whacky at first. But it’s surprising how quickly a lyrical or danced response can become natural.

I will admit that sometimes I fret as to whether my impassioned pronouncements might be “over the top.” Yet, I continue to get positive feedback from teachers and parents as to just how effective the approach is.

You see, it’s now conference season. We speakers and curriculum providers are back in the saddle (or SUV or tiny airplane seat), heading to various cities across the U.S. We are spending our days once again with a delightful panoply of folks who parade (or wander) through the exhibit halls and attend our talks.

And quite a few of them are telling me how their concerted efforts to communicate through music or motion is working small miracles: they are singing more and barking less; dancing more and harrumphing less. In short, they are finding clever, easy ways to emphasize the beautiful, the good while chasing away anger and sadness.

Whether or not we recognize it, we are continually responding to the drama of life. We can cultivate the habit of singing and dancing through the complex emotions of that drama, often with surprisingly good results. You may surprise yourself with how creative you can be in this quest, if you give yourself permission to try.