In a world that seems to hum louder every day, digitally, energetically, and emotionally, Los Angeles-based sound healer and artist Allison Bagg offers a rare kind of quiet. But don’t mistake her softness for subtlety. Her work operates at the intersection of spirit and science, blending vibration, frequency, and breath to help people recalibrate their nervous systems and remember what it feels like to be still.

Her toolkit is expansive: gongs, crystal alchemy bowls, planetary chimes, tuning forks, breathwork, and energy healing. But what truly sets her apart is the way she weaves them together like instruments in a symphony to create deeply personal sonic sanctuaries for both individual and collective healing. Sound, she says, is a Trojan horse for silence. It’s a portal. A way back to yourself.

In conversation, Bagg is both grounded and luminous. Her language oscillates between scientific precision and soulful metaphor, the kind that makes you want to breathe slower. Below, we explore the rituals and practices she relies on to stay anchored amid the noise, along with a few profound lessons on energy, boundaries, and the beauty of listening.

Morning Rituals and Brainwaves

Allison begins each day with the kind of mindful precision most of us only aspire to. “The first 20 minutes after waking up, we’re in an altered brain wave state, the hypnopompic state. We’re half in meditation.” She uses this liminal window for visualization, mantra work, or gratitude, practices that she says can literally rewire the brain.

On ideal mornings, her routine includes tongue scraping, oil pulling, breathwork under a red light panel, and a few minutes of qi gong. But when time is short, she keeps it simple: lemon water, a pinch of salt, and a few quiet moments in the sun. “It doesn’t have to be perfect,” she says. “Presence is enough.”

Understanding Sound Healing

Sound healing, Bagg explains, isn’t as mystical as it sounds. “We’re vibrational beings. Our first sensory experience is the sound of our mother’s heartbeat in the womb, and the last sense to go before we transition is hearing. Sound literally bookends life.”

During a sound bath, frequencies travel through the body, through muscles, bones, and organs, bringing coherence to systems that have fallen out of rhythm. “It’s resonance and entrainment,” she says. “Our hearts and brains begin to sync. The nervous system slows. Healing happens naturally.”

Nature as the Ultimate Reset

When her own system starts to overload from tech burnout or too much digital noise, Bagg heads outdoors. “A simple walk in nature always does the trick,” she says. “We’ve cut ourselves off from the healing resonance of the Earth.”

She describes her sound journeys as an invitation back to silence, a way of offsetting the electromagnetic and emotional chaos of modern life. “Silence in nature is my number one prescription,” she says with a laugh. “Sound just helps us find our way back to it.”

The Language of Instruments

Each of Allison’s tools, from gongs and tuning forks to chimes, holds a distinct personality. “Every instrument is a portal,” she says. “Some are activating, some are grounding, some speak to your inner child.”

Her process is intuitive but intentional. “I think of it as tonal painting. Each sound is a texture that weaves into the larger tapestry of a session.”

Why She Swears by Tuning Forks

While her crystal bowls might get the spotlight, Bagg insists tuning forks deserve more love. “They’re portable, affordable, and powerful,” she says. Weighted forks can be placed directly on the body for a vibroacoustic experience, especially on acupressure points or over the heart. “Try it once and you’ll understand. It’s subtle but deeply calming.”

The Science Behind the Stillness

Sound, she explains, helps the brain shift from fast-moving beta waves into slower rhythms of alpha, theta, and delta, the states associated with relaxation, meditation, and deep rest. “A sound bath is the ultimate hack for meditation,” she says. “You don’t have to force it. The body just responds.”

On Emotional Release

Crying during a sound bath isn’t uncommon. “Sound can wring us out,” Allison says gently. “Sometimes the emotion that surfaces isn’t even ours, it’s ancestral.”

She believes these moments of release are acts of lineage healing. “When we release, we heal seven generations back and seven forward. The key is to trust the body and not overthink it. Let it go.”

The Art of Saying No

As a retired people pleaser, Bagg has learned that boundaries are a form of spiritual hygiene. “Sound helped me come back to my body and create safety within it,” she says. “When you feel safe inside, you stop worrying about what others think. You start claiming your needs.”

She frames her life around cycles of expansion and contraction, creation and rest, and looks to astrology and nature to guide her pace. “Growth edges teach us so much,” she says. “Sometimes the lesson is, I’m never doing that again. Other times, it’s, wow, I can hold more than I thought.”

From Sound to Sight

Though she doesn’t experience synesthesia, Allison’s visual art is deeply informed by her sound work. “Both are storytelling,” she explains. “They’re intuitive mediums of cosmic connection, mirrors that reflect our inner world. What we see or hear is really just a reflection of what’s inside.”

When the Practice Became Medicine

After returning from Egypt in 2019, Bagg experienced what she describes as an energetic flu, a profound ungrounding that felt like a spiritual awakening gone sideways. “Sound brought me back,” she says. “It helped me feel my feelings, not just think them. It guided me from my head back to my heart.”

Energy Hygiene 101

Energetic hygiene, she says, is the cornerstone of her work. “Discernment is key, ask yourself, is this mine? If not, neutralize it.”

Her methods range from visualizing a golden rose that absorbs and neutralizes unwanted energy to physical rituals like handwashing, salt baths, movement, and breathwork. “Think of it like your immune system,” she says. “Don’t wait until you need to clear something, fortify yourself daily.”

For her, that means grounding, moving, and remembering that even healers need holding. “We’re conduits, not sources,” she reminds. “Spaceholders need to be held too.”