WHEN I first walked through the doors to rehearse with the Belfast Rock Choir, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Part of me felt like a nervous schoolboy again, waiting to find my place amongst strangers, while another part of me was quietly excited.
It had been many decades since I last sang in a choir, back in the 1960s in fact, when I was a Clonard choirboy. Those memories are warm and precious: the discipline of rehearsals, the smell of old hymn books, the thrill of filling Clonard, with sound that seemed larger than any one of us could produce alone. Returning to the Rock Choir now, in a very different stage of my life, brought with it a mixture of nostalgia and discovery.
From the very first session, what struck me was the warmth of the welcome. The Belfast Rock Choir is not about auditions, judgement, or competition; it’s about people coming together with open hearts and voices. Within minutes, I was no longer a newcomer but part of something greater, a community bound by rhythm, harmony, and laughter. Singing shoulder to shoulder with others, I felt that same sense of belonging I had known as a boy, but this time enriched by the knowledge of how precious connection is in adult life.
One of the most remarkable aspects of the Rock Choir is its sheer scale. It isn’t only Belfast, or even the North of Ireland. The Rock Choir stretches across England, Scotland and Wales, with choirs in almost every city and county throughout the UK. Once you join, you become part of that nationwide family. You could find yourself in London one week, Edinburgh the next, and still walk into a Rock Choir rehearsal as though you had always been there. The music might be the same, but each group carries its own magic, its own local spirit, and yet the sense of familiarity travels with you. That idea of belonging anywhere is both liberating and comforting.
And the benefits are not merely musical. There is something profoundly therapeutic about singing. It lifts the mood, steadies the breath, and loosens the weight of the day. In choir, stress seems to dissolve into melody, anxieties are carried away on harmonies; and laughter, inevitable when a lyric goes astray or a note cracks out of tune, becomes its own kind of medicine. The act of singing together releases tension and fills the body with energy. It is no exaggeration to say that the Rock Choir nourishes mind and body alike.
I realised, as the rehearsals went on, that joining wasn’t simply about revisiting an old passion. It was about reclaiming a piece of myself that I had left behind all those years ago when life pulled me in other directions. Back then, as a Clonard choirboy, I learned the discipline of music and the joy of shared voices. Today, as a Rock Choir member, I have rediscovered those joys in a new form, less formal perhaps, but every bit as powerful in its ability to bind people together.
Walking out of rehearsal, with a tune still echoing in my head, I felt the same as I did all those years ago: uplifted, connected, and grateful to be part of something bigger than myself. Choirs, I’ve learned twice now in my lifetime, are not just about singing, they are about community, wellbeing, and the shared human spirit.
And last but not least, a big shout-out to our local leader Clare Galway, who is a gem and conducts not with a baton, but a magic wand.
