Mirla Avila
Artist, Composer & Neurologist

Sandeep (00:03)

Today's guest is Mirla, a neurologist, MS specialist, and recording artist whose work brings together medicine, music, and the emotional truths that connect them.

Suraaj Parab (00:15)

Welcome Mirla to Artist Conversation.

Mirla Avila (00:18)

Well, thank you so much for having me. It's a pleasure and an honor to be here.

Sandeep (00:23)

Yeah, we are so happy to have you. We're going to get right into it because we have a lot to talk about. I want to first start with the dream that never disappeared. When did you first fall in love with music? And at what point did you realize that it was never really going to leave you?

Mirla Avila (00:42)

Music has always been a part of my life. I remember writing my first song, and I even still remember the lyrics. I was maybe seven years old. In my mind, it was a whole show—like a musical. It was about a dog and a cat that wanted to be friends, but couldn't be. I still remember the song, and I would sing it to myself and dance to it. In my mind, I was creating a whole Hollywood-type musical.

I had always written my own songs as a child. When I was a teenager, I had a band where I was the singer-songwriter and vocalist. Then I went into medical school, and things got complicated in the sense that I didn't have enough time. At one point, I remember trying to decide between music and show business versus science. I always loved science, too. My dad was a neurologist and a psychiatrist, so I grew up around medicine. But my family on my grandmother's and mom's side was very artistic. My grandmother was an avid pianist, my grandfather was a tenor, my great-grandfather was a movie director in the golden era of Mexican cinema, and my great-grandmother was a singer and actress. So I had a bit of both sides in me.

Back then, you had to choose one path. Either you went into science and medicine, or you left everything and went into show business to see if a label would sign you. At that moment, science had a heavier influence in my family. Also, living in Mexico, they were a bit afraid of how the music industry was in the nineties. They told me, "You're going to be a doctor first, and then you can decide."

But melodies were always with me. When I got married, I wrote a song for my husband and sang it at our wedding. I wrote a song for my daughters when they were born that I sang to them at bedtime. I have a whole children's album of poems and songs I wrote that my daughters grew up listening to, thinking they were traditional folk songs, but they were actually my own original compositions.

It has always been a part of my life, but it wasn't until the end of 2023 that I started putting it out into the world. I remember telling my family, "I wake up with melodies and I don't know what to do with them. They just haunt me. I put lyrics to them and remember them, but I didn't know what I could do." I have a very good friend from my MS fellowship at Baylor who is now in Canada. We used to do these poetry challenges where we'd pick random topics—from something simple like pizza to something deeper like heartbreak. We'd exchange poems back and forth. Eventually, I started turning them into songs, sending him basic guitar or a cappella tracks.

He asked me, "Why don't you try using GarageBand?" I asked, "What is that?" and he said, "It's that little icon on your iPhone." Once I realized I could produce music myself, it opened Pandora's box. I started watching YouTube videos to learn mixing, mastering, recording vocals, and arranging tracks.

After about a year of releasing my music independently, someone who used to be in the music business—and was now working in the medical field—realized I was a neurologist. His name is Edgar. At an MS conference in West Palm Beach, he came up to me and said, "Hey, I've been following your music. Who is your producer?" I told him, "I do everything on my own." He was shocked and said, "No, I need to connect you with someone I know." He introduced me to my current producer, and we've been working together for almost two years now. That's when I started producing music at a more professional level.

I also started taking online songwriting lessons and certificates to improve my skills. I've never taken vocal lessons, so that's something I want to pursue now, along with developing my piano and guitar playing. Initially, it was very nerve-wracking, but now that I have a team backing me up and ensuring a certain standard of quality, things have changed in a great way.

Sandeep (05:52)

That's amazing.

Mirla Avila (06:22)

Thank you.

Suraaj Parab (06:30)

That's really wonderful and amazing. You built an accomplished career in medicine while keeping music as a side pursuit for many years. On top of that, you became a Recording Academy member last year. Congratulations on that!

Mirla Avila (06:48)

Thank you! It was really exciting to join the Recording Academy.

Sandeep (06:53)

Right.

Suraaj Parab (06:56)

I can totally relate to that feeling. Mirla, while balancing all of this, did part of you ever believe it was too late for music? What finally gave you the courage to say yes to pursuing both medicine and music side by side?

Mirla Avila (07:16)

I definitely thought about that, because the typical female singer-songwriter image is often a 20-year-old performing energetic Latin music. As a doctor, you worry about how people will perceive you. I was afraid of how my colleagues and patients would react. At the time, I was also the director of the residency program, holding a leadership position in medicine.

I was very nervous, but I felt this deep drive in my heart. It sounds simple, but it's the truth. I had this overwhelming impulse: I just need to do this. I needed this music to come out. I didn't know how people would respond, but I couldn't keep it to myself. It felt like it had a higher purpose.

I compare it to the beat from the movie Jumanji—that relentless drumbeat that keeps playing. It would wake me up at 2:00 AM or 3:00 AM and wouldn't leave me alone. It was like a constant call to action. I told my husband, "This sounds crazy, but I have two options: either I do this, or I close the door and regret it for the rest of my life." So I decided to go for it.

When my first songs came out, I was terrified because I felt completely exposed and vulnerable. In medicine, we are trained to control our emotions. If you have to give a difficult diagnosis or bad news to a family, you cannot break down with them. You have to stay grounded and composure-driven. Music, on the other hand, demands vulnerability and emotional expression. Learning to open up without feeling overly vulnerable was tough. In the beginning, I barely slept the night before a release.

Interestingly, the first song I recorded professionally is called "Yo sé quién eres", which means "I know who you are" in Spanish. I wrote it very spontaneously—the lyrics and melody just flowed out, and I set it aside. I feel the universe, or God, gave me that song—or perhaps my late father was speaking through it. The lyrics say: "I know who you are. I want to listen to your voice. I live in your heart, I live everywhere... in the ocean, in the air. I know who you are."

When I gave my producer 30 options to choose from, he immediately picked that one. When I asked him why, he said, "I don't know, there's just something about it." When we released it, I realized that the song was actually a message to myself, validating what I needed to do.

Sandeep (11:28)

That's amazing. As a neurologist, you've spent years studying the human brain. What has that taught you about why music triggers memory and emotion so powerfully?

Mirla Avila (11:51)

The more I study it, the more fascinated I am. Even if you listen to a song in a language you don't understand, you can still get goosebumps and feel deep emotion from the melody and vocal delivery.

That happens because sound bypasses standard cognitive processing and goes straight to the amygdala—the brain's emotional center. Music can instantly trigger vivid memories and elicit empathy.

I experienced this firsthand while scoring film scenes with producer Omar Cabrera. (My primary producer for Latin pop and mariachi pop is Ramon Casillas). When I watched raw film footage without audio, it was neutral. But once we added the musical score, it gave you chills.

Music also influences state of mind in other ways—from binural beats syncing brainwaves for meditation and focus, to energizing or unsettling us depending on the frequency. It directly targets the brain's emotional core.

Sandeep (14:09)

It's amazing to hear that medical explanation from a neurologist. Thank you so much for sharing that.

Mirla Avila (14:18)

Of course!

Sandeep (14:20)

We listen to many different genres and languages of music, often sending tracks to each other even when we don't understand every word. Understanding the underlying neurology makes so much sense.

Mirla Avila (14:43)

It really does. There are clinical applications too—music therapy is widely used for neurological conditions like Parkinson's disease and Multiple Sclerosis to improve gait, movement, and spasticity. Music plays a significant role in medicine.

Suraaj Parab (15:02)

I remember seeing a video of a brain surgeon operating on a violinist while the patient was awake and playing the violin during the procedure!

Mirla Avila (15:23)

Yes! They do that to ensure they don't damage critical motor or musical function areas during surgery. The patient stays awake so the team can monitor their responses in real time.

Suraaj Parab (15:32)

In your view, how can music function not just as entertainment, but as a form of medicine?

Mirla Avila (15:50)

Art helps us cope with hardship, chronic illness, and life's challenges. Being creative is part of what makes us human—it distinguishes us from other species. Creativity builds empathy and allows us to express things that words alone can't capture.

While I paint and write poetry, music is my strongest outlet. It allows me to channel what I'm going through, or process what others are experiencing.

In medicine, we're trained to be objective, but art allows us to maintain our humanity. Through my music, I've reconnected with other physicians and medical students who felt they had to abandon their creative passions for medicine. I tell them, "You don't have to give it up."

As doctors, we carry heavy emotional burdens. For example, a few months ago, I had to inform a mother that her 18-year-old son was brain dead following a car accident. As a mother myself, you can't just leave that grief hanging on your lab coat when you go home. You carry that pain with you. Creative expression—whether writing a sad song, a poem, or painting—provides a healthy way to process those intense emotional experiences.

Sandeep (19:18)

Since you've cared for patients during such vulnerable moments, what have they taught you about resilience that finds its way into your music?

Mirla Avila (19:44)

I've learned so much from my patients—sometimes I feel like I'm the one gaining the most from our visits. Initially, I was worried about how they would react to my music, but they've been incredibly supportive. One of my long-time patients of 13 years brings me jewelry to wear in my music videos and offers continuous encouragement.

My patients have taught me profound lessons about resilience and holding onto faith, whether in God, the universe, or a higher power. That strength directly inspires my songwriting. I wrote a song dedicated to Multiple Sclerosis awareness, which I performed at an MS gala in Puerto Rico, and I have another English track in development. My patients inspire my creative work every day.

Suraaj Parab (22:01)

Moving to your musical work, let's talk about your recent album, Monarca. Did the concept behind Monarca take inspiration from your work in neurology?

Mirla Avila (22:37)

Monarca is a mariachi-pop album, and every track holds personal significance.

The first track, "Loca" ("Crazy"), is about being deeply enamored with someone to the point where they occupy your thoughts completely, even when you know it's not meant to be. It blends traditional Mexican mariachi elements with modern pop influences.

Another song, "Migajas", draws inspiration from Harana, a traditional rhythmic folk dance from my hometown of Mérida, Yucatán. I actually wrote it on an airplane while traveling to an MS conference. Planes are great creative spaces for me because there's no Wi-Fi, allowing me to focus entirely on melodies. I built the rhythmic arrangement in GarageBand right there, recorded vocals in my hotel room, and changed my studio recording plans in Miami to focus on this track instead.

The title track, "Monarca", uses the monarch butterfly as a metaphor for transformation and relocation. I wrote it a year ago about leaving something beloved behind. Ironically, right when the album released in May, I was preparing to leave my practice in Lubbock, Texas, to relocate to Miami and start a new MS clinic from scratch. Listening to the final track on Spotify brought me to tears because I realized I had unconsciously written a song to comfort myself through my own upcoming life transition. Each track holds a piece of my heart.

Suraaj Parab (27:09)

That's wonderful. Mexican folk and mariachi elements are fantastic genres. I actually play flamenco guitar myself!

Mirla Avila (27:19)

Really? We should definitely collaborate on a project together!

Sandeep (27:29)

You should send her the Spanish song we recorded together!

Mirla Avila (27:35)

Yes, please send it over! I'd love to listen to it.

Sandeep (27:37)

Suraaj wrote a Spanish song and I sang on it. I don't speak fluent Spanish yet, but living in Southern California, I pick up bits and pieces and am learning.

Mirla Avila (28:00)

You can always practice with me! We should all collaborate on a track together.

Suraaj Parab (28:11)

We have a full band ready—a baritone, a bass player, a pianist, and a flamenco guitarist!

Sandeep (28:20)

At the heart of your work is the belief that music is one of our oldest tools for healing and connection. When people listen to your music, what do you hope they feel or take away from it?

Mirla Avila (28:52)

Once a song is released, it no longer belongs solely to the songwriter—it belongs to the listener. Everyone brings their own experiences and emotional interpretation to a track.

For example, on my Latin pop album, there's a track called "Melodía" about a persistent feeling of romantic obsession or limerence—a medical term describing an intense, intrusive romantic infatuation. So many people reached out to say that track gave them chills or brought back specific memories.

Ultimately, my goal is to express genuine emotion and create a space where listeners can process whatever feelings or comfort they need in that moment.

Suraaj Parab (32:04)

Your journey from medicine to music is truly inspiring, Mirla. Thank you so much for taking the time to share your story with us today.

Mirla Avila (32:16)

Thank you both so much! Congratulations on your music and this wonderful podcast. I appreciate the platform you give to independent artists.

Sandeep (32:45)

It's our absolute pleasure. As independent artists ourselves, we love speaking with creators from all paths. Your story is a great reminder that science and art aren't opposites—they're simply two complementary ways of understanding what it means to be human.

Suraaj Parab (33:18)

To everyone listening, thank you for tuning in! Be sure to check out Mirla's new album Monarca on Spotify, Apple Music, and follow her on Instagram. Share this episode if it resonated with you, and we'll see you next time on Artist Conversation!