🎙️ Weekly Insight #54 -Re-Entry and the Power of Hello

La rentrée begins with a simple hello

What your breath and tone reveal in a single word.

A “hello” seems simple. One word, often tossed out without thought. But if you pay attention, that first moment tells you a lot about your voice.

In France, late August and early September carry a special name: la rentrée — the “re-entry.” It’s the season when people return from summer travels to school, work, and community life. There’s an energy to it, a feeling of fresh beginnings.

We all have our own version of la rentrée. It’s that moment of re-entry, when you step back into meetings, classrooms, or gatherings. And the first thing you offer in those moments is often a simple “hello.”

Think about the last few times you greeted someone:

• On the phone
• Passing a neighbor
• Walking into a meeting
• Tired at the end of the day
• Energized at the beginning of one

Each of those “hellos” probably sounded different. Breath, energy, resonance, and connection all shifted with the situation.

I remember learning this lesson firsthand when I first lived in France. One morning, on my way to an audition, I was pressed for time and rushing to find a metro stop. I stopped a street cleaner and blurted out, “Pouvez-vous m’aider?” — “Can you help me?” My voice was hurried, my mind already ahead of the moment. The person smiled, paused, and simply replied, “Bonjour.” In that instant I realized I had skipped the essential first step. In France, whether you’re asking directions or ordering at a pâtisserie, the greeting comes first. And what that bonjour allows is a moment to breathe and ground yourself before you launch into your request. But it also does something more: the intention behind that greeting changes the whole interaction. The exchange begins with recognition, not demand, and it takes on a different quality.

What I learned in that moment stayed with me. I began to notice how a greeting could set the entire tone of an interaction. There was a bakery I often visited in the 9th arrondissement where this was especially clear. The woman behind the counter would say “Bonjour” with such warmth and musicality that it lingered with me as I sipped my coffee and ate my favorite pastry, a chausson aux pommes. That small word carried more than politeness — it carried welcome, connection, and even joy.

A quick reflection exercise

The next time you say hello, pause for a half-second before speaking.

Notice the breath you take — shallow, lifted in the chest, or grounded lower in the body.
Feel the vibration in your sound. Did it carry forward with steadiness, or did it fade quickly?
Pay attention to resonance — where in your body do you feel it, and how is it supported?
Watch how the other person responds. Did your “hello” draw their attention, or did it pass by unnoticed?

No need to change anything yet. Just notice. Awareness is the first step.

Why it matters

“Even in small matters, it is no small thing.” — Epictetus

A single word like “hello” may seem trivial, but it’s a doorway into noticing breath, resonance, and energy.

“Do not explain your philosophy. Embody it.” — Epictetus

Awareness alone can change the way you sound. But awareness combined with regular, intentional practice can transform how you use your voice day after day.

This is something my teacher Margaret Harshaw often emphasized. She suggested that short, focused sessions often build more than long, drawn-out practice. She described a 12-minute practice regimen — not a rule, but a possible framework. One session might be used in the morning to set your body up for the day, and another later to focus on a specific area.

That’s where we’ll go next week: how a short daily reset can give your voice the same steadiness you just noticed in something as simple as “hello.”

Your “hello” is small, but it isn’t insignificant. It’s often the first sound someone hears from you. Becoming aware of it is a simple way to bring more steadiness into your everyday voice— and a reminder that awareness always begins in the smallest, most ordinary moments.

Further Reading

If you’d like to explore related posts from earlier in this series:

Weekly Voice Insight #14 – Your Voice as Your Calling Card
Weekly Voice Insight #25 – The Listener’s Perspective: Hearing Yourself Objectively
Weekly Voice Insight #40 – Small Practices, Big Shifts — Building Vocal Presence in Daily Life



Elias Mokole Keynote Speaker, BA & Beyond 2025 | Voice Presence & Change Founder, Developing Your Authentic Voice Newsletter.

Please subscribe here

#DevelopingYourAuthenticVoice #VoiceMatters #Clarity #Presence #EmotionalIntelligence #LeadershipCommunication #ListeningSkills #StoicWisdom #Epictetus #Hello #VoiceAwareness #LaRentree #EverydayPractice

🎙️ Weekly Insight #53- Your Voice Story, Revisited

                                  

A pair of MuppetMe’s show the truth—voice is never solo.

Beginning again with breath, presence, and the art of listening.

Maybe you’ve been told your voice is too quiet. Or too much. Or too flat, too foreign, too young, too old. Most people carry some version of that story. And most people have never been shown what to do with it.

So let’s start with you. Take a moment to think about these:

Listening back – When you hear your own voice on a recording, what’s your first reaction? Do you avoid it, or are you curious? Why?


Describing yourself – If someone asked you to put your voice into words, what would you say? Too high? Too low? Clear? Raspy? Even? Uneven?


Hearing others – When you listen to someone else, what makes you lean in? Is it the steadiness of their breath, the variation in their tone, the way they pace their words?


Language of preference – Think of a voice you like. Can you explain why? Is it warmth, strength, calm, energy, or something else?


Awareness of breath – When you speak, where do you notice your breath? In your chest, your shoulders, your belly? And when you listen to others, how does their breath shape the way their voice comes across?

There are no right or wrong answers here. The goal isn’t judgment—it’s awareness. The more clearly you can describe what you hear, the more clearly you can begin to work with your own sound.

For many people, the hardest part is simply hearing their own voice from the outside. On a recording, it rarely matches what you expect. Inside your body, you hear resonance through bone and tissue. On playback, you hear the stripped-down version that everyone else hears. That mismatch can feel uncomfortable—even discouraging. We’re wired to be critical, and the first impulse is often to pick apart every detail we dislike. But playback also gives you a chance to hear the beauty in your sound—your natural pitch range, the color or timbre, the unique way your voice vibrates. No other vibration is quite like it. That’s what makes your sound different from anyone else’s. It reminds you that voice is both inner experience and outward connection.

Epictetus, the Stoic teacher I’ve often quoted here, has a way of cutting through noise. He reminds us that the voice isn’t just about speaking—it’s paired with the faculty of hearing. To listen well, he says, is its own art.

That matters because your voice doesn’t exist on its own. It’s always meeting someone’s ear. The way you listen—curious, distracted, patient, hurried—shapes what another person feels free to say.

And it works the other way too. The way you speak gives others something worth listening to. One person breathes out, another breathes in. That shared act—voice and listening together—is where connection actually happens.

I keep coming back to Epictetus because his focus is always on what we can actually use. He isn’t abstract about the faculties—he’s practical. If the divine gave us reason, speech, and hearing, then our task is to use them well.

“The divine has given you the most excellent faculties: reason, speech, and the power to hear.” — Epictetus

That’s exactly the same challenge we face with voice today: not to wish for a different sound, but to work with the one we’ve been given, in the presence we already carry.

Voice isn’t an elite skill. It’s a universal faculty—one of those gifts every human carries. In that sense, voice really is a kind of superpower. It’s how vibration inside you becomes connection with someone else.

That’s why we begin again here. This isn’t about fixing your voice. It’s about noticing how breath, tone, and presence already live in your body—and learning to use them in a way that fits your reality.

Over the past year, I’ve shared 52 ways of looking at voice. What connects them all is a simple truth: voice isn’t a performance trick. It’s not five tips for confidence or a set of habits you borrow from someone else.

Voice is lived. It’s the sound of breath made physical, thought made shareable, presence made tangible.

As we step into a new year of Weekly Insights, here’s what you can expect:

Short, practical ways to notice your voice in daily life


Tools for working with breath and tone without leaving your body and brain behind


Reflections that connect voice to leadership, listening, and everyday presence

If you’ve been following since Week 1, welcome back. If this is your first time here, welcome in. Either way, your voice story matters—and we’ll keep exploring it together.

If You’d Like to Follow Along

I write weekly reflections like this—on voice, breath, presence, and communication in everyday life. If you’d like to follow along:

📝 P.S. You can find more voice reflections and weekly insights on the blog anytime: https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com 📚 Browse full blog archive

If you’d like to revisit earlier posts connected to this week’s theme, take a look at:

Weekly Voice Insight #1 – Discovering Your Unique Voice: Hearing Yourself as Others Do-https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2024/08/weekly-voice-insights-1-discovering.html


Weekly Voice Insight #21 – Registers, Range, and Tessitura -https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/01/weekly-insight-21-discovering-gift-of.html


Weekly Voice Insight #33 – The Uh-Huh Drill: Resonance and Tone-https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/04/weekly-insight-33-pitch-presence-and.html


Weekly Voice Insight #41 – Giving the Benefit of the Doubt - https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/05/weekly-insight-41-quiet-power-of-giving.html


Weekly Voice Insight #49 – Breath Isn’t the Fix—Awareness Is -https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/07/weekly-insight-49-breath-isnt-fix.html

Join me:

Elias Mokole Keynote Speaker, BA & Beyond 2025 | Voice Presence & Change Founder, Developing Your Authentic Voice Newsletter.

Please subscribe here

#DevelopingYourAuthenticVoice #VoiceMatters #Clarity #Presence #EmotionalIntelligence #LeadershipCommunication #ListeningSkills #StoicWisdom #Epictetus

🎙️ Weekly Insight #52 -52 Weeks of Developing Your Authentic Voice

Linda and I, working on Beautiful Dreamer —from week one to week 52 — keeping the dream in tune.

How a steady practice of writing has deepened my understanding of attention, breath, and tone.

Fifty-two weeks ago, I began this series with a simple commitment: to share one reflection each week on voice, communication, and the ways they connect to how we live and work. It wasn’t about chasing perfect words. It was about showing up, every week, with something worth saying.

Some weeks, ideas arrived fully formed. Other weeks, I had to coax them out, like a voice warming slowly at the start of rehearsal. But I showed up. And in doing so, I learned something unexpected: reviewing what I’d written was just as valuable as writing it.

Looking back at earlier pieces, I can see the Develop Your Authentic Voice framework taking clearer shape. In the beginning, “attention–breath–tone” was an idea I could explain, but now it’s something I can track in my own practice and hear in others. That evolution didn’t happen in one leap—it came from writing, testing, refining, and returning to the same themes with fresh eyes.

The review process taught me to listen for patterns:

• Where attention faltered and where it focused.
• How breath either opened space or closed it down.
• How tone shifted when clarity of intention was present.

Sharing these concepts internationally—in Copenhagen and Utrecht—deepened my understanding in a way that private reflection never could. In those rooms, I saw how different cultures responded to the same principles, and how certain ideas, like the connection between breath and attention, transcended language barriers. It reminded me that while techniques can be taught, real connection is something people feel in the moment.

What I’ve Noticed

Over the year, certain themes have kept resurfacing. Authenticity has moved from a background value to a central standard—especially as we navigate a world of AI voices that can sound warm but remain empty of lived truth. Attention–breath–tone has become a living practice, shaping not only my teaching but how I listen to myself and others. I’ve explored how presence, more than polish, draws people in; how tone builds trust or erodes it; and how reviewing past work sharpens both awareness and articulation.

I’ve also seen how these principles travel. Whether in a conference hall in Utrecht, a workshop in Copenhagen, or a one-on-one lesson, the essentials of human voice—clarity, breath, tone, and the intention behind them—translate across cultures. And through it all, I’ve kept returning to the idea that voice is not just a skill but a mirror for thought.

This work has also been collaborative in ways I didn’t expect. Week by week, I’ve had to refine the ideas that come out of brainstorming—often in conversation, often through testing and re-shaping until they express what I truly mean. That process has sharpened my thinking about where I want this work to go, and it has made me more deliberate about how I connect each insight to the larger purpose of Develop Your Authentic Voice.

It’s also been encouraging to see this steady practice find its audience. As the series approaches 100 subscribers on LinkedIn, I’m reminded that showing up consistently matters—not just for my own clarity, but because it invites others to join the conversation. That slow, steady growth tells me these ideas resonate, and that the voice work we explore here is finding a home with people who value it.

Beautiful Dreamer and the Quiet Work of Reflection Lately, I’ve been working on Beautiful Dreamer, the Stephen Foster song that begins, “Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me, starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee.” It’s a song about quiet invitation—about calling someone into a space free from the noise of “life’s busy throng.”

In many ways, that’s what these 52 weeks have been: a weekly call to step out of the noise and into a space where attention, breath, and tone can work together. Like the melody of the song, the practice is gentle but persistent. Week after week, it asks me—and all of us—to listen more closely, to let what doesn’t matter fade like morning mist, and to stay present until the “clouds of sorrow depart.”

Epictetus often reminded his students that the way to build a habit is simple: keep doing the thing, over and over, until it becomes part of you. Confidence, he said, comes from knowing you’ve shown up for yourself—acted as you intended—regardless of whether the day’s work felt easy or difficult. A year of writing these weekly insights has been just that: not a streak to maintain, but a practice to inhabit.

Now, a year in, I hear my own voice more clearly—not because I’ve “arrived,” but because the act of consistent reflection has tuned my ear to what matters. This isn’t a finish line; it’s a vantage point. From here, I can see the path behind me and the one that’s still unfolding ahead.

Next week will be week fifty-three. The work continues—breath by breath, word by word, connection by connection.

Highlights from 52 Weeks of Developing Your Authentic Voice

Weekly Insight #4 – Understanding Voice Health (Part I) The role of phlegm, throat clearing, and nervousness in vocal health. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2024/09/weekly-insight-4-understanding-voice.html


Weekly Insight #9 – How Emotional Energy Affects Our Voice and Body How the energy in the room changes how we speak and connect. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2024/10/weekly-insight-9-how-emotional-energy.html


Weekly Insight #14 – Your Voice as Your Calling Card Why first impressions start before you say your first word. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2024/11/weekly-insight-14-your-voice-as-your.html


Weekly Insight #17 – Building Your 12-Minute Practice Plan A realistic daily routine to keep your voice ready. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2024/12/weekly-insight-17-building-your-12.html


Weekly Insight #22 – The Thoughtful Power of Your Voice Why restraint can speak louder than volume. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/01/weekly-insight-22-thoughtful-power-of.html


Weekly Insight #27 – The Art of Staying Out of the Box Letting go of perfectionism to stay adaptable. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/02/weekly-insight-27-art-of-staying-out-of.html


Weekly Insight #32 – Breath, Tone, and Intention The unseen connection that shapes your presence. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/03/weekly-insight-32-breath-tone-and.html


Weekly Insight #39 – When “YO!” Says It All A single sound that reconnects breath and presence. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/05/weekly-insight-38-when-yo-says-it-all.html


Weekly Insight #46 – The Four Pillars of Voice Intention, Breath, Tone, and Connection — the DYAV framework https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/07/weekly-insight-46-four-pillars-of.html.


Weekly Insight #50 – Authenticity Can’t Be Auto-Generated What AI writing reveals about the importance of sounding like yourself. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/07/weekly-insight-50-authenticity-cant-be.html

#DevelopYourAuthenticVoice #VoiceMatters #AttentionBreathTone #PublicSpeaking #CommunicationSkills #VocalCoaching #Authenticity #LeadershipCommunication #AIandVoice #PerformanceMindset #SpeakingSkills #Presence #Connection

Elias Mokole

Keynote Speaker, BA & Beyond 2025 | Voice Presence & Change 

Founder, Developing Your Authentic Voice Newsletter

Subscribe here

 

🎙️ Weekly Insight #51 -The Voice You Trust May Be a Lie
Notes from Two Talk Proposals in Progress

I’ve been working on a couple of talk submissions lately—both circling a question I keep coming back to:

What does it mean to trust a voice? And what happens when that voice isn’t human?

Human cues meet synthetic signals—what are you really hearing?

We’re entering a moment where AI-generated voices aren’t just functional—they’re convincing. And not because of what they say, but because of how closely they echo something we already associate with trust.

A natural cadence. A rhythm that mimics conversation. Small human sounds—like a chuckle, a breath between phrases, or a murmured “uh-huh”—get folded in to make the voice feel spontaneous.

Ironically, what makes these voices persuasive isn’t how polished they are. It’s the moments where they sound imperfect.The timing quirks. The filler words. The pauses that seem unscripted. These are the signals we instinctively associate with presence, with being real.

But in this case, the presence is simulated. These systems aren’t calm or concerned—they’re not feeling anything at all. There’s no awareness behind the breath, no emotion behind the tone. Just a pattern designed to sound like someone who cares.

That’s what makes it so convincing: it sounds like someone is with you. But no one is.

The danger isn’t simply that the voice is artificial. It’s that we recognize it.

Or think we do.

Sometimes the voice being mimicked sounds like a person we know. Or a voice we've heard in public—a politician, a celebrity, a customer support agent we’ve spoken to before. The closer it gets to sounding right, the easier it is to assume the source is real.

That’s the part I keep returning to. The threat isn't just about impersonation in the legal sense. It's about how quickly we accept the feeling of familiarity as proof that something—or someone—is legitimate.

It’s Not the Tech. It’s Us.

What’s striking about these voice agents isn’t just how real they sound—it’s how closely they imitate what we do ourselves, sometimes without thinking.

We shift our tone to match the moment. We lean into urgency. We breathe differently when we’re trying to soothe, persuade, or connect. These aren’t random behaviors—they’re patterns of communication that emerge over time, shaped by intention, breath, tone, and connection.

And now those same cues are being modeled, packaged, and deployed by systems that don’t experience the moment at all.

Sometimes the goal is to help. A calm voice can steady a user. A confident tone can make instructions easier to follow. People even say they feel seen or heard when interacting with certain voice agents.

But that same voice—those same choices—can also be used to manipulate.

I recently came across an article by Harshal Shah, a Senior Product Manager who’s worked on voice and audio systems for over a decade. He looks at things from the other side: how AI is learning to detect emotional cues in the human voice—not just mimic them.

As he puts it, “understanding how people talk, their tone, pauses and energy often tells you more than the words themselves.”

What I’ve started noticing is how often these tools try to create a sense of familiarity. It’s not just how they sound—it’s what they say, and how casually they say it.

Phrases like “It’s been a while,” or “I’ve been meaning to reach out,” show up in texts and voice messages that want you to believe there's history between you and the speaker—even when there isn’t. That kind of vagueness makes it easier to assume a connection.

The voice doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to feel close enough to someone you’d trust.

That’s the real vulnerability. Not the synthetic speech itself—but our own wiring. Our instinct to trust what feels familiar, before asking who’s really speaking.

What I’m Proposing

One of the talks I’m working on explores how synthetic voices shape trust—not through content, but through tone, breath, and delivery. How phishing, manipulation, and even emotional compliance can come in through the side door of performance.

The other invites participants to experiment with their own voices—speaking a short phrase in different tones: flat, warm, urgent, calm. The point isn’t to evaluate how “good” they sound. It’s to notice how meaning shifts with delivery. What feels real? What feels slightly off?

That moment of reflex—when we hear something and instantly trust it—is what I’m trying to bring attention to. Not to create fear, but to build fluency. The more you understand how intention, breath, tone, and connection work in your own voice, the more aware you become when those same cues are being imitated.

As Shah notes in his article, “Emotional AI adds a new layer: interpreting how words are delivered.”

So while I’m exploring how these voices are performed, he’s pointing out how they’re also listening back.

Why I Keep Coming Back to This

People sometimes say, “Well, we’ve trained ourselves to question what we read online.” But I’m not sure that’s true either.

The real difference is that reading gives you the chance to go back and review. Hearing happens in real time. You respond before you even know you’ve responded.

That’s what makes tone so powerful—it reaches us through a kind of adaptive, blink-level judgment. It’s quick. It’s embodied. It’s built on experience. And if you know more about the mechanism—about breath, intention, tone, and connection—you can use that awareness to sense what feels real, or pause when something doesn’t.

I first came across this idea in Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink. He opens with a story about art specialists deciding whether a statue was authentic. The ones with the most experience didn’t need to study every detail. They just looked at it—and felt it was wrong.

That’s what trained discernment looks like. And it applies here, too.

Synthetic voices have been around for a while. But they used to be easy to spot. Robotic. Flat. You knew you were talking to a system. Now, they’re sympathetic. Warm. Almost familiar.

That’s not necessarily bad. But the more we know, the more we can meet those voices with the kind of awareness that lets us decide—not just react.

If You’d Like to Follow Along

I write weekly reflections like this—on voice, breath, presence, and communication in everyday life. If you’d like to follow along:

📝 P.S. You can find more voice reflections and weekly insights on the blog anytime: https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com 📚 Browse full blog archive

Further Reading

If you're interested in the other side of this conversation—how AI is learning to interpret human tone—this article by Harshal Shah offers a thoughtful look at emotional AI and paralinguistic voice analysis.

Shah is a Senior Product Manager with years of experience building voice systems across industries. His piece explores how machines are learning to detect emotion in real time—from hesitation and stress to warmth and enthusiasm—and how that’s already being used in customer service, education, and healthcare.

🔗 “Silent Signals: How AI Can Read Between the Lines in Your Voice” Forbes Technology Council | Harshal Shah

https://www.forbes.com/councils/forbestechcouncil/2025/07/03/silent-signals-how-ai-can-read-between-the-lines-in-your-voice/

#DevelopYourAuthenticVoice#VoiceAwareness#VocalPresence#BreathAndVoice#VoiceTraining#EmotionalAI#SyntheticVoices#ListeningSkills#BreathingAndBrain#MargaretHarshaw#FarinelliExercise#AlzheimersResearch

Elias Mokole

Keynote Speaker, BA & Beyond 2025 | Voice Presence & Change 

Founder, Developing Your Authentic Voice Newsletter

Subscribe here

🎙️ Weekly Insight #50-Authenticity Can’t Be Auto-Generated

What AI writing reveals about voice and why sounding like everyone else isn’t the same as sounding like yourself

“When you bring a photo of thick, flowing hair to the salon… and they politely suggest working with what you’ve actually got.”

I recently came across an article by Adnan Masood that made me laugh and wince at the same time — because I’ve written some of those phrases myself. Masood, a technologist and AI researcher, laid out the telltale signs of AI-generated writing with sharp clarity.

“It is important to note that…”·
"In today’s fast-paced world…”
“Furthermore…”
“Moreover…”
“Delve into…”



It reminded me of moments — in my own work and in others’ — when clarity gets replaced by formula. AI writing often reads smoothly and clearly, but it reveals just how easy it is to slip into sounding technically correct but smoothly impersonal.

When Writing Sounds Like a Machine

Masood’s piece lays out the key traits of AI-generated writing:

Uniform rhythm (every sentence same length, same structure)
Buzzword-heavy transitions and vague, lofty phrasing
Predictable, formulaic structure (thesis, three body points, conclusion)
Lack of lived experience or emotional tone


If you’ve ever listened to someone speak in monotone, read off a script or PowerPoint, or use the same sentence format five times in a row — you’ve heard the vocal equivalent. And if you’ve ever done it yourself (I have), you know it’s not because you don’t care. It’s because you’re trying to sound competent, clear, and polished. The problem is: sounding polished isn’t the same as sounding real.

What Voice — Real Voice — Actually Sounds Like

I teach people to become aware of their own vocal habits: their breath, their intention, their pacing, their tone. Most of what we think of as “good voice” is not only about resonance or volume — it’s about how clearly a person shows up in what they’re saying.

The same is true in writing. When I read a sentence that breaks the rhythm, that uses a contraction in the middle of an otherwise formal paragraph, or that just says something plainly and directly — I lean in. Because someone’s there.

As synthetic voice and writing tools become more common, knowing your own voice becomes more important. If something sounds off or not like you, it helps to know why. Cadence, rhythm, sentence phrasing, directness — these aren’t just surface features — they’re part of what makes a voice recognizable.

The habits that give voice its character aren’t innate. They’re built, practiced, and refined over time. Most of us can speak naturally when relaxed, but pressure often distorts clarity. When we’re tired, stressed, or afraid to sound wrong, we fall back on safe phrases. AI writing does the same — it smooths over complexity, avoids friction, and substitutes clarity with structure. But friction is often where the truth lives.

My Anti-AI Writing Commitments

Reading that article gave me language for something I’d already been doing. These are now my standing rules for writing anything I want to feel human:

I avoid filler transitions and buzzwords.
I vary sentence rhythm and length — the way a good phrase has breath and shape.
I resist the tidy three-point structure unless the idea demands it.
I keep tone consistent and honest.



These aren’t just stylistic choices. They’re vocal ones. If a sentence doesn’t feel like something I’d say aloud — or sing with meaning — I question it.

AI as Mirror, Not Mouthpiece

The list hit close to home — I’ve written those phrases myself, especially when I’m trying to sound polished. And the truth is, AI is very good at writing. It can offer rhythm, structure, and fluency in seconds. But making it sound like you? That’s not really its job — and maybe it shouldn’t be.

It would be like me walking into a hair salon with a picture of someone with a thick, full head of hair. We all know how that conversation’s going to go. The stylist might smile politely, but they’re also thinking, “Okay… but let’s work with what you’ve actually got.”

The same thing happens in voice work. Someone might want to sound like a famous speaker or singer — but what matters is uncovering what’s already present in their own instrument. AI can offer a template. But it’s still up to you to sculpt it into something that actually reflects your voice — and that takes repetition, discernment, and the ability to hear yourself clearly.

I’ve found that AI, when used well, can be a mirror — not a mouthpiece. I don’t let it write for me. But I do sometimes use it as a reaction surface. I’ll speak aloud, then look at what it gives me back. Not to accept its phrasing, but to notice what feels off — and what helps me clarify.

The editing process is the writing process. I don’t publish my first breath. But I’ve learned not to overedit it either. When you’ve spent years training your ear — whether as a singer, a writer, or a critical reader — the urge to perfect every phrase can be strong. But that version of “perfect” is elusive. Sometimes, the real skill is knowing when to step away. Give it space. Come back later with clearer ears. I’ve found that when I do that — whether preparing a piece of writing or refining a vocal line — I hear it more honestly. That’s something I learned from my mentor Margaret Harshaw: short, focused work followed by deliberate rest. You don’t power through. You pause. You listen. You return. It’s the same idea behind the Pomodoro technique: focused effort, then a reset. And in that rhythm, something real emerges.

Some have described AI as a kind of intern: someone you hand tasks to, expecting quick drafts and rough ideas that you’ll later refine. That’s not entirely wrong, but it misses something. An intern is learning — and yes, I’m teaching — but that happens in any good collaboration. One learns from the other. There’s a hierarchy. But my relationship with AI often feels more like a collaboration — not equal, not reciprocal, but interactive. It gives me something to push against. It reflects patterns I might not see. Sometimes it offers a clean draft that sounds technically fine — but not like me. That’s where I notice the difference. I’m not looking for a stand-in. I’m looking for a foil. A second set of ears that doesn’t know what I meant, but can still help me hear it more clearly.

Real Takes Time

The polish part — AI does easily. That’s its job. You give it something, and it smooths it out. But the “real” part — the part that sounds like you — takes more.

It’s the part where I reread. Scour. Rework. Not just because I want to avoid error, but because I want my writing to feel like something I’d actually say. If I put my name on it, it has to reflect me — just like when I sang student matinees at the Metropiltan Opera or in a recent church recital. It is always my work, and I wanted it to reflect the best I can do.

I think I learned that from my parents, who ran a restaurant. Every meal was their signature. They took it seriously. And I remember feeling something similar in France, watching people clean the streets in the morning, or helping you pick out the right stylo de plume, or pour a proper espresso. It was about personal integrity — about doing something with care because it mattered.

Writing is no different. We tend to think of speech as instinctive and writing as constructed — but both reflect what we’ve practiced. Writing guides how I speak. Speaking sharpens how I write. That discipline flows in both directions. And as Epictetus put it nearly 2,000 years ago:, skill takes training. That’s as true for writing and speaking as it is for any craft — because both carry our voice, and both deserve our care.
“Do you suppose that you can do the things that you do without having learned them? One must know that to play the harp requires skill: shall it be supposed that a man can learn to speak or write well or live rightly without training?” — Epictetus, Discourses 2.9 (trans. George Long, 1877)

Why This Matters Now

We’re surrounded by content that sounds just fine — and feels like nothing. That’s the tradeoff. Whether it’s a LinkedIn post or a keynote or a one-on-one conversation, we’re all looking for the same thing: to feel that someone is actually speaking to us.

So when I read something that’s a little jagged, or unexpectedly funny, or emotionally grounded — even if it’s rough around the edges — I exhale.

What AI reveals — again and again — is how easy it is to sound smooth without ever becoming clear. That’s not a flaw in the tool. It’s a call to pay more attention. To notice when something doesn’t sound like you. And to keep practicing until it does.

Voice — in writing, in speech, in life — isn’t something we copy and paste. It’s something we train for, return to, and keep refining until it actually feels like us.

AI might help you get words on the page. But only you can recognize which ones sound like you.

#DevelopYourAuthenticVoice#VoiceAwareness#VocalPresence#BreathAndVoice#VoiceTraining#AlzheimersResearch#BreathingAndBrain#FarinelliExercise#MargaretHarshaw

And if you're unfamiliar with the legacy of Margaret Harshaw, you can read more about her career and influence here: 🎶 Margaret Harshaw – Wikipedia



#DevelopYourAuthenticVoice#VoiceAwareness#VocalPresence#BreathAndVoice#VoiceTraining#AlzheimersResearch#VagusNerve#NervousSystemHealth#AmyloidBeta#BreathingAndBrain#FarinelliExercise#MargaretHarshaw#BreathWithDrSteele #DrSteeleBreath

Elias Mokole

Keynote Speaker, BA & Beyond 2025 | Voice Presence & Change |

Founder, Developing Your Authentic Voice Newsletter

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🎙️ Weekly Insight #49-Breath Isn’t the Fix — Awareness Is

Amyloid. Cortisol. Legato. Three places breath shows up if we let it.

Why Breath Isn’t Something You Master, but Something You Learn to Notice Again

When someone says “breathe correctly,” most people either tune out or get confused. It sounds vague. Clinical. Maybe even a little gimmicky. After all, we all breathe. What is there to fix?

But in voice work—as in life—how we breathe tells us more than we realize.

When Science Follows the Breath

That’s why I was intrigued by a video from Dr. Clint Steele, a self-described brain and nervous system specialist, who shared a 2023 study from USC published in Scientific Reports. The study showed that participants who practiced slow breathing (six breaths per minute for 20 minutes a day) significantly reduced the amount of amyloid-beta peptides in their blood and saliva—early warning signs tied to Alzheimer’s disease.

Let that settle in for a moment: just slowing down your breath for 20 minutes a day led to measurable changes in a biological marker for cognitive decline.

Patterns That Shape the Brain

Steele describes the mechanism this way: when your breath is short, high in the chest, or constantly rapid, it signals to the brain that you’re in survival mode. Over time, that pattern increases cortisol and keeps the nervous system in a heightened state. That’s not just uncomfortable—it’s toxic to long-term brain function. But if the exhale is longer than the inhale, and the breath comes from activating the diaphragm rather than the shoulders and neck, the body receives a different message: you’re safe, you can relax, and healing can begin.

This isn’t new insight to anyone who has trained in voice. But even in voice communities, breath is often treated as background technique—important, but automatic.

“No one can learn what they think they already know.” — Epictetus, Discourses 2.17

Returning Again and Again

It took me years to realize that what I was learning about breath in the studio also applied to how I moved through the rest of my life. Margaret Harshaw was the first teacher who truly pointed me in that direction, and even late in her life—when I worked with her, she was eighty-five—she continued to notice breath everywhere. Whether it was a newscaster on television or someone walking across the room, she paid attention to the way breath shaped presence, speech, and posture. That kind of awareness stayed with her well beyond the operatic stage. And I’ve come to understand why. Breath isn’t something you master and move on from. It’s something you return to, again and again. In teaching, I’ve noticed that even well-trained students lose their breath when a new challenge is introduced. The moment something feels unfamiliar or uncertain, the body responds—tightening, holding, reverting. So breath isn’t a foundation you leave behind. It’s the process you keep revisiting, especially when something is at stake.
Practice or Pattern?

It may feel automatic, but breathing is deeply patterned—and those patterns either reinforce calm or build tension over time. Neuroscience supports this: chronic stress, marked by elevated cortisol levels, has been linked to reduced volume in the hippocampus—the brain’s memory center. Other studies show that breathing with longer exhales helps calm the body and steady the mind.

From Castrato to Bestseller

That shift is encouraged, in part, by the length of the exhale. Breathing patterns that emphasize a longer release help settle the nervous system, a point Dr. Steele highlights in his video and one that aligns closely with exercises I’ve used in the studio for years. One of the most enduring among them is the Farinelli exercise, named for the celebrated 18th-century castrato. As I noted earlier, it was Margaret Harshaw who first introduced me to this approach—the only voice teacher I worked with who taught it explicitly. It was, in many ways, revolutionary—not just for my development as a soloist, but for how I teach. Long before breathing protocols were studied in labs or tracked by apps, this exercise taught the same foundational principles through careful pacing and attention. It’s built around three phases: the intake of air, a brief suspension, and a conscious, extended release. The timing is flexible—you might begin with a five-second inhale, a five-second suspension, and an eight-second exhale. That longer exhalation sends a different message to the body. Whether the breath is used to speak, sing, or simply release tension, the value lies not in the numbers themselves but in the awareness of how each phase feels. Breath that is observed becomes breath that can be shaped.

When I was preparing a workshop for an MBA program, the dean recommended a book his son had recently read: Breath, by James Nestor. It had become a New York Times bestseller, and I did what I often do—scanned through it carefully and took notes. A few details came back to me while writing this. Nestor suggests that the “perfect breath” is one that lasts 5.5 seconds in, 5.5 seconds out—an even, steady cycle that supports balance in the nervous system. He also describes how shallow breathing—high in the chest and limited in diaphragm movement—can lead to the high-shouldered, forward-neck posture commonly seen in individuals with asthma, emphysema, and other respiratory conditions. One of the physicians he interviews recommends a breathing technique that closely resembles a modified version of the Farinelli exercise: a measured intake, a moment of suspension, and a gradual release. Once again, what’s presented as new turns out to be deeply familiar—rooted in long-standing traditions that emphasize awareness, pacing, and the link between breath and well-being.

Where It Landed for Me

The Farinelli exercise gave me a new relationship to airflow, one that wasn’t about pushing or controlling but about observing and choosing. In my own singing, I’ve noticed over time how my ability to sustain long phrases has steadily improved, not through effort but through awareness. I recently performed a recital where I was able to manage long musical lines with breaths that served the poetry—never avoiding breath, but taking it with intention. This same kind of breath awareness became especially valuable when I traveled to France to sing Germont in Verdi’s La Traviata. The role is built on extended legato phrasing, something I once found daunting. Years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to get through those lines with ease. But now, I can monitor how I’m using air and decide when to release it. That change didn’t come from sheer willpower or technique alone. It came from sustained practice and a growing awareness of how breath moves through my own body—how I manage it, pause it, release it, and direct it in real time.

In the Studio, Under Pressure

In practice, I’ve seen this countless times in the studio. A client enters in a rush—words tumbling out, breath shallow—and their voice reflects it: a cluster of physical and acoustic qualities that often show up together when someone is stressed, rushed, or unaware of their breath patterns. But with just a few minutes of focused awareness—watching where the breath lands, extending the exhale—their breathing shifts, and with it, their voice begins to open. Their tone becomes more connected, their timing less frantic. They return to a more centered, present version of themselves. And that has benefits far beyond the studio.

Not Something to Fix

This is why I keep returning to the word awareness. The breath can’t be corrected until it’s noticed. You can’t change what you don’t perceive. That’s true whether you’re singing, leading a meeting, caring for a loved one, or simply sitting in silence.

It’s not about fixing your breath. It’s about learning how to notice it.



If you’d like a deeper dive into the Farinelli exercise, I explore it more fully in this earlier Weekly Insight: 🔗 From Breath to Phrase: Weekly Insight #18

You can also watch a short video where I demonstrate the Farinelli exercise here:🎥 Watch on YouTube

For those curious about the neuroscience connection, here’s the original video by Dr. Clint Steele that sparked this reflection: 🎥 Watch on Facebook

And if you're unfamiliar with the legacy of Margaret Harshaw, you can read more about her career and influence here: 🎶 Margaret Harshaw – Wikipedia



#DevelopYourAuthenticVoice#VoiceAwareness#VocalPresence#BreathAndVoice#VoiceTraining#AlzheimersResearch#VagusNerve#NervousSystemHealth#AmyloidBeta#BreathingAndBrain#FarinelliExercise#MargaretHarshaw#BreathWithDrSteele #DrSteeleBreath

Elias Mokole

Keynote Speaker, BA & Beyond 2025 | Voice Presence & Change |

Founder, Developing Your Authentic Voice Newsletter

Subscribe here

🎙️ Weekly Insight #48 -Trained Perception vs. Untrained Intuition

What Epictetus understood about voice—and why it still matters

Learning to hear quarter-tones... and to taste the difference between baguettes. Paris taught me both. So did Epictetus. 🎶🥖☕  

We don’t assume we can play piano without lessons. We don’t pretend to know geometry if we’ve never studied it. But when it comes to voice, many people believe they should already know how to use it.

That belief isn’t entirely wrong. There is something intuitive about how we speak. But intuition alone won’t carry you very far—not if the goal is clarity, impact, or connection.

This is where Epictetus offers something useful. He reminds us that perception can be trained—and that refinement matters.

📘 From the Discourses

In Discourses 2.11.1, Epictetus makes a clear observation. We’re born with a general sense of things like right-angled triangles, half-tones, and even quarter-tones. But we don’t understand them precisely until we’ve studied them.
“We come into the world with an innate conception of a right-angled triangle, a half-tone, or a quarter-tone. But it takes instruction to know what they actually are.” — paraphrased from the original Greek, Discourses 2.11.1

People who haven’t studied geometry don’t pretend to be geometers. People who haven’t studied music don’t usually fake it. But when it comes to communication—especially voice—many assume they already know what they’re doing.

That assumption keeps people from noticing what’s missing. Not because they aren’t capable, but because they haven’t been asked to look more closely.
🎵 Why the Quarter-Tone Example Matters

A quarter-tone isn’t part of standard Western tuning. It’s too small to register for most ears trained on pianos, choirs, or familiar scales. But it’s real—and clearly defined in other musical systems, especially in parts of the Middle East and Asia.

That makes it a useful example. If you haven’t been trained to hear quarter-tones, you’ll miss them—even if you have a good ear.

It’s like taste. When I first moved to Paris, every baguette seemed perfect. They were all fresh, all delicious. But after a while, I started to notice the differences—some were lighter, others had more crackle to the crust, or a deeper flavor inside.

I remember a Parisian friend insisting, “No, I only go to the one by Place Monge. It’s the best in the city.” At the time, I couldn’t tell why. But after a few months, I started to get it. What had seemed identical now had character. I could tell one from another. And I began to know what I liked.

Nothing had changed about the bread. What changed was my ability to discern.

Voice works the same way. You may be expressive. You may be articulate. But without experience and reflection, you’ll likely miss certain details in how you’re speaking—how your breath supports the sound, how tone varies across a sentence, or how phrasing affects clarity and connection.

Epictetus chose a subtle interval on purpose. He’s showing that some things are real, but not obvious. You won’t notice them unless someone points them out. And even then, it takes practice to hear clearly.

🎙️ What This Means for Voice Work

Most people don’t spend time analyzing their own voice. They speak the way they’ve always spoken. And unless something goes wrong, they don’t question it.

Even when they notice discomfort or disconnect, they often can’t explain what caused it. They might say the message didn’t land, or that the moment felt flat. But they’re not used to describing things like breath pressure, tone, or pacing in themselves.

That doesn’t mean they’re not perceptive. In fact, when they listen to others, they often pick up subtle vocal cues without needing to think about it. But with their own voice, that same awareness stays vague.

This is the difference Epictetus is pointing to. There’s a kind of perception that comes from training—where you know what to listen for, and how to name it. Without that, the experience stays intuitive but imprecise.

🔎 DYAV and the Role of Training

Four elements sit at the heart of the Developing Your Authentic Voice framework:

Intention – What are you trying to communicate?
Breath – Is your air supporting the message?
Tone – What’s the emotional contour of the sound?
Connection – Does the voice land where you want it to?


Each of these is like a musical interval. You can get through without much thought. But it won’t hold up under pressure. Skill comes from repetition and attention—not from hoping it works.

🧭Final Thoughts

Epictetus isn’t dismissing intuition. He’s pointing out that our first impressions—what the Stoics called prolēpseis—aren’t enough on their own. They give us a starting point, not a finished skill.

That applies directly to voice. We all speak. We all have some instinct for tone, rhythm, and connection. But most of us haven’t learned to observe those patterns in ourselves.

Refinement doesn’t replace intuition. It gives it structure. It makes the intuitive visible. And once we can see it, we can adjust it—deliberately, not just reactively.

That kind of perception doesn’t come from scripts or memorized techniques. It comes from practice. It comes from listening. That’s what voice work makes possible.

#DevelopingYourAuthenticVoice #VoiceMatters #Clarity #EmotionalIntelligence #LeadershipCommunication #TrainedPerception #StoicInsights #Epictetus #DeliberatePractice #VoiceAwareness

Elias Mokole

Keynote Speaker, BA & Beyond 2025 | Voice Presence & Change |

Founder, Developing Your Authentic Voice Newsletter

Subscribe here