Wednesday, September 17, 2025

🎙️Weekly Insight #57- The Light Behind the Clouds: The Will That Remains Our Own


Epictetus, Margaret Harshaw, and Ardis Krainik on what it means to choose rather than drift.


 
The will to choose, the voice to carry it.


On a recent morning here in Duluth, I looked out expecting another gray sky. For several days the clouds had hidden the sunrise, and more than once I decided to go back to bed. Today, though, the light was different. The clouds were still there, heavy and gray, but the water reflected a brightness that surprised me. The light wasn’t gone—it was simply waiting behind the clouds.

That image brought to mind a line from Epictetus:

“My will is my own. Nothing can truly hinder me unless I consent.”

Clouds block the view, rejections sting, evenings feel aimless—but these only take as much power as we give them.I remember one of the hardest parts of working with Margaret Harshaw wasn’t when she asked me to sing louder or higher. She never did that directly. What she pushed me to do was notice. To sense what my body was doing rather than wait for an outside signal. She asked me to pay attention to the choices I was making, not to the sound itself or the approval of someone listening.

And when I struggled—when I thought, Why isn’t this working? What difference am I supposed to feel?—she would remind me: “Singing is 95% mental. You will the voice to do what you choose for it to do.” At the time, I didn’t fully understand what she meant. I thought will was about effort. But what she was pointing to was clarity. First, you have to know what you are willing the voice to do. Without that, you just repeat exercises mindlessly, hoping something will change. The mental part wasn’t about force. It was about choosing, then directing the voice toward that choice.

During that same period, I was at Lyric Opera of Chicago as a young artist. Harshaw came in my last year and a half there, and she wasn’t the only powerful figure I learned from. Ardis Krainik, the general director, had an unmistakable clarity about the direction she set for the company. In my exit interview with her—something she offered every young artist, which I thought was a mark of real class—she looked at me and said, “Elias, I’m not concerned for you. You have the volontà.”

I knew the word meant “will.” At the time, I thought, Well, I’d love a job more than a compliment. But many years later, those words echo differently. Epictetus wrote:

“First decide who you choose to be, then act accordingly.”

That’s what she must have seen in me—the capacity to will, to choose, and then to act with that choice..

Choice shows up in quieter moments, too. Around seven in the evening I often feel caught in a strange limbo. I’m not ready for bed, but I don’t know whether to keep working, rest, or reach out to someone. The pull is strong to drift into nothing in particular. Yet that, too, is a matter of consent. If I give in, the evening slips away. If I direct my will toward even one small action—calling a friend, reading a passage, or simply stepping outside—I change the quality of that hour.

The same principle applies in professional life. Recently I reflected on how impersonal rejection letters feel. They arrive polished but cold, with no real acknowledgment of the person who applied. The words can sting, but they only gain real force if we let them. We can consent to let them define our worth, or we can move forward with the work that matters.

Music reinforces this truth in its own way, and I felt it most clearly last week at the recital in Duluth Heights. Those concerts in retirement communities often take place in smaller, more intimate rooms. The space there had tall windows that opened onto the same kind of weather I saw this morning—gray light and shifting brightness. The acoustics carried well, and you could feel how the sound reached every corner.

The songs themselves carried the weight of Epictetus’s insight. Purcell’s If Music Be the Food of Love, with the line For then my listening soul you move. Stephen Foster’s Beautiful Dreamer, wake unto me. Gerald Finzi’s To a Poet a Thousand Years Hence. And in Mozart’s “Abendempfindung,” with its reminder that life’s stage passes quickly and that each scene becomes a pearl and a crown, I could see how the words landed.

That’s the power of live performance. The notes are fleeting, but in the moment they awaken something in the listener. You can see it in their faces and feel it in the room. The acoustic vibration stirs memory, longing, joy, and sometimes tears.

Stephen Foster’s songs captured this truth directly. In All the Voice of Bygone Days, the lyric speaks of “weeping old time sorrows, or smiling as in days of yore, when each heart its burden bore of love and pity, bliss and pain.” That is what comes alive in performance—the way a song recalls burdens carried, joys remembered, and feelings once thought forgotten. The “voice of bygone days” does come back again, whispering to the weary-hearted.

Which brings me back to Epictetus. The music awakens because both singer and listener consent to be moved in that moment. The clouds, the rejections, the restless evenings—none of these can hinder the will unless we hand over that power.

When I looked again at the lake later that morning, the light still pressed through the gray. The clouds didn’t lift, but they didn’t stop the brightness either. Circumstances, doubts, or setbacks may cover the sky, but they cannot control the will unless we hand them that consent.

The voice works the same way. Harshaw’s lesson wasn’t about ignoring difficulty—it was about choosing how to meet it. Whether in a rehearsal, a job search, or an evening at home, the question remains: will I let the gray decide for me, or will I choose to bring forward the light that’s already there?

That choice doesn’t erase the clouds. But it keeps the will, and the voice that carries it, firmly our own.


Related Posts



Further Resources




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

Please subscribe here

#DevelopingYourAuthenticVoice #VoiceMatters #Clarity #Presence #StoicWisdom #Epictetus #ConsentAndWill #LivePerformance #MargaretHarshaw #ArdisKrainik

Wednesday, September 10, 2025

🎙️Weekly Insight #56 - The Art of Listening: From Epictetus to Purcell

When the soul listens, the voice follows.

How listening deepens speech, song, and memory.

Epictetus often reminded his students that our human faculties come in pairs. Sight and vision, reason and choice, speech and hearing. Each depends on the other. What use is speaking without someone to hear? What use is listening if it never stirs response?

“for then my listening soul you move.” — Henry Purcell, If Music Be the Food of Love (text after Shakespeare, adapted by Henry Heveningham)

That line has stayed with me as I prepare for this week’s recital in Duluth Heights. One of the songs I’ll sing is Purcell’s If Music Be the Food of Love, with Heveningham’s line above. It’s a reminder that listening isn’t passive. To listen is to allow movement in the soul—something that shows up later in memory, in speech, even in the courage to sing.

Epictetus himself made this distinction. He said there’s a difference between “common hearing” and “musical hearing.”

Common hearing is universal: the ability to notice and distinguish sounds. Everyone has it, unless physically impaired.

Musical hearing is cultivated: the trained ability to recognize intervals, harmonies, or subtleties that only a musician (or someone with practice) can pick out.

The same is true of voice. Everyone has a basic vocal ability—to speak, to tell loud from soft, high from low. But trained vocal skill is something more: hearing subtle differences in tone, sustaining breath, or shaping vowels with intention.

So when Purcell writes, “for then my listening soul you move,” it’s not just about sound reaching the ear. It’s about the kind of listening that moves deeper, the kind we cultivate.

I’ve seen this in past recitals. At Quality Living Inc. in Omaha, many in the audience could not speak easily, but their listening was unmistakable. The silence in the room carried weight. In Chippewa Falls, people told me afterward not about my phrasing or technique, but about memories the music had stirred—moments that had been dormant until listening gave them life again.

Another line from Heveningham’s text is another line I’ve carried with me: “And all my senses feasted are, / Though yet the treat is only sound.”

That’s exactly what I’ve witnessed—listening that goes beyond the ear, stirring memory, emotion, and even the body.

The best artists also start with listening. Sinatra described his process in a way I’ve remembered ever since. He began not with the orchestra, not even with the melody, but with the lyrics on a page—reading them as poetry, listening for the emotions and inflections behind the words. His advice was simple: “You sing the song. If the take is good, you’re done.”

I sometimes imagine him in conversation with Giovanni Battista Lamperti, a 19th-century Italian teacher whose Vocal Wisdom is still read today. Sinatra says, “I speak the words first, experiment with inflections, find the emotional core before I ever sing a note.” Lamperti replies, “The voice must unite word, tone, and breath—diction, diaphragm, and focus forming an eternal triangle.” Two different traditions, but the same principle: listening first, then expression.

That kind of listening—quiet, attentive, patient—makes speech and song honest. Margaret Harshaw used to tell me that singing is 95% mental, which was her way of pointing to the same truth. Listening aligns mind and voice before a note is sung.

And it’s not just about performance. In daily life, listening is what grounds our speaking. Try this: send a short voice memo instead of a text this week. At the end of the day, listen back as if it weren’t your own voice. Notice the rise and fall, the pauses, the tone. It may feel uncomfortable, but it’s a way of letting listening guide your speaking, just as Epictetus said one faculty completes the other.

“for then my listening soul you move.” May our listening souls be moved—and from that movement, may something worth remembering be spoken.


Related Posts

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

Weekly Insight #6 – The Silent Saboteur: How Negative Self-Talk Undermines Your Performance https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2024/09/weekly-insight-6-silent-saboteur-how.html


Weekly Insight #15 – Choosing Exercises with Purpose https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2024/11/weekly-insight-15-choosing-exercises.html


Weekly Insight #22 – The Thoughtful Power of Your Voice https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/01/weekly-insight-22-thoughtful-power-of.html


Weekly Insight #33 – Pitch, Presence, and the Power of Vocal Variation https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/04/weekly-insight-33-pitch-presence-and.html


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


Further Resources

Wikipedia: Margaret Harshaw https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Margaret_Harshaw


Wikipedia: Giovanni Battista Lamperti https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giovanni_Battista_Lamperti



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 #TheArtOfListening #Purcell




Wednesday, September 3, 2025

 🎙️Weekly Insight #55 – Moments with Maggie: Why 12 Minutes Can Be Enough

What I learned from Margaret Harshaw about short, intentional practice.



From Maggie to the MuppetMe: keep your focus where it counts.


Maggie’s Curiosity

When I worked with Margaret Harshaw during my apprentice years at Lyric Opera of Chicago, she was already in her 80s. She had sung at both the old and new Met and taught at Indiana University. With all she had accomplished, what consistently struck me in lessons was her curiosity. She always wanted to know how each singer produced sound.

At her home in Lake Forest, lessons weren’t about singing nonstop. We’d sit for tea, talk, and then work in stretches. She kept a small mirror on the piano. More than once she had me hold it up and say, “Notice what is moving.” At first that felt intimidating. Later I realized it was her way of training attention—always noticing, always connecting sound with what the body was doing. And in her way, she echoed what Epictetus asks: Is this necessary?

Everyday Voices

She didn’t stop with singers. She listened to newscasters and television voices, noticing when someone was speaking freely or when they were constricting their sound. Her reminders weren’t just about eyebrows—they were about watching your mouth, your tongue, and the exact shape of your articulators. That’s what I learned from her: exercises help you see what you’re doing, and how small adjustments in tongue or mouth shape can form vowels clearly without extra tension.


12 Minute Sessions

Her teaching showed me that practice doesn’t need to be long. It needs to be intentional.

A morning session of 12 minutes might include:

  • Breath awareness: steadying airflow before a note ever begins.
  • Vowel exercise on one pitch: /i e a o u/ in half steps, learning how much air each transition really needs, and noticing what your articulators are doing.
  • Middle register activation: the part of your voice you’ll use all day when speaking.
  • Text exploration: speaking or intoning a line of poetry you plan to sing later.


Conservatory Habits

In conservatory, it was the opposite. We’d spend hours in small practice rooms, often repeating phrases until our voices were tired. Sometimes we left more discouraged than improved, not really knowing if what we were doing was helping. There was a law of diminishing returns—more time didn’t always mean better results.

Each practice room had a Steinway, and people would set up camp with books and scores, staying late into the night. That felt like practicing. But it wasn’t directed. We were given general rules, not guidance for how to tailor practice to our own voices. You never really knew which nuance applied to you.

There were mirrors in the practice rooms, but no one showed us how to use them in relation to what we were studying. Of course, we all knew how to look in a mirror, but we weren’t guided to notice the specific movements of the tongue, jaw, or lips as they connected to the sound. Without that focus, the mirror wasn’t a tool—it was just an object in the room.
Pomodoro Parallels

Another place I saw this confirmed was years later when I was teaching students about study habits. I came across the Pomodoro Technique, which uses short blocks of focused work followed by a break. The original method was built around 25 minutes, named after the tomato-shaped kitchen timer its creator used. But whether it’s 25, 15, or even 12, the point is the same: concentrated attention works better than endless hours.
Selective Attention

It reminds me of the well-known experiment in selective attention. The point isn’t just about watching closely, but about knowing what to focus on. That was missing in conservatory practice. Harshaw, by contrast, directed our attention. She told us exactly what mattered in the moment. (If you’d like to experience the experiment yourself, here’s the link: Selective Attention Test – YouTube. Best to try it before reading about it.)


Star Pressure


You see the same thing with great pop singers. Christina Aguilera can run scales with ease, Adele can pour emotion into her sound. But natural talent only goes so far under pressure. Technique gives you something to fall back on when stress or fatigue creeps in. Even a subtle shift—like adding a bit more air in the middle range—can keep the throat from tightening.

I think back to Aguilera’s advertisement for her online masterclass, where she demonstrated an impressive vocalization. It was beautiful, but to my ear it sounded more like a performance than a daily exercise. That difference is important. The daily work isn’t about showing what you can already do—it’s about finding what helps you stay steady under pressure.
Ticket Stub Trauma

I remember it clearly in my own career. My first Figaro in The Barber of Seville was with Arizona Opera. I saw a ripped ticket stub on the ground and realized someone had paid $100 for that seat. Not to hear “Rossini” in the abstract—but to hear me sing Figaro. That awareness hit me hard. Pressure like that changes how you breathe and how the voice responds. Having exercises and habits to rely on kept me steady when nerves might have taken over.
Authenticity

Harshaw probably wouldn’t have used the word authentic. But that’s what she was pointing toward. She wanted each singer to discover how they vibrated vowels, how much air pressure they required for the passage they were working on, and what their voice did when breath was prepared with intention. In a time when we were encouraged to imitate famous singers on recordings, she pushed us to sound like ourselves.

That is the root of this 12-minute practice idea. It doesn’t have to be long. It does have to be intentional. And that’s what makes it yours.


Related Posts:


If you’d like to explore connected insights from earlier in this series:

Weekly Insight #2 – The Mental Game of Voice: Lessons from Margaret Harshaw Harshaw’s emphasis on awareness and presence over pure technique. 


Weekly Insight #3 – The Mental Game of Voice: Practice with Purpose (Part II) How practice changes when guided by deliberate intention. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2024/09/weekly-insights-3-mental-game-of-voice.html


Weekly Insight #7 – Repeating with Purpose: How Mindful Practice Leads to Authenticity Why repetition without awareness falls short — and how mindful rehearsal connects to authentic sound. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2024/10/weekly-insight-7-part-1-repeating-with.html


Weekly Insight #17 – Building Your 12-Minute Practice Plan: Start with Breath Lays out the short daily practice structure that connects directly with #55. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2024/12/weekly-insight-17-building-your-12.html


Weekly Insight #29 – When Pressure Hijacks Your Voice: How to Stay Present and In Control Explores how stress alters breath and voice, and what helps you steady yourself under pressure — closely related to the “ticket stub” story. https://dyavwithelias.blogspot.com/2025/03/weekly-insight-29-when-pressure-hijacks.html


Further Resources:


Wikipedia: Margaret Harshaw https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Margaret_Harshaw


Selective Attention Test – YouTube

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#MargaretHarshaw #VocalPractice #12MinutePractice #IntentionalPractice #PerformancePressure #SelectiveAttention #AuthenticVoice

Wednesday, August 27, 2025

 

🎙️ 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




Wednesday, August 20, 2025

🎙️ 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



Wednesday, August 13, 2025

🎙️ 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

Wednesday, August 6, 2025

 

🎙️ 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 #57- The Light Behind the Clouds: The Will That Remains Our Own Epictetus, Margaret Harshaw, and Ardis Krainik on what it ...