Wednesday, June 18, 2025

#44 Weekly Insight - When Voice Advice Sounds Vague—But Sticks Anyway

“Even a well-shaped statue needs direction. Voice is no different.” — Inspired by Epictetus, Discourses 3.1.25

A look at common metaphors that show up in voice work.

If you’ve ever been in a voice lesson, workshop, or presentation about speaking with confidence, you’ve probably heard something like this:

“Place the voice in your mask.”
“Speak from the belly.”
“Drop the breath.”
“Send the voice forward.”
“Resonate your sound through your face.”

These kinds of phrases come up often. They’re familiar, and in some cases they help point a person in a useful direction. But they can also be hard to apply—especially when there’s no explanation of what they mean physically.

Sports Instruction

I’m not a golfer, but I often think about how instruction works in sports.

Let’s say someone is learning a golf swing. They might hear:

“Let the club do the work.” “Just follow through.” “Just feel it.” “Don’t overthink it.”

These are phrases that describe the experience of a coordinated movement—but they don’t teach someone how to build that coordination. If you don’t know what your body is doing in the first place, those tips may not help.

Voice advice often works the same way. It tends to describe an outcome or a sensation, without offering a clear path to get there.

What the Phrases Might Mean

These phrases come up often in training spaces. Sometimes they’re grounded in deep experience and well-explained. Other times, they’re passed along with little context—leaving people unsure what to do with them.

Take “speak from the belly.” It gets people thinking about grounding the voice lower in the body, which is useful. But we don’t actually speak from the stomach. What’s usually meant is that the voice should be supported by low, efficient breath—not by lifting the shoulders or tightening the upper chest.

“Drop the breath” often points to the same thing: releasing upper chest tension and allowing a lower, diaphragmatic breath to take over, rather than relying on shallow or high breathing.

“Place the voice forward” refers to a sensation some people experience—feeling vibration in the front of the face or head. But that sensation is shaped by vowel, pitch, breath pressure, and anatomy. It isn’t universal. And aiming for it directly can sometimes lead to tension or over-effort.

Usually these phrases are used by trained voice professionals who can explain them in practical terms. But there are also situations where this language is used in a way that sounds polished but isn’t connected to a deeper understanding of what the voice is doing. That can leave people unsure how to apply the advice—or whether it applies at all.

What Helps Instead

In my experience, real improvement comes when people start observing:

How they’re using their breath
Where they’re holding tension
How their tone responds to vowel shape
What changes when they adjust something small

You don’t need a detailed vocal map. But when a metaphor helps give shape to something you’re already noticing—when it supports physical awareness rather than replacing it—it can be useful. The image works best when it points toward something specific, not when it stands in for explanation.

When Advice Doesn’t Fit

Many people I’ve worked with come in carrying a mix of ideas—some metaphorical, some technical—that they’ve picked up from different sources. Some of it’s helpful. Some of it doesn’t relate to what they’re actually doing.

That’s where guided feedback matters. Even if you’ve trained your voice well—or have strong natural instinct—that alone isn’t always enough. Sometimes it helps to have someone who can point out what you don’t yet see. As Epictetus puts it:

“Even if the body is well-formed and disciplined, knowledge is still needed. What good is having a body like a statue if you don’t know how to use it?” — Discourses 3.1.25, paraphrased from the original Greek

A good guide doesn’t tell you exactly what to sound like. They help you recognize what you’re already doing, and what’s available to you next.

Final Thought

Metaphors aren’t the problem. But they aren’t the solution either. They work best when they come after experience—not in place of it.

If you’ve heard phrases like “place it forward” or “drop the breath” and they haven’t helped, that’s not a failure. It may just mean it’s time to observe what’s actually happening—breath, tone, effort, and response—and let that guide the next step.

📝 P.S.Subscribe on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/build-relation/newsletter-follow?entityUrn=7337908264820453378

#DevelopingYourAuthenticVoice#VoiceMatters#ExecutiveCommunication#InternalCommunication#VocalTraining#LeadershipCommunication#Clarity#CommunicationSkills#Presence

Wednesday, June 11, 2025

🎙️ Weekly Wednesday Insight #43: When The Process Becomes the Problem

Letting go of the score, trusting the preparation, and reclaiming presence.

Why would a top-performing team be told not to focus on winning?

Nick Saban, head coach of Alabama, doesn’t train his players to chase outcomes. He trains them to trust the next step.

He calls it “The Process.”

“Don’t think about the scoreboard. Don’t worry about the opponent. Just do your job—this play, this moment, this rep.”
— Nick Saban (paraphrased)

That mindset is appealing—especially when life feels overwhelming. When there’s too much to track, it helps to focus on what’s right in front of you.

But what happens when focusing on the next step makes you forget why you're walking?

The Trap: Getting Everything Right

Saban’s approach reminds me of something I see all the time in music: people want to get every detail right. Every note, every rhythm, every marking.

And the more they chase that correctness, the more they risk something essential—connection.

When I perform, I usually sing from memory. Most professionals do. It’s not just about skill—it’s about being present. Being in the song, not just looking at it.

But there are moments when I’ve kept the score on stage. Maybe I wasn’t fully secure on a new piece. And here’s what I’ve noticed—something many singers will recognize.

Having the score nearby pulls you back into the page.
You start chasing accuracy instead of living the phrase.
You focus so much on what’s written that you start to lose the sense of who you’re sharing it with.

Oddly, that “safety net” can make the performance less alive.

When Risk Brings Meaning

Singing from memory isn’t about showing off. It’s about being present—fully present. Not reading the song, but inhabiting it. Living inside the words, the music, the moment.

It is risky.

You might miss a word. You might breathe in the wrong place. You might even, heaven forbid, lose your way and not be perfectly accurate.

But the people you’re singing or speaking to aren’t tracking every syllable. They’re listening for the feeling behind the words—whether you’re really with them as you sing or speak.

We, as performers, know what’s on the page. We know when we deviate. But most listeners don’t—and even when they do, they often don’t mind. What they notice is whether we’re engaged. Whether we mean it.

And very often, meaning comes through more clearly when we’ve let go of the page—not in spite of that choice, but because of it.

The preparation—the process—is still essential. It’s what gives you something to trust. It’s what allows you to stand and speak or sing from a place of knowing, rather than fear. That’s what frees you to take the risk.

That’s the point when it stops being about technique and starts becoming communication.

The Trouble with Chasing Perfection

The danger isn’t in the mistake—it’s in what happens after the mistake.

You miss a word, a note, a breath, and suddenly your mind starts talking: “I can’t believe I did that.” “That’s going to throw the rest of this off.” “They probably noticed.”

And just like that, you're no longer in the room. You’re still performing, maybe even still technically correct, but you’re disconnected.

The audience is still with you. But you’re somewhere else, turned inward, trying to recover a moment you’ve already lost. And once that spiral starts, it’s hard to return.

I understand that pull. When I sing a piece from memory for the first time, there's a strong desire to keep the score nearby. Just in case. Just to be sure.

That impulse brings to mind the story of Orfeo and Eurydice.

Orfeo plays so beautifully that the gods grant him permission to lead Eurydice out of Hades—on one condition: he must not look back. But his doubt overtakes him. He turns to check. And in doing so, he loses her.

I think about that every time I’m tempted to glance back at the music. Every time I don’t quite trust that I know what I know.

Because when we stop trusting ourselves and start checking, we often lose the very thing we’re trying to hold on to.

The goal isn’t perfection. The goal is presence.

And the only way to stay present is to let go of the score and trust that the preparation is already in you.

"Orfeo had the music. But doubt made him look. In voice, as in life, real presence begins when we stop checking the score."

What the Stoics Actually Say

Process-focused thinking often gets linked to Stoicism. But the Stoics weren’t interested in rigid execution. They were concerned with alignment—with nature, with reason, and with one’s role.

“First, say to yourself what you would be; then do what you have to do.”
— Epictetus, Discourses 3.23

That’s not blind discipline. It’s the kind that comes from considering your role and responding to what the moment asks.

They cared less about doing it perfectly and more about doing it for the right reasons.

In Voice Work, Zoom In After You Zoom Out

When I teach voice, we focus on small things:

The vowel
The phrase
The gesture of a breath

But we never start there.
We start with: What are you trying to express? What does this passage ask of you?

Only once you know that can you build a process that supports it.

That’s where technique becomes art.
That’s when practice becomes performance.

What to Notice This Week

If you're feeling mechanical or uninspired, ask:

“Have I let the process become the goal?”
“What would this sound like if I stopped trying to get it right?”

And if you’re overwhelmed:

Shrink the frame. Ask: “What can I do well, right now?”

Zoom out when you’re stuck in the weeds.
Zoom in when you’re lost in the clouds.

Neither direction is always right. But one usually gets ignored.

Final Note

Nick Saban isn’t wrong. “The Process” matters. So does preparation. So does practice.

But if all you’re doing is running routines, you’ll miss the larger movement.

The Stoics understood this. Singers do, too.
You don’t just need effort.
You need orientation—and the willingness to step away from the page when the time comes.

#DevelopingYourAuthenticVoice #VoiceMatters #LeadershipCommunication #EmotionalIntelligence #Clarity #TheProcess #PresenceOverPerfection #TrustThePreparation #StoicWisdom #PerformanceMindset

Wednesday, June 4, 2025

🎙️ Weekly Insight #42: When the Words Are Yours

Recently, I wrote a LinkedIn article called Does This Sound Like You?

It explored how easy it is to let AI tools like ChatGPT take the reins when drafting a post or a comment. The ideas might be solid. The sentences might be smooth. But if you haven’t shaped it, spoken it, or infused it with your sense of pacing and vocal phrasing—it might not sound like you.

This week, let’s take that same idea and explore how it plays out in our voice—how we use it to shape meaning in the moment, whatever the setting.

When I work with singers or speakers, one of the biggest turning points comes when they stop trying to sound "right" and start trying to sound real. That often starts with listening—carefully—to how they speak, how they shape a phrase, how they breathe.

Musicality often gets treated like a vague artistic instinct, but at its core, it’s really about using technique—vowel length, breath pressure, dynamic shape, articulation—as a way to express deliberate personal intent. If you’ve taken the time to investigate what you want to say or communicate, then those technical elements become tools to bring that message to life. Musicality isn’t decoration; it’s what happens when technical control meets personal intention—when you know what you want to say and have the tools to shape it clearly. They show up in how we write—whether it’s a blog post, an email, or even a quick text message.

In fact, this is something I learned from a story about Frank Sinatra. Steve Wynn once described how Sinatra would sit down with a lyric sheet before rehearsing. He’d go through it word by word, marking the ones he wanted to lean into, where he’d breathe, and which lines needed more space—so their emotional or lyrical meaning could really register with the listener. Sinatra didn’t just rehearse for perfection—he looked at each lyric, made decisions about breath, emphasis, and pacing, and shaped the performance so it meant something real. His goal wasn’t polish—it was about forming a real-time intention in the moment, shaping each phrase so it carried something personal and alive.

Writing is like that. And so is singing. Even when the notes are on the page, it’s the phrasing—the way you shape each word and breath—that makes it yours. Whether you're singing a familiar melody or refining an AI-generated draft, the phrasing still has to reflect your intention and your voice. Without that, the result can be technically fine but emotionally distant.

In Developing Your Authentic Voice, we often work through four key elements: Intention, Breath, Tone, and Connection.

Intention: What are you trying to say?
Breath: Where does the breath settle? Are you holding it—maybe without realizing-, or using its energy to support what your intention?
Tone: Does your tone carry steadiness, urgency, warmth, or something else entirely—and is that quality intentional?
Connect: Can the reader—or listener—feel you behind the words?

These same principles can show up in many different settings—this is how I use it when I’m rehearsing a song, clarifying an idea, or expressing something I want to be understood in real time. Voice isn’t just about vocal cords. It’s about ownership. Vibration. Deliberate expression.

Whether you're writing with help or singing from memory, the challenge is the same: you still have to make it your own. Read it out loud. Phrase it. Shape it. Ask: Is this something I’d actually say—or sing?

Because once it sounds like you, it can reach someone else.

📜 “First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.” — Epictetus

Wednesday, May 28, 2025

🎙️ Weekly Insight #41: The Quiet Power of Giving the Benefit of the Doubt

A lesson from teaching—and from the detective's chair

Early in my teaching career, I worked with a senior lecturer who wasn’t tenured but had a steady, thoughtful way about her. One day, in a conversation that didn’t feel particularly momentous at the time, she said something I’ve remembered ever since:

“Give students the benefit of the doubt—every time you can.”

She wasn’t saying to ignore problems. She just believed that trust should be the starting point. That idea shaped how I approached not only teaching, but also conversations, feedback, and the way I listen to people when they speak.

Over the years, I noticed how often the opposite happened. Behind closed doors, some students were quietly labeled. Sometimes based on a single mistake. Sometimes for not fitting the mold. Publicly, we talked about inclusion. But in private conversations, you could hear who had already been written off.

The contradiction wasn’t theoretical. It showed up in how voices were treated—what was heard and what was dismissed.

The Stoic Thread: Understanding Before Judgment
Epictetus offers this reflection:

“If someone is mistaken, instruct them kindly and show them their error. If you can’t, blame yourself—or not even that.”
(Enchiridion 42)

It’s direct, but not rigid. It puts the responsibility on the speaker—not to dominate or correct, but to engage with care. And when care isn’t possible, the next move isn’t judgment. It’s restraint.

This reminds me of a coaching I had when I was a young apprentice artist at Lyric Opera of Chicago. I was working with the head chorus master on two arias—Provenza il mar from La Traviata and Largo al factotum from The Barber of Seville. At one point, we were going over a passage, and it was clear I wasn’t quite grasping what he was asking for.

In most settings like that, the usual response would be to keep repeating it until it matched the expectation—until you got the approving nod.
But instead of pushing me through rote repetition, he paused and said:

“Clearly you’re intelligent. If you’re not getting this, then I need to find a better way to explain it.”

There was no edge to it. No frustration. He didn’t assume I was being difficult or slow. He assumed it was his job to reframe what he was saying so I could meet him there.

That moment helped reshape how I understand communication—especially in situations where someone doesn’t respond the way we expect.
It’s not about lowering the bar. It’s about taking responsibility for clarity.
And clarity, when it comes to voice, changes everything.

Another line from Epictetus comes to mind:

“When someone does wrong, immediately ask yourself: ‘What mistake of mine most resembles this one?’”
(Discourses 1.6)

It doesn’t mean we excuse harm. It just asks us to remember we’ve all been there, in some way. And if we’re honest, that awareness can shape how we respond—with more calm, more care, and less performance.

What This Has to Do with Voice
Recently, I was part of a role-playing session where I was asked to play a detective.
Each person in the room had a character to portray. It was meant to be lighthearted, but what struck me was how quickly people were reduced to their assigned roles.
Assumptions were made based on how people looked, how they spoke, or what their titles suggested.

And even though we were just playing, you could feel people adjusting their voices. Some exaggerated to be heard. Others held back. A few got quiet altogether.

It reminded me of those faculty meetings. It reminded me of classrooms. And it reminded me how easily people change their voice—not because they’re trying to deceive anyone, but because they don’t feel fully seen.

That’s not just a performance issue. That’s a human issue.

And no, it’s not about being soft-spoken.
It’s not about extroversion or introversion either.
It’s about being clear—and deliberate—with your thoughts, your breath, and your presence.

In every setting—teaching, coaching, performance, or business—the voice reflects how we’re received.

Grace gives the voice space to come forward. That grace has to be modeled.

And it includes what Epictetus suggests: "forgive others over and over again, and then forgive yourself, too."

He reminds us that improvement is never linear. It's often two steps forward, one step back. If we expect perfection from others—or from ourselves—we tighten the space in which voice can emerge. The tension rises. And people speak less, not more.

That’s something I’ve had to learn as a teacher.
There were moments when I thought, I’ve said this clearly—why don’t they get it?
But what does frustration offer in that moment?
It certainly doesn’t lead to more clarity. And it rarely builds trust.

Epictetus says when someone doesn’t act the way you wish they would, you can “exercise the muscles of your good nature” by simply shrugging your shoulders and saying, Oh well.

Then let the moment go.

That doesn’t mean you never revisit the issue.
It just means you don’t carry it around like a brick.
You don’t speak from the weight of your disappointment.

That’s what my former colleague understood so well. She wasn’t naïve. She just knew that most of us are doing the best we can in that moment. And that teaching—and leading—with that in mind makes room for the kind of voice that isn't defensive or afraid.

It makes room for learning, for listening and for growth.

Try This
Before your next conversation, pause and ask:

“What would it sound like if I gave this person the benefit of the doubt?”
“What would shift if I gave myself that same grace?”

You may find the answer not in what you say, but in how you listen—and how your voice responds when you do.

Wednesday, May 21, 2025

🎧 Weekly Insight #40: Small Practices, Big Shifts — Building Vocal Presence in Daily Life

I recently had the opportunity to speak at BA & Beyond 2025—a gathering of professionals, facilitators, and change-makers from across Europe. The sessions followed a creative theme based on coffee—something close to my heart and perfectly aligned with the #NoBox spirit of the event. My keynote in Copenhagen was a lungo, meant to steep slowly and linger. A few days later, I led a ristretto session in Utrecht—a short, strong burst meant to spark awareness.

Later on, I read a comment that got me thinking.
It said, “I’ve never really paid attention to my voice—it’s just something that’s always been there. But now I realize how much it influences how people understand me, how I guide a room, and how I’m perceived when things get complex.”

That moment captured exactly what I aim to share:
Voice isn’t always about putting on a show.
It’s about showing up.
It’s how you hold space in a conversation, a meeting, or even a text message.

Why Voice Awareness Matters—Even in Everyday Life

We tend to think of voice as automatic.
But like any skill—like writing, listening, or focusing—it improves when we bring attention to it.

In the sessions I led, we didn’t do voice drills or public speaking exercises.
We tuned in.
We explored how breath shapes sound.
We asked: Where in the body do you feel your breath?
Is it high in your chest?
Low and wide across your back?
Are your shoulders lifting? Is your throat tightening?

These were small, practical checks—not dramatic techniques.
But they reveal patterns.

And when we understand our own patterns, we start to hear them in others too.
That’s where communication shifts.
Not because we sound more polished—but because we sound more present.

Try This: Selective Awareness for Voice

In my keynote, I shared a short video experiment called the “Selective Attention Test” (watch it here).
It shows how easily we miss what’s right in front of us when we’re focused on something else.
Voice is similar. We often don’t notice it until it breaks down or gets misunderstood.

But focused attention changes everything.

You don’t need a formal routine or hours of structured training.
You just need small, regular touchpoints—like a 12-minute practice.

Margaret Harshaw was my voice teacher, and I’ve mentioned her before as one of my biggest influences. One thing she taught has stuck with me: she believed it was better to do 12 minutes of focused practice than spend hours just going through the motions.

Over the years, I’ve put that 12-minute practice idea to use. What she taught was simple but powerful: start your day by waking up the body with a short 11- or 12-minute session. That might mean getting your breath involved, gently warming up the voice, or practicing something specific you plan to revisit later. Her approach went against the grain—back then, people would spend hours in practice rooms, repeating things endlessly without clear focus. I’ve done that too. It felt like work, but often it wasn’t productive. Her method taught me to practice with intention, not just time.

Practical Tools You Can Use Today

Here are three small ways to bring that idea into your daily life—whether or not you ever plan to step on a stage:

Record yourself speaking.
Try sending a short unscripted voice message to a friend. Then play it back.
Ask: Is this what I meant to convey? Did my tone match my intent?
Check in with your breath.
Take 30 seconds before a meeting to feel your breath.
Where is it? Shallow or deep? Can you ground it just a little more?
Accept the awkwardness.
Listening to yourself can feel cringey. I get it.
I made an audio recording of my keynote and only got 10 minutes in before I wanted to turn it off.
But I learned something useful. And that helped me grow.

It’s Not About Perfection

There’s a myth that good communication means no filler words, no pauses, no stumbles.
But the truth is—your voice doesn’t have to be flawless. It has to be you.

Filler words aren’t the enemy. They’re just signs you’re thinking.
If they take over your message, it’s worth adjusting.
But if they’re part of your natural rhythm, that’s okay too.

Voice isn’t something you perform—it’s something you bring with you.
It reflects where you are, what you care about, and how you're showing up in the moment.

When breath, tone, and intention align—even briefly—people notice.

They may not know exactly what changed, but something lands.
That’s the shift we’re looking for.

Like a good cup of coffee, the impact may seem subtle at first. ☕

But it lingers. It wakes something up.

#DevelopingYourAuthenticVoice
#VocalPresence #LeadershipCommunication #EmotionalIntelligence #VoiceTraining #Resonance #Authenticity #Clarity #Confidence #VoiceMatters

Wednesday, May 14, 2025

🎙️ Weekly Insight #39: When “YO!” Says It All

Last week, I stood in front of a room full of business analysts and asked them to shout.

Not present a chart. Not define a requirement. Just… shout. “YO!”

And they did.

What followed surprised me—not because the moment worked, but because of how deeply it landed.

Across the two sessions I offered in Copenhagen and Utrecht, participants described the experience in a range of ways: energizing, unexpected, joyful, grounding, even unforgettable. Some said it helped them reconnect with their breath and body in a way they hadn’t in years. Others shared that it shifted their perspective on communication—not just in terms of what they say, but how they say it. A few told me they’d never considered the voice as part of their professional toolkit before—but now, they wouldn’t leave it out.

Several reflected that the session helped them feel more empowered, more present, or more confident to speak with clarity and intention. Some were surprised to discover how physical their voice really is—how it lives in the diaphragm, rides on breath, and lands with presence. One person even described the transformation as “A1”—a little shorthand that says it all.

What struck me most was how deeply this idea resonated: that how we speak matters just as much as what we say. That our voice—our literal vibration in the world—is not something extra. It’s central. It’s how we carry authority, make connection, and invite clarity.

This is something I’ve explored in earlier reflections:

How tone and breath shape not only how others hear us, but how we feel ourselves (Weekly Insight #32)
How vocal intention is tied to emotional intelligence and leadership (Weekly Insight #34)
And how voice becomes a pillar, not a performance (Weekly Insight #35)

These sessions offered live proof of those ideas in action. The feedback wasn’t just kind—it was revealing. People left thinking more deliberately and with gratitude about this gift we all carry. The voice as a calling card. A bridge. A vibration that touches others in ways we often underestimate.

Much of what I shared comes directly through the quiet teachings of those who shaped my thinking: Margaret Harshaw, Giovanni Battista Lamperti, and Frank Sinatra. Though from different times and temperaments, they all taught—in their own way—that voice is not just technique. It’s intention, attention, and soul. I’m grateful to have carried a bit of their wisdom into the room that day.

And that’s what these insights are about.

Not performance. Not polish. But presence. Connection. And using the one instrument we all carry to reach others with clarity and intention.

If something in these reflections sparks something in you—or if you'd like to revisit what came before—you can find the full series at dyavwithelias.blogspot.com. Each post is a step toward exploring your authentic voice—whether you're onstage sharing your ideas, at home communicating, or showing up for your day at work. And if there’s a topic you’d like to explore more deeply, or a question about how these ideas show up in your own life or work, I’d love to hear it. Let’s keep shaping this conversation together.

elmconsultants.net@gmail.com

Until next time,
Keep breathing.
Keep listening.
And yes—don’t be afraid to shout “YO!”

#BABeyond25 @BA & Beyond #NoBox #AnalyseEverywhere #DevelopingYourAuthenticVoiceWithElias

Wednesday, May 7, 2025

🎙️ Weekly Insight #38: When Voice Becomes the Bridge

Yesterday in Denmark, I had the privilege to close the BA & Beyond 2025 conference with a keynote that wasn’t about performance—but about presence.
What stood out most?
How open the audience was to connecting voice to their daily work.
Business analysts, strategists, product owners—they live in a world of frameworks and systems. But what resonated most wasn’t another process.
It was the voice.

Voice as a Professional Tool

We hand out business cards, but we lead with our voice.
It’s your calling card before credentials, slides, or formal introductions.
Your voice gives immediate clues about how present you are, how grounded your message is—and whether you’re communicating or just delivering.
One person said afterward, “I didn’t realize how often I hold my breath before I speak.”
That’s where it starts.

Thought, Breath, and the Human Signal

We worked with this simple flow:
Intention → Breath → Tone → Connect
It’s not just for singers.
When you pause to breathe after each thought, you allow ideas to land.
When you rush to the end of a sentence, clarity gets lost.
When your tone is disconnected—over-rehearsed, unfocused, or mechanical—your message doesn’t land, no matter how strong the content.
Technique is a means toward expression—not the goal.
You can have gold to share in a workshop or keynote—but if the message isn’t clearly delivered, no one can benefit from it.
Voice gives shape to intention.
It makes the message not just heard, but felt.

Embodied Communication in Real Work

This wasn’t a session about speaking tricks.
It was about what shifts when your voice is connected to intention and breath.
That’s what makes voice a pillar of presence—in a meeting, during a negotiation, or in hallway conversations that shape decisions.
One participant and organizer told me the techniques and ideas I shared were surprisingly helpful and deeply connected to their work.
Several others shared that they were very tired by the end of the day—but that the keynote energized them, gave them a second wind, and left them with something they could use.
Another said they would never forget how much tone, intonation, and breath shape our impact as BAs—literally.
That’s always my intent:
To create content others can carry forward in their own voice.

Next Stop: Utrecht

I’ll speak briefly at ENERGIZE in the Netherlands.
It’s a short “ristretto” session, as they call it—a concentrated shot of connection to start the day.
We’ll focus on breath, body, and tone.
A way to ground yourself before the day gets moving.
A voice check-in before the next wave of change.
#DevelopingYourAuthenticVoiceWithElias #VoiceMatters #LeadershipPresence #BAandBeyond #MeetInMay #NoBox #ENERGIZE2025

Developing Your Authentic Voice (DYAV) with Elias