Category: Entrepreneurial Wellness

In these late pandemic days, many of us are feeling “Zoomed” out.  It started in mid-2020, when colleagues started taking cough drops or dry mouth candies before entering conferences, group meetings or contract interviews.

More than a year later, many of us are tired of seeing ourselves and each other on video.  Some have made light of the problem by adding flowers or pig-ear icons to their online images.  People have blogged on the politics of turning off the “video” function off altogether–the politics of being seen, of being the object of another’s penetrating “gaze,” analyzed so exhaustively by academics in the 80s and 90s.

Marketing genius Seth Godin (who speaks to people across all divides of discipline, age, race, class, gender and more ) blogged recently that he’s concerned about our “actual voices”–that not enough of us are being heard:

“It’s pretty clear to me that our speaking voice is not the result of the inevitable physical evolution of our vocal cords. It’s something our brain figured out how to do with the part of our body that keeps us alive by breathing.

And because [in evolutionary terms] it’s a late addition, there are a bunch of kinks in the system . . . .

[Speaking involves] a huge number of sensitive muscles and nerves. . . . Add microphones, Zoom, and the high-stakes world of being seen, and you can start to understand why it’s so easy to get hoarse, to sound like someone you’re not, to develop tics, to amplify your stress, and a whole host of other challenges.

If you don’t sound like you, it might simply be because your brain is sabotaging the thing you’re trying to say. I used to riff about ‘no one gets talker’s block’ but now I’m not so sure. I think most of us do.“

In my recent months as an online ESL teacher, I’ve displaced some  of my writing work (as a business writer) with teaching–which, of course, relies on my literal voice.

To facilitate daily talking online, I start most mornings by steaming my sinuses over scalding hot water; I run a humidifier at night and sometimes by day, to relieve my throat from our dry prairie air.  I stay hydrated as much as I can, as well.  These are all tried and true methods recommended by family doctors and vocal coaches, alike.

In Covid times, it’s harder to speak well in a climate where we rightly but paradoxically are masked in public (and sometimes in private),  to keep us (including our voices) safe.

I still feel “talker’s block” some days, especially when a new student does not participate enough in our conversations–perhaps not feeling confident enough to risk making errors in English–when they want me to talk, to compensate for their insecurities.  It’s far better for them to risk making mistakes, so I strive to build  an online classroom that is safe for experimentation.  But due to the seamy world of cyber-connectivity, we all generally feel we shouldn’t trust the folk we meet online.

When struggling with “literal” voice issues, Godin urges everyone “to find a good voice coach. Not because you’re some fancy keynote speaker about to go on the TED stage. Simply because you have something to say and it would be nice to be able to say it without pain. It’s easier than ever to have a few sessions remotely, and many people I know have found it life-changing. . . .

The world needs to hear from you.”

Speaking daily with students from such countries as Belarus, Ukraine, Iran, Japan and even to new immigrants to the US, I am struck by the diversity of their experiences and how much my mind is broadened by conversing with them. Andrea from Italy (a pseudonym) is a leading authority of Asian history who inspires me to find time to read the books he has, so that I can keep up with him! Jeanette (also a pseudonym) stays late at work some evenings to meet me on Zoom, when she shares her concern for  minority human rights in her part of the globe.

The distinction that Godin makes between “literal” and figurative “voices” is erroneous and for the reason he unconsciously acknowledges when urging us to get voice coaching: “[Y]ou have something to say and it would be nice to be able to say it without pain.”

Not just because of the pandemic, but certainly due partly to it, we are living in some of the most pain-filled times our planet has seen.  Very few people can speak of their lives or work without expressing at least some pain–even if it’s  unconsciously  (e.g. Godin’s reference to a false sense of self, verbal tics, etc.).

Such times demand that we find good listeners  more than  good vocal technique teachers, be they the literal audience of a TEDTalk (e.g. Simon Sinek speaks about empathy), a close friend or loved one, or a trustworthy psychotherapist.  When we tell our stories to valued others, we may begin to heal.  I named my business “Storytelling Communications” in part for this reason.

I believe that the world does hear from you, my colleagues, my students and others, when we find a way to give literal and figurative voice to our pain, instead of aiming to free ourselves from it.  For centuries, human beings have called this process art.

I feel remarkably privileged now that I can work with entrepreneurial mentors, colleagues and friends; and most recently, with my ESL students, to hear and speak about pain (and other emotions, too).

Through teaching and writing, I feel that he world does hear from me–at least some of it. That happens as  I facilitate others’ telling of their stories. The physical and psychological are interwoven. And this work matters.

Even if Zoom is the best way that it can  happen.

Seventeen months into this worldwide pandemic (if we consider it to have begun in March of 2020) and the world is very stressed. Even if we could bracket off the imminent collapse of our hospital system in Saskatchewan, under the strain of the fourth wave of the Delta variant, everyone who’s honest will admit to feelings of anxiety, exhaustion, burn-out or even panic. These words have passed nearly everyone’s lips, whether to describe their own state of mind or that of their loved ones.

Evidence-based policies and the need for earlier interventions (lockdowns) went ignored by some provincial governments.

Some eligible adults continue to refuse vaccination, while kids under the age of 12 do not yet have that choice and are falling ill. ICU nurses must attend inadequately to two or even three patients at once, whereas in non-Covid times, s/he’d have only one. Daily case counts on the day of writing have reached nearly 500, in Saskatoon alone. Five or more patients in our still relatively small city are dying, daily.

The province is seeing per capita a rate of new cases more than three times the national average; and a death rate of four times that. Important surgeries have been postponed; organ donation suspended. People are lonely and dealing—or dying—with their fears and worries, alone.

And, as medical science tells us, the surge will not end soon.

Those of us who heeded medical science and sought full vaccination continue to follow Covid protocol (masking up, keeping to small bubbles, etc.) while our government refuses to reinstate a much needed lockdown.

Some Covid patients, who are lucky enough to be successfully treated and discharged, must use oxygen at home. As one CBC story detailed, they “have to learn to breathe again.” The province of Ontario has developed a home oxygen therapy program for patients, post-discharge, since their recovery continues for months (or longer) after leaving the hospital.

But those of us who do not contract Covid and so do not need oxygen therapy, also need to remember—or to learn for the first time—how to B-R-E-A-T-H-E.

Integrative Medicine Specialist, Dr. Andrew Weil, who leads the “Center for Integrative Medicine” at the University of Arizona, advocates for the 4-7-8 breathing technique–a simple, efficient exercise that can be done anywhere, in any physical position (although sitting with one’s back straight is best to facilitate air flow).

During a particularly chaotic day for me, recently, I returned to my practice of this exercise and found, within five or six minutes, a noticeably calming effect. The exercise can be done in public spaces (e.g. doctor’s offices, public transit, before public presentations, etc.), although then one might inhibit the “whooshing” sounds of exhalation that Weil recommends.

If you haven’t tried this particular exercise, please try it to deal with pandemic life!  Here are its five, simple steps:

1. Place the tip of your tongue against the ridge of tissue that lies just behind your upper front teeth and keep it there for the duration of the exercise.
2. Close your mouth and inhale through your nose to the mental count of four.
3. Hold your breath for a count of seven.
4. Exhale completely through your mouth, making a whoosh sound to a count of eight. This is one breath.
5. Inhale again and repeat the cycle three more times for a total of four breaths.

Weil writes that the tip of one’s tongue should stay in position the whole time and that “exhalation should take twice as long as inhalation. The absolute time you spend on each phase is not important; the ratio of 4:7:8 is important.”

If you’re unaccustomed to breathing deeply and holding your breath, Weil recommends speeding up the exercise, until your strength increases, but keeping to the ratio of 4:7:8 over three cycles.

The goal is to “slow [breathing] down and get used to inhaling and exhaling more and more deeply.”

Of course, this American “physician to the stars” has popularized breathing practices that stem from centuries-old Buddhism. Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, on whom I have blogged in the past, observes something important for our crisis ridden world: “Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.”

Feelings and even this pandemic, will pass (or eventually so).  What we can control is how we cope with these things–for which there is no better strategy than breathing.

For further information, including videos of breathing exercises by Weil, and healthy diet and eating that counters inflammation and upset, see his website:  https://www.drweil.com/health-wellness/body-mind-spirit/stress-anxiety/breathing-three-exercises/

And now it’s your turn. Are you breathing deeply through these trying times? Please share your best practices on my “contact” page. I’ll breathe easier by hearing from you!

As many Canadians watched last evening, Canadians elected another minority parliament with Prime Minister Justin Trudeau.

While watching the polls and listening to all of the politicians’ speeches, I was reminded of a recent spoken word poem from the UK’s Tomos Roberts. Referred to as “Dear World Leaders,” it calls for leaders on our planet  to address the dearth of wisdom, insight and ethics so commonly in the news–and to value the arts and artists, as vehicles to communicate those values.

Critics can easily charge Roberts’ (aka Tomfoolery’s) poetry with being idealistic. But he makes a grounded appeal for political leaders to find better vision and demonstrate a greater commitment to ethics than most do.

Copyright(c) “Tomfoolery,” here is his poem:

“Dear World Leaders:

I know your job isn’t easy, and the pressures immense, as you navigate uncertain, unfolding events. 

You ask us to stay in our homes and put on our masks. Well, I come to you now with the simplest of asks.

Just encourage us. Look back through the archives—the most famous of speeches. Shakespeare’s Henry the Fifth, Churchill’s “Fighting on the Beaches,” Martin’s Dream of the children with skin black and white, in a world hand-in-hand who would play and not fight.

They sprung verse from adversity through world movements and war. They used words that when spoken helped the hopeless’ wings to soar.

Right now, these are the speeches that we so need to hear. So our goosebumps stand up and we’re roused from our fear. Look, you can tell us of cases, ‘til we’re blue in the faces. We all know the dangers, but the whole human race is, in this moment, confronted with the very same foe.

And you were chosen to guide us all through the unknown, so we hang on your message when things slip and decline. Connected only by screen, we share statements online. But we’re stuck on one narrative and it’s always alarmist. So a word to the wise: don’t discourage the artists.

We need the creativity of people more than ever right now. Call upon them to reforge the old stories of how–we inspire the youth and look after the old, or bring peace to the tired, as they shoulder their load.

Look, if you’re an elected world leader then that surely implies we need more than polite please to “just stay inside.” It’s so disheartening to feel like these words are in vain, when such talented people are told to retrain.

You have dancers, comedians, poets galore. There are actors, musicians, filmmakers and more.

And while key workers are working themselves to the bone, and when weary and drained they must find their way home. What words of encouragement ring out in their minds, what strength for tomorrow do you want them to find?

We need plays to be written and songs to be sung, we need solidarity now so we might overcome.

It’s an emergency but not just the medical kind; ‘cause it pervades through our spirits, our hearts and our minds.

Where’s the passionate speeches that I have not heard, to encourage gives courage—that’s why it’s part of the word.

The last thing I want you to hear in this rhyme is that one day together we’ll look back at this time.

We will collectively mourn those the virus has taken. There’ll be businesses broken and livelihoods shaken. But I’d wager right now that our spark will return and those embers will ignite a new beacon that burns.

But what of you, I do ask. What will your legacy be? What will the history books read; what will you want us to see? Inspire us now and we’ll remember your name. We’ll remember how you answered the call when it came.

Kids will quote you in essays, as they remember this strife, we’ll make toasts to your word; they’ll make films of your life.

So the gauntlet is laid, take it up, if you dare: with intelligence, empathy, wisdom and care.

Just give us something to cling to; encouraging words we may heed.

I hope you’ll be that world leader; that’s the world leader we need.”

© written, directed and read by Tomfoolery: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXKT04MGIzo