By Jean McClelland

A baby cries, and we are riveted by its urgency. Children play and laugh, and we stand in awe at their spontaneity and the richness of their imaginations. We resonate with their joy and yearn for when we, too, experienced such openness. Even a young child’s gibberish is filled with inflection and color, which communicates eloquently.

What has happened to make so many of us self-conscious about creative self-expression and embarrassed by the sound of our own voice? How can a baby bellow for hours and never get hoarse, while we feel strain and vocal fatigue after a few hours of teaching or even after a long chat? Why do our voices tend to disappear when we have to express ourselves in a meeting or in front of a group?

Perhaps the real answer lies in understanding what has disconnected our voice from who we really are.

The Power of Impulse

When a baby cries or a child laughs, their bodies are totally involved. Emotion flows through their muscles and is reflected on their faces. This exquisite mind-body coordination is the result of perfectly timed communication from the brain and spinal cord to nerve endings in the muscles responsible for breathing and sound.

This process is fueled by impulse (chi), which physiologically can be described as a powerful, but mostly unconscious, desire to express. We hear impulse in the roar of a lion or the cry of a dog for its master, and we experience it in the raging of King Lear.

Uncovering and bringing impulse into our consciousness is part of the journey in finding our authentic voice. A voice that is free, communicative and without strain happens when a steady flow of breath—fueled by impulse—vibrates the vocal cords.

Remember our little baby? What makes its cry so robust is the perfect coordination between the deep abdominal muscles and the respiratory muscles. Most of us tend to lose this coordination by the time we are three or four, but we can regain it.

The search for one’s true voice is a deeply intuitive process of rediscovery. Sometimes, though, it can be difficult to let go of preconceptions about how our voice should sound and just allow it to emerge. Freeing our voice from life’s constraints may make us feel somewhat vulnerable, though at the same time it can be liberating. We must approach our work with a sense of curiosity, discovery and Zen-like patience. Then this wonderful, freeing process will cease to be a mystery and will never be lost.

Jean McClelland is on the faculty of the Columbia University School of the Arts and the New York Open Center, where she teaches Awakening Your True Voice. Her new class at the NYOC begins November 4, with a free intro October 28. For more information, visit JeanMcClellandVoice.com.