I recently lost my voice. After a couple of days, it returned and I was able to speak again. But my singing voice wasn’t in functional shape for more than a week.

Leading up to an event where I was scheduled to sing, I gave my voice a 24-hour rest: no speaking, no whispering, no attempts to vocalize. In a household with family and pets, this was a bit of a challenge, but I made it work.

During that brief stint, I had a worrisome thought: what if I encountered a neighbor? How would I reply if I was greeted? A simple, non-verbal wave? A smile and a gesture toward my throat? Would they understand without further explanation? I didn’t want to seem rude and it’s not like I was wearing a sign or a label.

And that’s just it: for the most part, we don’t wear signs or labels. We just navigate the world with all this stuff going on inside and the outside world has no way of knowing — not unless we explain. And explaining isn’t always simple. Or convenient. Or appropriate.

I’m having a bad day. I’m anxious about a test result. I lost a loved one. I’m preoccupied because of a thing at work. I’m feeling unwell. We all have countless private influences that can pull us below baseline.

The hope is that we’re accepted with kindness. That others tell themselves a story about us that is based on compassion, generosity, and the benefit of the doubt.

It’s an approach that can begin with each of us. It doesn’t even have to involve speaking.