🧠 Weekly MindSweep No. 230 | Mind Your Busines | Visibility
June 2026
Week 229 | Curated Conversation | Visibility
*Week 230 | Mind Your Business | Visibility
Week 231 | Manage Your Mind | Visibility
Week 232 | What’s On My Mind | Visibility
Week 233 | Curator’s Perspective | Visibility
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In the MindSweep this week:
Weekly MindSweep: Past issues live here.
Jamie’s Second Brain Corner: Links to references & MindSweep Mapping
What’s Inspiring Me - Chopin in Kentucky by Elizabeth Heichelbech
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Visibility Isn't a Marketing Problem. It's a Nervous System One.
This week, the ‘visibility’ classroom got very real for me.
Spoiler: I did not ace it.
Liz Heichelbech of Creative Incites led an improv class this weekend, so I walked into a room full ofmy people.(Listen if you want to sing along).
Public speaking keeps calling me, whether it's in the Curated Community, with Leadership MetroWest, the Sudbury Chamber of Commerce, or in my weekly writing here. Improv has been on my mind for a while.
I'm not new to using my voice. But there's something different about a visual audience of eyeballs staring back at you. The pressure builds, the expectation creeps in, and my armpits used to immediately activate.
My first experience with that expectation was a podcast interview in 2020. When the moment it ended, it was like I had blacked out and come to, wondering what I had actually said. Later, when I listened back, I was stunned. It was my voice, speaking things I truly felt and believed, with no recollection of saying them so coherently. I exhaled, hearing that I hadn't embarrassed myself, but I'd also been completely absent from the experience.
Apparently, confident-podcast-Jamie shows up whether I'm conscious or not. Good to know.
I got a few more podcasts under my belt and eventually said yes to something bigger. Project Empathy at the Hopkinton Center for the Arts. (I wrote about my experience within our topic of Failure). Six people from my community with no acting experience were handed a partner's personal story to embody and tell on stage before a live audience.
I mean, sure, no pressure.
We had three months of writing, editing, and learning how to inhabit someone else's experience. I remember the rehearsal day when the directors told us we'd need to memorize pages of content. Fear washed over my body. Can I do this? What the heck did I sign up for? From that moment, I set a goal: to memorize it, tell it with empathy, emotion, and compassion. Taking one paragraph at a time on morning walks with Walter, I’d listen to a recording of myself reading the story. It quickly became a daily practice that grew to several times a day. For the record, Walter has always been a very supportive audience.
And then the night of the first show. Standing backstage, heart pounding, listening to the low hum of the crowd. My brain started its loop: What if your voice shakes? What if you forget all of your words? What if they can tell you didn't do enough?
But when the lights hit, I planted my feet. I exhaled. And in that moment, I found my voice.
Each opportunity since has been a way to practice and a way to build confidence. The interesting thing about confidence in speaking, for me, is that once I find a place of comfort, I'm immediately searching for the next place of discomfort to grow.
Some people call this ambition. I call it a personality feature I did not ask for.
Improv felt like that next place. So I showed up. Joy, excitement, and vulnerability in hand, I was studiously ready to learn.
And what I ran into was visibility.
I know that I can have the capacity to be quick, witty, and funny. In the right room, it just flows right out of me. In the right setting, it comes naturally. But during improv, with everyone watching, I couldn't access any of that. It felt like I just shut down.
The quick, funny, witty human I know I am? She was apparently in the parking lot. And when the spotlight moved off me, she came flooding back in like she'd never left.
This isn’t a performance problem. It’s really about how our nervous systems respond to being seen.
What Improv Taught Me About Visibility in Business
What happened in that room wasn't unique to improv. In fact, it mirrors experiences found in creative entrepreneurship. I challenged myself to identify five places in business where visibility, viewed through this new nervous system lens, would regularly appear.
1. The spotlight shrinks your access.
When the attention lands on you on a sales call, in a pitch, or on a live video, your brain can go offline. Not because you don't know what you know. But because visibility activates the threat response. Your nervous system reads "being watched" as exposure, not opportunity.
The quick, witty, capable version of you is still in there. The spotlight just temporarily blocks the door. She's in the parking lot managing the pressure. She'll be back.
2. Comfort zones are sneaky.
I was in a safe room. But the room's safety doesn't always translate to safety in the spotlight. In business, you might feel completely comfortable with your community and still freeze when asked to explain your offer, get on camera, or introduce yourself at an event. Comfort is contextual. Visibility has its own threshold.
The room being safe and the spotlight being safe are two entirely different negotiations with your nervous system.
3. You can't think your way out of a nervous system response.
I didn't freeze in improv class because I forgot what to do. I froze because my brain handled exposure as a threat, not a content challenge. That's resistance and your nervous system doing exactly what it’s meant to do. This is an important awareness that matters most for entrepreneurship. When we tell ourselves we just need to "be more confident" or "just do it," we're skipping the actual work. This explains why visibility is not a matter of mindset, but a matter of nervous system regulation.
Telling your nervous system to calm down is like telling your WiFi to try harder. Technically possible, never effective.
4. Practice doesn't just build skill; it also creates a sense of safety.
Every podcast, every stage, and every Project Empathy rehearsal walk with Walter helped me improve at speaking. More importantly, they showed my nervous system that I could handle it. The same goes for business. Visibility grows with repetition.
Repeating these experiences won't make you perfect, but it will help your brain feel less threatened by being seen. You're not just improving; you're also proving to yourself that you can do it. Practice collecting evidence.
5. The version of you that comes out when the pressure lifts? That's the real one.
When the spotlight shifted away from me in class, everything returned—my quick thinking, humor, and focus. That version isn't an act; it's who I really am. She doesn't need external validation to show up. She just needs enough safety to walk through the door. In business, the challenge is learning how to bring that real version into the room, not by ignoring the pressure, but by helping your nervous system stay steady even when it's there.
The parking lot version of you is the goal. We're just trying to get her inside.
Here's what I'm holding onto from that room.
I went looking for discomfort, and I found it. And somewhere in the gap between who I know I am and who showed up when the spotlight hit, I found the exact thing we're unpacking all month.
Visibility isn't about being louder, bolder, or more polished.
It's about closing the distance between the person you are when no one's watching and the person you are when everyone is.
The gift in improv is that it doesn't let you prepare. There's no script, no rehearsed answers, and no carefully edited captions. It simply asks you to show up, respond in the moment, and be yourself in front of others. #VisibilityHangover
And that is exactly what creative entrepreneurship asks of us every single day.
The Low-Stakes Practice Opportunities You're Already Sitting On
Hey toe-dippers and pool jumpers! Building visibility in our business means understanding that our nervous systems learn through repeated safe experiences, not just pep talks. So, becoming more visible isn't about making one big leap. It's about practicing in small, low-pressure situations where you get used to being seen.
Here's where we can start taking reps.
Show up live — even briefly.
Going live on social media feels enormous until you've done it ten times.
Start with just five minutes. You don't need a plan. Talk about what you're working on, thinking about, or something you just learned. The point isn't to perform, but to show your nervous system that being in the spotlight doesn't have to be scary. Pay attention to how you feel before and after you go live. That difference is important. Remember, people aren't watching as closely as you think. Sometimes, even the algorithm might miss it. This can be humbling and deeply liberating.
Answer the question out loud before you type it.
When someone reaches out in a DM, comment, or email to ask you about your work, try answering it out loud first.
You can answer out loud to yourself, record a voice memo, or even talk to a plant. Walter has now listened to my entire business strategy and is always supportive. This isn't about creating content. It's about hearing yourself explain your value before you start overthinking it. Usually, your best, clearest answer comes out in the first thirty seconds, before you start editing yourself.
Introduce yourself differently every time.
Networking events, community calls, and Zoom gatherings are all places to practice. Try a different version of your introduction each time. The repetition of saying who you are and what you do out loud, in front of people, builds the neural pathway that makes it feel survivable first, then natural, then easy peasy. From there, you’ll stop sweating through your blouse. Eventually.
Pitch something small to someone safe.
You don't need a sales call to practice being visible. Tell a colleague about a new offer, mention your work in a comment, or share something you made without adding, "it's not finished yet" or "I'm still figuring it out." These small moments of showing up without holding back are like warm-up exercises for entrepreneurship. They're low-pressure, high-reward, and yes, a bit uncomfortable—but definitely worth it.
Record yourself. Watch it once.
This one's uncomfortable. I know. Try to sit with it. It's the equivalent of listening back to that 2020 podcast and realizing I didn't embarrass myself— I was actually there, saying things I meant. Try a video, a voice memo, or a recorded Zoom, and watch or listen to it once with the specific intention of noticing where you disappear and where you arrive. Have compassion for yourself when the disappearing is visible. This isn't a failure, it's the map. And you might surprise yourself.
Confident-podcast-Jamie is waiting in there somewhere.
Yes, And…Here is Your Next Move
You already have the witty, quick, connected version of yourself. She shows up when the spotlight lifts. And our practice this week isn't finding her, it's building enough safety that she doesn't have to wait for the pressure to pass.
I've stood backstage with my heart pounding and planted my feet anyway. I've blacked out on a podcast and listened back with relief. I've memorized someone else's story and told it with everything I had. And this weekend, I stood in an improv class surrounded by my people and watched myself go quiet in the exact way I came there to study.
The parking lot version of me is the one I came to find.
Improv is just the next room. And I'll be going back.
Remember, each small step toward visibility isn't just practice—it's progress. Keep taking your reps, and watch the gap close between who you are and how the world sees you. Your moment under the spotlight is waiting for you to step into it.
This week, your awareness invitation:
Stay curious about where the parking lot version of you tends to wait. Not with judgment, just with genuine curiosity about what she's responding to and what it might take to bring her inside.
My questions for you this week:
Where in your business does the spotlight show up — and what does your nervous system do when it arrives?
What has your parking lot version been waiting for permission to say?
Reply and share with me!
✨ You Belong Here. I can help.
Ready to Stop Managing the Spotlight and Start Working With It?
If you recognized yourself in the parking lot, in the freeze, in the flooding back, this is exactly the work I do as a brain-based business strategist for creative entrepreneurs.
We don't fix your visibility. We build the safety your nervous system needs so the real version of you can show up, stay, and get paid.
Curated Conversation
You Read It. Now Come Sit In It.
The costume comes off in June. Come as you are.
Every Monday at 8am EST, a small group of heart-centered entrepreneurs gathers inside Curated Conversation Evolution to do exactly this — name the hard things, borrow each other's nervous systems, and practice being seen in a space that knows how to hold it.
Your first month is free. Come find out what it feels like to be in the room where it's safe to say the thing out loud.
Listen if you want. Speak if you're ready. Stay if it feels like home.
Mondays at 8 a.m. EST. Start with coffee. Belonging included. 💜
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What I’m reading
Chopin In Kentucky
by Elizabeth Heichelbech
A novel about a girl who was too big for the room she was born into.
Sound familiar?
Chopin in Kentucky is the June read for Curated Conversation — and it arrives exactly when it should. Because the gap between creating work that asks others to be seen and allowing yourself to be seen doing it?
That's not just Marie's story. It's yours too.
In other news…
Feeling #FOMO about Curated Conversations? Join us!
