Congratulations! You did your homework, organized your thoughts, clarified your point of view and figured out what it was the group at the meeting needed to hear. You rehearsed out loud, took constructive criticism and made adjustments. You practiced relaxing, increased your confidence and nailed your part of that important meeting! At the very end, as you triumphantly sipped your water, the Senior VP of Marketing asked you that one-in-a-million question you were not prepared to field. When you regained consciousness and were removed from the conference room floor, you wondered,
You: What happened?
Me: Well, as far as I can tell, you let an unexpected question completely throw you. It threw you on the floor, actually.
You: I should have known that answer! How could I have been so stupid?
Me: It isn’t a question of ‘stupid.’ You were well prepared. You can’t know the answer to everything. What you just experienced was a very important lesson!
You: What I just experienced was a swan dive into industrial carpeting. I still have the pattern on my forehead!
Me: There is an old Russian proverb that goes like this, ‘There is no shame in not knowing; the shame lies in not finding out.’
You: Where I come from we have a saying, too. (makes hostile gesture)
Listen, I’m not advocating that anyone be unprepared. Spending time learning the material and developing a solid understanding of the topic is a basic and essential part of speaking with authority and confidence. What I am saying is that it is unrealistic to believe that we can know everything. I know a guy who acts like he does, and I tell you, he’s a terrible bore. Actually, I’ve met many more than one person like this – you know the kind – the authority on everything. I find that kind of unwavering certainty unconvincing mainly because it’s not possible. The truth is, you can’t know it all and no one expects you to. The people I admire most and who are considered the experts in their respective fields are, without exception, quick to say when they don’t know something. They have become well-respected as a result of their curiosity and their understanding that there is always more worth knowing.
It’s sort of like the menus at diners.
You: Uh-Oh…
Me: Bear with me.
A typical diner menu has about seven laminated pages of items – pasta, chops, “fresh” fish, burritos, burgers, buffalo wings, matzo ball soup, waffles, Chinese chicken salad, spinach pie, beef stroganoff, chicken Florentine – you get the idea. All I can think when I look at those menus is, they can’t possibly be good at all of this. I’ll play it safe and get the tuna melt. A fine restaurant, however, offers a one-page menu with only a few selections that represent the items the restaurant considers specialties. Know-it-all people are a lot like diner menus. They know a little about a lot of things, but rarely know any of them well. You may get the beef and the noodles, but you’ll swear it ain’t no stroganoff. I’ll stick with the tuna melt, thank you.
Worse than panicking and stammering is trying to fake it. I can never think about this without reliving the horror of the Miss South Carolina moment from 2007 that will stand for all time as the worst-case scenario in this realm. I don’t expect any of us would come out with a sentence like, “I believe that our education, like, such as the Africa and the Iraq, everywhere like such as, and I believe that they should, our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S. …” It, of course, goes on but I can't.
OK, shake that off. There is a graceful way to deal with questions to which we don’t have the answers. There is a way to respond that keeps your integrity intact and doesn’t unravel everything that came before the unwelcome question. (Who will remember anything else about that unfortunate young woman?) When you really do not know the answer, you need to say so. Why not be generous, and commend the asker for the quality of the question? If necessary, ask that person to clarify what they’re asking. At that point, you crafty devil, the attention goes away from you and turns to the questioner, where it belongs. Then you make a plan to resolve it. Let them know you are intrigued by the question, and that you’ll look into it and get back to them quickly (and be sure you do). After this, you can ask if there are any more questions and jump right back on track. Now, doesn’t that sound better than to trying to make something up? People can generally tell when you’re faking it and that can destroy the credibility of all you said before (making you look more like a diner menu than the plat du jour).
Besides, no matter how carefully you attempt to prepare for all possible questions, there will be that one that just never made it on the radar. Though I’m not superstitious, I make an exception for the laws of that troublemaker Murphy. If you prepared for everything but that one, little piece, chances are someone will ask you about it. It’s best not to kick yourself in these situations. Instead, do your best to be prepared and expect that someone else may come up with something you haven’t thought of. You can actually plan for it and rehearse responses. You can look at it as evidence of the dynamic nature of spoken interaction and a great chance to expand the topic. You can even find it interesting.
By now, you’re probably noticing that these secrets are, in one way or another, about giving ourselves a break and quieting the interference that detracts from our chances at doing a job we can be proud of. A person who stays composed and shows interest in the question he or she is posed gets my vote of confidence.
I like what Voltaire says: “He must be very ignorant for he answers every question he is asked.”
Do me a favor: Bring some water with you when you’re planning to speak for any length of time. I don’t know how the myth began that drinking water could ever be construed as unprofessional, but I’m telling you, someone is out there perpetuating it. People actually find a way to feel bad about having a dry mouth. There are plenty of legitimate things to feel bad about, and they want to add being thirsty? The only shame in a situation like this is choosing not to drink the water and pretending it’s not an issue. When listening to someone speak with what is commonly called “cottonmouth,” the listener can think of nothing else. When was the last time you saw a stand up comic perform without a glass of something to wet the whistle? (Robin Williams did a special in which he had about a dozen bottles of water on stage with him, and darned if he didn’t drink almost all of it. No one said, “Great show, Robin, but it would have been better without the water.”)
People seem to think that it is a deep personal failure that the moisture in their own mouth isn’t sufficient to support a lengthy discussion without re-hydration. How we manage to interpret a basic biological (and relatively predictable) condition as a source of shame is really one of the great mysteries. It’s like being apologetic about having to breathe. (Oh, wait a minute. There are people who look at breathing the same way.) It’s just one of those silly things that we think without…well, thinking. It begins when our mouth gets dry, our tongue gets pasty and our lips begin sticking to our teeth. There are two options here.
Option A:
Client (inner monologue): This is terrible! I couldn’t moisten a stamp for all the gold in Fort Knox! What the heck is going on? Everyone is looking at me try to lick my lips but my tongue feels like a rice cake. It’s not just dry, it’s a chamois! Now, I’m making weird clicking sounds like I’m speaking that African Bush dialect! Oh, great. I’m starting to sweat and tremble. My heart is racing! Oh, GOD! I’m having a stroke!
Option B:
Client (inner monologue): My mouth feels a little dry. (sips water and continues)
Which option to choose does not seem difficult to me. So let’s put this one to bed and all agree to drink water, as much as we need, while we speak and not give it any more thought.
You may be happy to know that this section isn’t just about dry mouth. It’s about understanding that we are people and that’s OK. When we tend to our basic human needs and give ourselves the best shot at communicating well, the listener gets the most out of the experience. Whatever comes up, we can gracefully acknowledge it, address it, and move on. Most of what might happen while we speak is fairly predictable - a cough, a burp, a stomach gurgle – you get the idea. Agreeing that something happened and then getting collected and back on track is the best way to go. Instead of panicking, we can silently recognize, “My stomach just made a really strange noise,” and then say out loud, “Excuse me.” From there, you just carry on. If you keep yourself from being frazzled and get back on track, the whole thing will probably be forgotten. It’s best not to pretend that these things don’t happen, but rather to give them exactly as much attention, and not one bit more, than the situation deserves.
If you’re thirsty, drink some water. People will wait. If you need your glasses, pause to put them on. Think ahead and use the restroom just before you have to speak. So many speakers deny themselves their basic human needs and suffer unnecessarily. Sounds reasonable, right? So what’s the problem? I would posit, if posit I may, that the difficulty comes in when we eschew our humanity in the interest of achieving some unrealistic ideal.
There is no logic to wanting to be “perfect,” so why am I so often confronted with really intelligent clients who admit, “I guess I’m just a perfectionist, so I’m never satisfied?” No wonder they’re frustrated! I mean, if we really thought there were such a thing as perfection in human behavior, athletes would just simply stop when they reached that perfect point, and that would be it. No need to improve techniques, try harder, or attempt to break records. Striving for perfection in this scenario would be like entering a race that has no clear rules and no finish line.
You: There she goes again with the metaphors. Next thing she’ll be talking about cooking!
Why is it that a chef continues to revamp the menu to continue to reach new culinary heights? Is it to become “perfect” or to continue to grow and evolve and discover new flavors and textures? Maybe there is no perfection because, if there were, it would render life really boring? Or maybe we’re all perfectly unique and have boundless possibilities? Or maybe I’ve been watching too much America’s Got Talent? Whatever the case, we’re human and humans are not capable of perfection. Period. I’m happy to report that perfection isn’t very interesting anyway. At least watching people trying to attain it isn’t. Perfectionists spend most of their free time either beating themselves up or turning their judgment on others. If this sounds like you, do yourself and everyone around you a favor and knock it off.
What do I mean by a hook? Well, I’m glad you asked. The hook is the thing that gets us interested in what we’re saying and, at the same time addresses the listener’s question, “What’s in it for me?” The hook has two barbs: One that grabs us as the speaker, and one that takes hold of our listeners. Sometimes, if the first barb has done its job well, the second one snares the listener automatically. But don’t count on it! I have been present in a number of situations when the person speaking is highly engaged in his or her subject and I, the listener, am decidedly not.
Once, at a cocktail party, a woman I barely knew cornered me and launched into a blow-by-blow of every agonizing step of her day leading up to the party. She was completely animated and interested in the subject – herself - but had no idea that, at that moment, I was evaluating my chances at survival if I took a leap out of the nearby window. (It wasn’t a total loss, I guess. I did learn that even a “really good pooper” like her miniature schnauzer, Marty, can have an off day…) No amount of Pinot Noir could make the story interesting to me – and trust me, I tested this theory. When the hook works for the speaker but not for the listener, some rethinking is necessary.
So, the hook has to work for everyone. When we’re lucky and a hook comes easily, it’s still a strong choice to try to raise the stakes, so to speak, to make it as interesting as possible to both you and the listener. Researching the subject, a major part of preparation anyway, is a great way to get that hook in deeper. Studying up on the subject is also the best way I’ve discovered to find a hook if it isn’t there at the start. Start with the basic purpose of the presentation and then take a closer look. We can hone in on the hook by asking ourselves, “Why is this important to the listener?” “Why are they there?” “What do they stand to gain?”
In Secret #5: Communication Is A Gift, I used my past experience as a presenter on the subject of notary law as an example of how to offer up ideas as an act of generosity. I’ll admit to you that it was a struggle for me to get hooked into this topic in the beginning. But as I thought about it, I realized that these people needed this information for one of several reasons. My words could either solve an immediate problem (a statutory requirement, or state exam preparation) or a larger, more long-term one (a way to be successful by understanding legal and administrative responsibilities – ultimately keeping my listeners out of jail!). The hook in that situation, and one I had to keep in mind as I researched, rehearsed and presented the material, was that I was saving these people from some serious trouble and also giving them the information they needed to succeed. In some ways, the hook was built into the speech and I certainly could have delivered it without thinking about it. But thinking about what was important for my listeners brought the presentation to life and gave me something to do with it all the way along. (If you’re curious, the angle I took with this presentation was conspiratorial - that I was one of them and I could save them from the pitfalls I’d seen others experience.)
Whenever possible, I try to at least like my material. I spoke about this in Secret #6: Rehearsal Required. I gave examples showing how actors must find a way to love the piece and their character while they work on it. That way they keep their performances fresh and engaging. When we find something to love in what we’re doing and we are committed to giving our listeners something that they want or need, our speaking becomes more active and people listen. We have a clear goal, the hook. It is the promise we’ve made to the listener and we must do our best to deliver on it. As we prepare, we should ask ourselves, “Will I succeed in hooking my listeners with this?” The words we speak then are not simply a recitation, but part of an active process of set up and delivery. If my goal with the notary law was to arm my listeners with helpful tools and essential knowledge of their job, I have something by which to measure my success each step of the way. I keep the hook (and the angle) in mind as I speak, too, and observe my listeners to make sure I’m hitting my mark. If I’m not succeeding, I know my material well enough to make adjustments on the spot.
Client: This is hard work!
Me: Yes, it is!
Client: You say that like it’s a good thing. I was hoping that it would be more like…
Me: A magic pill?
Client: Yes! That’s it! A pill! Do you have one? It’s OK with me if it hasn’t been approved by the FDA yet.
Me: Listen, one of the obstacles to doing this well is the bogus notion that it’s supposed to be effortless. It’s not. It takes energy. But it’s really rewarding!
Client: I guess I see what you mean - It only looks easy when it’s done right. I get it. …Can I have the pill anyway?
Once we realize that effective communicating can take some real energy, we can let go of shaming ourselves when it doesn’t come so easily and get to work. I won’t lie, there are people who can do all of this effortlessly and well. There are people in every discipline for whom that can be said. But there are more people out there who are successful in their communication as a result of hard work, and who enjoy those successes with great pride.
Now comes the part when I get to do my Ronco spiel, “But that’s not all! If you find a great hook and are mindful of it when you speak, you’ll also get a FREE set of confidence and fewer distracting mannerisms! (plus shipping and handling)” In the act of offering that hook to the listener, we are engaged and focused when we speak. When we are engaged and focused, what we are not, is fearful and distracted. They are mutually exclusive states of being. I love how that works.
In our personal lives, most of us have a story we just love to tell. When we get a chance to tell it, our self-consciousness disappears and we aren’t thinking of anything else. We know the story well and we want to share it with others, to make them laugh, to entertain them, or maybe gain their sympathy or concern. This is within us naturally. We have faith in the strength of the story and we aren’t thinking, “Don’t say ‘uhm’ and don’t stumble!” We can bring that same level of intention to our speaking at work, on stage, in a conference room, and show our best front and center. The hook and the angle do a great deal to get us there.
The angle we take on a particular subject is what makes it interesting to us. The angle is the point of view, or the perspective the speaker offers to help shape the message and give it dimension. When an angle is well developed, the information the listener hears becomes more specific and compelling. It is this personal viewpoint that turns a topic from, “Real estate sales are beginning to increase,” to, “As panic over the economic crisis begins to wane, people again see real estate as the safe bet for their money.” Or from “Cruising is the most popular vacation option for families,” to, “Cruising: Strap on the Feedbag and Get Your Nap On!” (OK, maybe not that one…)
We are generally inclined toward having a point of view when we speak, so sometimes the angle is present from the start and is easy to identify. This perspective comes, in part, from who we are. We can find a point of view by asking ourselves, “Why am I the right person to talk about this?” (When I talk about these secrets, I often do so from the point of view of someone who was trained as an actor because that is such a big part of my background.) Other times, we’re not so lucky. In lieu of a naturally occurring position, knowing the needs of the listener may guide the speaker to making a good choice. For example, if I were going to give a talk to seniors about unique events in the city in which they live, I might want to present it from the point of view that people generally underestimate the abilities of seniors. I may divide the activities into groups ranging from the more energetic to the more relaxing. It’s the same information, the events haven’t changed, but I have organized them around the point of view that some activities would be more or less enjoyable depending on the participant’s abilities.
You: So, I have to present a report on Aunt May’s Bundt Cake quarterly earnings in the Northeast region. I’ve got a great idea for my angle! I’ll come from the perspective that we could have doubled our profits - instead of flat-lining like we did - if Warren hadn’t pushed for that asinine cross-promotion with the anti-fungal cream. Good, right?
Me: Wait, cake and athlete’s foot? You’re saying those things don’t go together? Well, it’s not my area of expertise but, even assuming you’re right, you might do well to choose a more diplomatic angle - unless you want to make an enemy out of Warren.
If there is any doubt, a confrontational approach may not be a good idea. How provocative we want to be with our perspective is another choice we have to make. Generally, the situation will tell us how far to go. Ask a trusted friend or colleague to weigh in on it if you’re not sure. The angle may be anything from bold and unconventional, to very subtle, merely shading the idea. Whichever choice you make, it may have the power to make listeners rethink their assumptions about a particular subject.
Here’s a great example of how this can work: One of the things that made my aforementioned professor’s lectures so interesting (see Secret #5: Communication is a Gift) was that he spoke about Human Biology from a unique angle: What happens when things go wrong? He talked about his trips to India, where he encountered rare maladies, and described how they were the result of this or that malfunctioning biological system. He spoke about the people and their conditions with the utmost respect, and drew a clear line between observation and judgment. He also made it extremely interesting by using this angle to show why these systems are so important to healthy development. When I left his class, I thought about how these ideas applied to me, as well as to others around me. His lectures, mind you, were for the bonehead biology class that everyone who wanted a diploma was required to take. It was standing room only in a lecture hall that seats hundreds. Obviously, I was not the only one who appreciated the unique perspective of Dr. Swan.
Conversely, I remember exactly nothing my astronomy professor said, nor do I remember his name. (My expectation had nothing to do with it - I had anticipated astronomy to be a much more interesting subject than biology.) He conducted each class with a flat affect, referring to pages in our heavy textbook and avoiding anything that might give any hint of relevancy to those of us sitting opposite him. He offered no insight, no perspective, nothing that might suggest he had any interest in the subject. This teacher simply followed the book, quizzed us on the summaries of each chapter, and gave us grades based on how well we answered. He was uninvolved, uninspired and completely uninteresting. There was absolutely no angle to his speaking and, I would therefore suggest, that there really wasn’t much teaching going on at all. But other than that, a really great guy.
Teachers have a tough job because, to do it well, they have to keep a group interested for an extended period of time. If they’re smart, they choose a subject to teach that excites them and about which they have a strong point of view. When we are presented with topics that inspire in us many ideas and perspectives, the job of choosing one or a related group of them is relatively easy. The task becomes more difficult when the subject is more fact-based, and/or if our role is defined more as an unbiased reporter than an editorialist.
With what I call a Dragnet - or a “just the facts” - report, there still may be room to point the attention of the listener to what we, as the presenters, find to be notable about the results. It can be subtle, but it helps to have it in mind. (“Here is the list of participants for our fund-raiser. I think it’s interesting that more than half of them are also members of the board of the Schtickle Foundation”). If the job is simply to say out loud the items on a list that everyone has in front of them, and nothing more, then do that we must. In this case, we serve less as a speaker and more as a reinforcer of what people are seeing on a page in their possession. It could be a desperate way to get a group of busy people to give their attention for a moment to something they might otherwise overlook. So that has its place, too, I suppose.
Still, one of the best ways to become a go-to person for perspective and ideas is to show that capacity at appropriate opportunities. If the occasion doesn’t present itself, then it may be time to think of a topic and an angle yourself. Then you can pitch it as a possible presentation for the future.
As you will see in the next secret, Secret #8: Find the Hook, the angle and the hook are interdependent and work together to make our communication dynamic. They’re also both related to fishing, but that’s not important right now.
Ever wish you had a time machine that could take you back to the moment you completely botched something so that you could have a do-over? I have. Unfortunately, the folks at Apple won’t be releasing their time travel software until next June, so we’ll have to rely on good, old-fashioned preparation. In this section, I’ll be referring mostly to slightly more presentational speaking opportunities, such as group meetings and larger settings, however, there is nothing to say that a less formal rehearsal process wouldn’t be helpful in preparing for one-on-one meetings and conversations.
You are likely familiar with the unique and gnawing sensation that only regret over a lost or blown opportunity can cause. These are the scenarios where, after the fact, we think, “If only I had…,” or “Why did I…” There’s nothing to be done about it now, but the mind refuses to let it go. The event plays itself out again and again, as it actually happened and, more frustratingly, how it should have gone, keeping us up at night. Sometimes these situations are unavoidable but those that could have been avoided are particularly nagging. Here is where rehearsal can really save us. Rehearsal offers the golden opportunity to try things out before we actually do them and recognize the potential quagmires before we step into them. When we rehearse, we find out just where the problems tend to occur and we get the chance to change our plan to account for them.
In simplest form, a rehearsal is a period of time set aside for the purpose of working through or practicing something in advance of the real thing. A great performance is one for which the work has been done ahead of time. No one wants to see a play when the actors are grappling with the script after the curtain goes up. Likewise, it’s a huge mistake to work out your speech while you’re giving it. Rehearsal is the time to work it out. Skip this step at your peril!
Be sure to use whatever information you have to make the most of your rehearsal. If you will be standing while talking, stand while you rehearse. If you will be holding a microphone, hold something similar to a mike and keep it a consistent distance from your mouth. If you will be using visual aids, make sure you have them available to refer to. As many a personal trainer will tell you, muscles have memory, and if you work out your speech and do it well during rehearsal, it will feel more natural and familiar when you do it for the presentation. Whenever possible, enlist the help of a trusted friend, colleague or spouse (and/or a video camera, if you have one). Their feedback can be very useful and it will give you a more authentic experience of what it feels like speaking in front of others. Make notes on areas of trouble and dedicate a little time to working those areas out. Don’t get frustrated if things aren’t working. This is precisely when you want to know what doesn’t work because you can fix it.
“If you get a basket you’ll win three free throws, a box of biscuits, a box of mixed biscuits and a biscuit mixer. So, fix the biscuits while I make a proper cup of coffee in a proper copper coffee pot.” (I wrote this, but Ed edited it.)
You: Where the heck did that come from?!? It seems our speech coach has lost her marbles!
Me: I prefer the word “misplaced.”
Do me a favor and look over that paragraph in blue, all the way to the closed parenthesis. Look it over twice. I’ll wait. Now, read it again - but this time, read it out loud.
There would be no way of knowing just how difficult that paragraph is to say by reading it silently. It is surprising how tricky individual words and word combinations can be to say aloud. If, while rehearsing what you plan to say in a presentation, you come upon a word or series of words that trip you up, change it. You are the God of your presentation and if it doesn’t work for you, it has to go. If, for some reason, you cannot change it (a direct quote, or something of that kind), use part of the rehearsal time to go over that section again and again, slowly, until you have a better command of it.
In a lengthy educational recording project I was hired to do, I had to quickly say the URL to a web site at the end of each page. After practicing by repeating it over and over again about twenty times in a row, I was able to say “www dot” swiftly and smoothly. The first time I tried, I couldn’t say it rapidly even once. You try it. It looks easier than it is. Had I not prepared out loud, I would have taken the client’s time and the time she was paying the engineer, studio, and director - not to mention me - to do my homework when I was supposed to be executing the job. Adding unnecessary time to the job would inhibit my chances of being hired in the future, so there was a real bottom-line inspiration to get it right. But regardless of that, no one wants to flounder while everyone watches and waits – especially when it can be avoided. Rehearsing out loud is not a guarantee that nothing at all will go wrong, but when or if something does, you will be on much stronger footing to deal with it. When you’ve gone through this process you will find it does not phase you nearly as much. Rehearsals may be formal or informal and may be repeated as often as time allows, but when it comes to speaking, to be effective they must be conducted out loud.
Me: Would you take a drug that a scientist has thought long and hard about but has never researched or tested?
You: What kind of drug?
Me: What?? ANY DRUG!
You: Just kidding – you’re not the only one who gets to joke…No, of course I wouldn’t!
Me: Right! This is because you want to know if it works before you take it – and, more importantly, to find out what problems it may cause. That’s the researcher’s job.
Your job is to test your presentation before you try it out in the real world.
Clients who are used to working silently and then get up to speak find they stumble over words, struggle with pronunciation and discover gaps of logic, flow and pace and feel terrible about it. Sitting down to organize your thoughts and format what you plan to say is only part of the challenge. On paper, moving from one subject to another may seem graceful, but on your feet and out loud, you may find a need for a transitional thought here and there to help the flow. Or you might come across something redundant that could be cut to save some time for a more complicated section later. If you’re running out of breath, maybe you need to divide the sentences into smaller chunks, or mark where you need to breathe. There is no limit to what you might find in the course of rehearsal that, in improving, will necessarily make your efforts more successful.
By now, you’re probably seeing that I really enjoy offering a single recommendation that results in additional, unexpected benefits. This secret is no exception. I’ve been saying that rehearsal affords us an opportunity to try an idea out in the safety of the lab, if you will, before we expose it to others. What comes from a productive rehearsal process is not only a better product, but in making it better, we feel better about presenting it and that increases our confidence. Rehearsal gives you real experience with speaking the material, an opportunity to smooth out the rough spots and a good idea of how it - at least your part - will go. I’d call that a win-win-win.
It is my sincere belief that communication, at its best, is an act of generosity. I imagine that you have been taken by surprise by a speaker’s ability to bring a dry or technical topic to life and make it interesting. My Biology 101 teacher in college was so passionate about the subject and so generous in his speaking style that I seriously considered changing my major and lining up to be one of his lab assistants! So, what’s going on here? How is it that some people can make a subject, anticipated to be dull, riveting, where others choke the life out of one we expect to be interesting? There is more than one answer to this question, but in this section, we’ll talk about what I’ve found to be a very important aspect of it: The Generosity Factor. You give a talk. You give a presentation. Generosity. When you approach communication as something that you’re giving to others, as opposed to something to which you are being subjected, some interesting things start to happen.
Giving is not only a simple expression of goodwill. It’s also an action that requires strategy and thought - (what would be valuable to the listener, and how can I deliver it in the most effective way?) – two things that, in the doing, leave little room for other energy-suckers like self-consciousness. When we are hard at work actively giving to the listener, we waste little time on insignificant imperfections that, in a less focused and purposeful situation, could derail our efforts. A wide receiver, ball in hand, doesn’t stop running for the goal because he stumbles on his way there. He keeps his eye on the end zone and continues moving in that direction. So, too, the attention of the giver is fixed on their goal: giving something of value to the other. As we pursue this end, self-consciousness begins to diminish and we appear more confident - because we actually are. We have a plan of action that focuses our attention on the message and its effectiveness, and less on ourselves. I also often find that, once connected in this way, other issues my clients struggle with - such as anxiety, fast-talking, pause placement, rough pacing and flat-line intonation, as well as place holders (like “ums,” for example) - become less pronounced automatically.
It is also far more interesting to watch and listen to someone in the act of doing something, than it is just hearing them talk. Of course, when we speak we are talking, but to what end? If it is merely to say out loud words printed on a page, then the words can come out as flat as the page they are written on. When, however, the goal of each speaking opportunity is put in active terms and involves clear steps to achieve a benefit to the those listening, the speaking style naturally becomes more engaging to both the speaker and the listener.
Actors use this technique to keep their performances fresh and alive for each show. A professional stage actor typically performs the same show eight times per week (and this is after what can be as long as a six week rehearsal period). Eight times every week they say the exact same words to the exact same person in the exact same play. In film, they do take after take of the same scene, repeating and repeating the same lines. Acting is hard work, not because the performer has to remember all those lines (that’s actually fairly easy), but because they have to say them each time, over and over again, as if it were the first. Not only that, but they have to speak those words each time with honest emotion and a clear point of view.
You: Get real, Stephanie. Plays and films are written about entertaining things we all find interesting. I have to head a meeting on the “Decreasing Utilization of the Twist Tie!”
Me: Have you seen any of the “Deuce Bigalow” movies?
You: Very funny. If you need me, I’ll have my head in the oven…
But seriously, do not for a minute believe that every play or film in which an actor performs is one he or she loves or feels passionate about. Actors (even stars!) are routinely cast in projects they don’t particularly care for – work is hard to come by and they must take what comes their way. In these situations good actors must find some way to throw themselves into it and try to love that lousy play, if only for the duration of time they must perform it. In the case of the actor, their goal is to serve the play, tell the story, and be actively engaged in doing something all the time with those words. I’ll get into this concept in more depth in Secret #7: What’s The Angle, and Secret #8: Find the Hook. For now, suffice it to say, that if we look deeply enough, we will find a way to make the topic interesting to ourselves, to love it enough to convey it with generosity and to be beneficial to our listener. It is a far greater challenge to do this giving with a gift we’re not sure we like but it is not impossible.
You: Two words: Twist ties!
OK, so you don’t believe me. Would it help you to know that for several years I toured the country giving six-hour presentations to (sometimes hostile) audiences about the statutory requirements and penalties associated with notary law? Take your time and re-read that last sentence. Many people listening to this presentation were required by law to be there, and had to take an unpaid day off of work to attend. Not bad enough? In many states, the attendees were then required to take a lengthy state exam based on the material I had just covered. By comparison, the twist ties sound spellbinding! It was hard work finding a way into this material and trying to be generous with it in a manner that would be meaningful to others. But I’ll tell you something: It was so gratifying to hear these bleary-eyed attendees at the end of a long day of notary law say that they were pleasantly surprised by what they had learned, that those six hours went by pretty quickly, and that they even enjoyed themselves. I’m not making it up. I have reviews to prove it. I did it and you can, too.
This secret is one of my favorites because it really taps into the best part of ourselves: the generous part. I find people are at their best when they are acting in a giving spirit. I know I am. We also may find that we actually enjoy the experience. When we are in the act of honestly bestowing something of value to others, we tend to feel pretty pleased about it. So that’s nice. Feeling good is…well…good.
Humans. What curious animals! We love to be praised and shrink from criticism. Yet, we often doubt a compliment while being quick to believe an unflattering assessment. What other creature suspects what they want to believe and accepts fully what they fear? In the words of my most esteemed psychology professor: it is uniquely mishugina.
The lack of trust we feel in positive feedback is most often the result of our own insecurities; perhaps from unkind or unwanted criticism we received as children. (What criticism means to each of us is deeply personal, and requires individualized attention that cannot be addressed here.) We are also aware that there may be cultural norms that encourage disingenuous compliments. After all, a compliment is easy to give. A criticism, when it is thoughtful, knowledgeable and intended to be genuinely helpful, is more difficult to give - as well as to receive. That may be part of why we tend to lean toward the negative, but there is another option here.
What if we listened to both - what others perceive we are doing well, and what may be in need of some work - with equal consideration? Can’t both offer valuable information to us? Furthermore, what if we limited ourselves to receiving input only from those whom we believe are offering it with the intention of strengthening our abilities? While we’re at it, why not run the feedback we get through our own filters and our own best judgment, and see how it matches up with how we feel? True, sometimes what we feel we are doing and what we are actually doing don’t match up so well (and that's why outside critique is so helpful). Still, we have valuable instincts and self-perceptions and they deserve to be heard. As we continue improving, these instincts and perceptions often become sharper. Getting thoughts from several people you trust can also help to determine if the impression is generally held and therefore deserving of more attention. It's not a conspiracy, it's an opportunity.
So, first order of business: Don’t give credence to the opinions of those you don’t respect, don’t trust or - for whatever reason – don’t like (see reference to Helen Gurley Brown in Secret #2: Fear Is Like Excitement & It Can Be Harnessed). I live in the same world you do. I am aware that there are some miserable people out there who suffer from such deep insecurities that they routinely say things to be hurtful and to shake the confidence of others. If they can’t feel good about themselves, no one else should be able to either, apparently. Generally, we know who these people are and have seen them in the act of cutting down others or trying to demonstrate their discriminating taste by hating everything. DO NOT listen to these people! Why would you? People like this are not a reliable source of useful information and clearly do not have your welfare in mind when they “share.” If someone who fits this description begins to offer unsolicited “observations,” thank them for their thoughts and promptly ignore what they have to say. Remind yourself who is talking and shift your attention to a person in whom you have some faith. The message here: Consider the source.
Second in our lineup is: Spoken communication isn’t the same as talking. Talking. Most of us have been doing it since around our twelfth month of life. Why should we need help with that? Well, most of us don’t. But there is a big difference between saying words and communicating thoughts, sharing ideas, offering persuasive arguments and conveying emotions and not everyone has the best skills for it. Often, we make the mistake of thinking that communicating well is – or should be - instinctive or autonomic, like our heartbeat or blinking. It isn’t.
Hearing about the challenges we face with spoken communication can feel like being told we have a fundamental defect. We feel like we are hanging our whole self out there, bearing our souls. So when someone makes a critical observation, the perception is that our whole self is being rejected or assessed as wrong. The reality is that it is usually a response to something more technical and that can be modified with minor adjustments, having little or nothing to do with our deeper personality. Sometimes, the feedback can be more personal, it's true, but rarely is it a rejection of who we are.
As it turns out, good communication skills and techniques are mostly the result of learned behavior. The examples we are given as children at home, at school and with our friends has a great deal to do with how we develop in this area. Generally, and in simplest terms, the better those around us communicate as we are growing up, the better the skills we develop. Because we have very little control over that when we’re young, we are not all on equal footing starting out. Luckily, it’s never too late to make improvements (nor is it too late to forward this blog to your parents, who might benefit from it as well!).
There is also another stumbling block to receiving criticism as a productive tool: The adult ego. Even though we are adults and have jobs and responsibilities, we still have to work at things to become good at them. Yes, we’re out of school, possibly deeply invested in our professional life with families of our own - like real and true grownups. It can be startling to think that we have to go “back” into a learning or student mode in order to improve on the way we do things. The return trip to an open, learning mind can be a rough one and our egos can get a little bent out of shape at the possibility that we don’t have it all wrapped up by now. I have had so many experiences coaching people at all levels that go something like this:
Me: Right now, the message seems a little flat and I’m struggling to differentiate what is important. I’d like you to show me more of how you feel about what you are saying, so I can get involved.
Client: Exactly! I’m just not good at that sort of thing and that’s why I shouldn’t be doing this!
Me: The idea that you need improvement here is precisely the reason that you SHOULD be doing this! How else are you going to get good at it?!?
Once we see some good results, the attitude starts to improve and the ego backs off. We can get back in touch with the unique satisfaction that comes from learning something new and working up to strong proficiency or even a high level of expertise.
There are so many things to be said about criticism and its necessity to growth that I’ve struggled to keep it to what a blog can offer. For now, I’d like to impress that, in order to make positive use of criticism, we have to be open: open to the compliments, the neutral observations, and the negative ones. We have to balance a mixture of feelings about how we are doing. Then we can appreciate both our strengths and weaknesses and work on the latter with a purposeful and positive intention. When approached that way, that which was weak may become strong.
Many professional speakers and performers claim to experience some version of stage-fright no matter how many times they step in front of a group. You are probably aware of the legendary pre-show jitters reported by the likes of Barbara Streisand, Lawrence Olivier and Carly Simon, but it may surprise you to find out that even people like Abraham Lincoln, Sigmund Freud and Donny Osmond (yes, even DONNY!), among many others, have reported significant anxiety prior to performing for a crowd. Now you may be thinking:
You: That's just great, Stephanie. So now you're saying that even the pros can't bear performing. How the heck can I be expected to do it?
I'll opt for root canal, thanks.
Or something to that effect. Here's where that very powerful sensory capability - perception - comes in. We have a choice.
One has to wonder: if it's so horrible, why do these people continue to do it? One answer: It's Exciting! The second question that comes to mind is: How do they manage it and still get out there? It is often a matter of PIP: Perception, Imagination and Practice.
Although the physical sensations associated with anxiety really and truly feel like those that immediately precede a painful death, they are purely the product of the mind and, as such, can be manipulated. However convincing the feelings may be, I have not heard of anyone actually dying from speaking in public. Additionally, many of the sensations we associate with fear and anxiety are shared with an emotion that we actually enjoy: excitement. What would happen if you made the choice to try to shift your perception by interpreting these feelings as excitement and see if they can propel you forward into the experience? Too much to ask, you say? I don't think so. It is possible with a little practice.
Don't get me wrong; like Babs and Abe and Donny, I have experienced those scary feelings. I have been gripped by fear and, I assure you, I have been seduced by the Dark Side. In my case, the darkness often manifests as a tiny and loud-mouthed critic who sits just behind me hissing in my ear about 1) how it can't be done; or 2) who am I to tell anyone about anything; or 3) how I'm not good enough; or 4) how I will blow it so badly that no one will ever forget it and my failure will be a favorite topic at cocktail parties for years to come. (For some reason this critic looks a lot like Helen Gurley Brown, but that's not important.)
Even with this nay-sayer on my shoulder, when it comes to things that involve what I want or need or that would be good for me to try, I always strive to direct my perception toward whatever interpretation offers the greatest opportunity. I try to see it as an exciting challenge and to assess the consequences in concrete, and not purely emotional, terms. To refer back to Secret #1: People Want You To Be Interesting, what am I doing listening to a critic whose opinion I don't respect anyway?!? My imagination is expansive enough to produce a Lilliputian Helen Gurley Brown, why then shouldn't I also be able harness it to lob a dime-sized lemon meringue pie in her face? Imagination and Perception.
Another thing to try as you feel the fight-or-flight responses beginning to ramp up prior to a particularly scary presentation or meeting is to talk to yourself. You may want to do this silently to avoid the possibility of being involuntarily institutionalized but, if you can find a place to be alone, then go ahead and speak out loud. Here are some of the helpful things you can say to yourself:
I am not dying.
These feelings I'm feeling are a prehistorically programmed and misdirected autonomic nervous response that should be stored up for real emergencies (like running from a charging woolly mammoth.)
1, 2, 3, 4. This counting refers to counting out the breathing, one of many relaxation techniques I use with clients who struggle to calm the system and slow down. I'll touch on this again in Secret #3: Relaxation Is A Skill.
Hmmm...My throat feels dry. I should make sure I have some water up there.
Hmmm...My palms are damp. I'll have to remember to bring a tissue or handkerchief when I do this next time.
I AM NOT DYING. (it bears repeating)
It may seem silly and obvious but it is an effective tool to "talk yourself down" when fear threatens to derail you. No disrespect to Sir Lawrence or Carly, but these fears are irrational in the sense that they are not attached to real danger. Though it feels like the end, it isn't.* Talking to yourself and thinking through the reality of the situation and what can be done about it shows your autonomic nervous system who's boss. You're probably not afraid of the dark anymore, but you may have been as a child. You learned to diminish that fear and you can do it again with this one. Practice.
One thing I value about coaching people with these fears is that we have an opportunity to really look into the underlying issues and address them more effectively than in this type of general forum. One tool I use is a video camera. It can be very intimidating at first, but the fear of the camera is easily overcome with practice and it serves as an invaluable tool to help isolate the areas that need work. The best part? The camera also shows when the work is paying off, which helps to boost confidence and demonstrate in full color your ability to progress and succeed.
Who you are and how you think about yourself will have a lot to do with how easily you take to these changes. If, somewhere along the line, you decided that being a professional and being a human being are mutually exclusive states of existence, your road will likely be a bit longer.
It is my belief and experience that everyone can improve and feel better about the prospect of speaking in front of a group, or even in an intimidating one-on-one situation. You can improve by working on this on your own and, if you want some objectivity, customized attention and help, you can get a great deal done with a coach. Still, it's not always realistic to expect these feelings to disappear altogether. The goal is to learn to live with the symptoms and lighten their effect through practicing these and other techniques. In this way you may find that public (or other) speaking is not as miserable and frightening as you first thought. And it's no woolly mammoth.
*I am aware that, in very rare cases, the reasons for these fears are real - though never genuinely life-threatening - and potentially more consequential. We would have to look at those individually, separate and apart from this overview.
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