Fear of the first few minutes in public speaking
September 29, 2009
I swim for exercise. I swim in pools that are kept relatively cool so that lap swimmers don’t overheat when they work up a “sweat”.
This means that it’s always hard to get into the pool at the beginning of my swim. Once I’ve been in the water for even one lap, the chill wears off and the temperature feels fine, but the anticipation of diving into cold water always makes it hard.
I’ve found that I’m much better off just not thinking about the water temperature ahead of time. This is especially true as I’m getting ready to leave home on a cold and snowy winter morning because I’ll never get to the pool if I think at all about the cold water awaiting me.
Transitions are always hard. Getting into the cold water is one example. Moving from one project to the next is another. Arriving at a party is another. And, starting a presentation is classic!
Probably the most common statement I get from my public speaking clients is “If I can just get over the first few minutes I’m fine.” Most often, it’s the accumulated anxiety in anticipation of a presentation and the surge of nervous adrenalin when we first get up to speak that make those first few moments so miserable. In fact, many highly capable and talented people opt out of important speaking engagements simply because they dread those first few moments.
It helps to look at these moments from the perspective of transitions. In fact, our brains are designed to automatically become more alert when we move from the status quo, what is known and comfortable, into a new situation.
This is because it’s in those moments that the most primitive structures in the brain must determine if our survival is at stake. If danger is detected, signals get sent that trigger the fight, flight, freeze or appease response and we experience the sweaty palms, rapid heart, and racing thoughts that so often characterize the fear of public speaking. But if it seems that we are safe, there’s no threat, then essentially that primitive brain goes back to sleep and we can go on with our business without interference.
This entire sequence of events is engaged whenever we encounter a moment of transition. And, if we can simply take the process in stride, recognizing that it’s a natural part of our reaction to change, we then simply ride the waves of the anxiety without getting too attached to the feelings, knowing that it will eventually pass.
The problem for many speakers is that they mistake this heightened state of alertness for fear. And, fear begets more fear, feeding off itself, until it becomes intolerable.
To a certain extent, getting over the fear of public speaking is really about getting out of our own way and staying in the present moment.
When I get ready to go swimming I don’t focus on the temperature of the water. I do focus on how much I enjoy swimming and how good the water feels by about the third lap. Then I stay in the present moment. I just take one step at a time. I take the shower to wash off before going to the pool’s edge. I put on my bathing cap. I put on my goggles. And, then just as I put my legs in the water I jump in. I don’t linger, giving the fear its head. Instead, I just go. The first length is cold, but then I start to feel my stride (or stroke) and I’m in the flow and loving the water.
The same is true with public speaking. Instead of putting our attention on our fear and all that can go wrong, we focus on the key message we want to make and why it’s important. We then stay present with what’s happening in the moment. We say hello to people as we enter the room. We focus on the person announcing us. We feel our feet on the ground. Whenever we feel anxious, we simply take whatever next step is upon us. We don’t let the anxiety take control of us. We simply say to ourselves…. “Ah… there you are, just as I expected.” And we don’t attach to it. We don’t give it power. And, as we begin to speak, and settle into the rhythm of our interaction with the audience, the anxiety begins to diminish, eventually melting away, leaving us to fully enjoy our time in front of the group.
The Tai Chi concept of Sung
March 28, 2009
This has been an interesting week for me and I think I’ll create separate posts to allow my thinking to develop.
It began on Monday night in my Tai Chi class where we explored the experience of Sung. There is no literal translation for Sung. It seems the closest we can come to it in English is relaxing or sinking. In my mind it has something to do with allowing my weight to drop with gravity while at the same time experiencing the accompanying rebound that comes from fully experiencing the support of the earth. When I do that, I’m no longer “uptight” but rather deeply relaxed, flowing and grounded at the same time.
I’ve often been curious about why it is that when we feel nervous and anxious our muscles try to lift us off the ground, causing us to feel that uptightness. I think it has something to do with all our energy flowing up into the anxious thoughts in our head, the highest point of our physical self. Where we put our attention, that’s where energy flows. So if we’re focused on all our anxious thoughts that are up in our heads, our muscles lift up to meet that energy.
When we feel anxiety speaking in public, that uptightness gets amplified and there’s no sense of being grounded. So, I’m always trying to help people experience Sung when they speak. How can you drop your weight down to the earth? How can you give your weight over to gravity and allow the rebounding, upward flowing energy to happen naturally?
To me this has something to do with learning to trust ourselves and to trust that when we let go, let down, relax, we will have far more access to all of ourselves and consequently far more access to both our audience and the message we want to convey.
(I hope to post the second theme of the week tomorrow.)
The power of silence to unite…
March 7, 2009
I recently attended a meeting where after we went around the room and introduced ourselves, we dropped into a period of silence before anyone began to speak. This was not an uncomfortable silence but simply a time for each of us to become present so that the ensuing conversation felt very different than the way an ordinary discussion might go in a typical meeting. When the conversation finally started, it felt as though we were each speaking from a grounded collective as opposed individual separate voices.
Several years ago, the keynote speaker at a conference started his talk with a full minute of silence. This wasn’t a nervous silence but simply one of “arriving”. It seemed to me that as he looked out into the audience in silence, the speaker was inviting us into his world. While the audience was restive to begin with, as the minute passed everyone seemed to calm down and wait with quiet expectancy for him to begin. When the speaker finally did begin to talk, the entire room was with him.
I was on a conference call several months ago where each of us was invited to take a few minutes to check-in. That day one of the participants wasn’t feeling particularly verbal and said so when it was her turn. But instead of passing up the opportunity to take a turn, she simply became quiet allowing the rest of us on the call to drop into a meditative state. It seemed that after her turn, the quality of the call moved from the ordinary busyness of day-to-day conversation to one of deep respect and regard for each other.
These are three examples of how silence can bring people together if we allow ourselves to rest rather than chafe when nothing is being said.
Paying attention
February 25, 2009
I was in yoga class this morning doing a posture in which I was paying most attention to the position of my upper body. While in the posture, I suddenly became aware that I had no sense of what my left leg as doing… it was just hanging there without any awareness on my part (it had no presence in my consciousness). Once I tuned into my left foot, in particular, while also paying attention to what my upper body was doing, the posture felt more integrated and I felt more present.
I find that when I speak, I can get so focused on what I have to say or how the audience is responding that I lose myself – some people describe this as having an “out of body” experience. I find that by simply paying attention to the contact my feet are making with the floor, I can then re-occupy myself and be much more present to myself, what’s happening in the room, how my audience is responding and the message I want to convey.
Having a conversation…
February 11, 2009
I’m a newbie to blogging and I’ve just discovered that I had the “making comments” section turned off. Now I’ve just got to figure out a way to make them more readable! So if you’ve tried in the past to comment and were unable to do so, please feel free to try again.
Intentional Attention: Insights from the cha cha cha
February 4, 2009
I took an aerobic dance class yesterday at my fitness center. We were doing the cha cha cha and a series of steps with lot’s of turns. Long ago as a modern dancer I was trained to “spot” when I turned, that is, to focus on one spot during a turn so that I could stay balanced and not get dizzy. I found myself spotting yesterday as I was doing the cha cha cha and after one particular turn the gift of my ability to spot left me with a moment of startling clarity. The insight that came with that clarity was so compelling that I found it difficult to continue dancing for the rest of the class.
So, what was my insight? When we have an intention to focus our attention in a particular way, we feel present, steady, grounded, clear. And, this is true despite all the activity swirling around us. The dance steps I was doing were fast paced. The music was loud. There were many other dancers in the room. New steps were being presented continuously. In turning, it could so easily have led to my feeling off balance. But in the moment when I completed that one turn, with a clear focus on my spot, all the frenetic activity around me became still and I was momentarily simply THERE.
When we feel anxious, we often have a feeling that there’s too much swirling around us and we find ourselves in an ongoing state of imbalance. This is particular true when we are doing an important presentation in the throes of a fear of public speaking. In these moments, our mental state creates an experience of chaos and we feel out of control.
In those moments of high anxiety, the physiological stress response kicks in and we are thrown into survival mode. One manifestation of that internal “fight or flight” state is that our eyes rapidly scan our environment as we become hypervigilant.
In a speaking situation this translates into what I call the “radar” scan – we continuously look around the room without really seeing anyone. To use my dance “spot” analogy, this is the equivalent of not focusing on anything when we turn, which leads to falling off balance and feeling dizzy. The net result of this experience is that we amplify the fear that was already there.
In my years as a public speaking presence coach, I have found that letting our gaze rest quietly on one person at a time as we speak (what some would call “eye contact”) with a conscious intention to truly see the person we are looking at, has the same effect as the “spot” has in a dance turn. In a way that might seem quite paradoxical, this gentle focus of our attention on a single person at a time instead of the “crowd”, calms us down, steadies us, brings clarity in the moment, brings us into balance, keeps us from feeling dizzy, slows us down.
And, it has another benefit… Our audience feels invited in, included, important. They feel attended to and so become more interested in what we have to say.
