Let me be frank: I have mixed feelings about getting up in public to speak before large groups. This should come as no surprise since the fear of public speaking tops almost everyone’s list—surpassing death itself! As Jerry Seinfeld puts it, “If you were invited to give a eulogy at a funeral, you’d rather be the guy in the casket than the one at the podium!”
But what may come as a surprise is that for almost thirty years, I have made a handsome living from coaching others to speak in public—before large groups and small; before juries deliberating complex issues; in Congress; at shareholders meetings; and with clients giving keynote speeches.
My career has surprised me: I never imagined I’d have landed in the Boardrooms of corporate America, nor the courtrooms where major cases were being hashed out, nor in limousines coaching CEOs en route to a flight, nor in airplanes, posh hotels, and on expense accounts. The work was demanding and exhilarating. The high fees I’ve commanded, the accolades, the prestige, and the perks made my work fun and gratifying.
So why, then, would I rather avoid doing the very thing I coach others in?
I am reminded here of a line from Woody Allen’s classic Annie Hall: “Those who can do, do; those who can’t do, teach; and those who can’t teach, teach gym!”
For years, I preferred to help others hone their message, find their passion, and convey their joy (or at least, their information). But now, it has all come home to roost, for I am on a different path, having completed a book on the subject, called, “More Than Words Can Say: The Making of Inspired Speakers.” It is now my turn to do the lecture circuit, market my book, speak before groups, and sell, sell, sell!
For years, I dreaded the thought. I avoided it and even vowed that I’d never write a book. I kept that pledge for well over twenty years, happy to be running seminars, coaching brilliant clients to open their hearts and minds, proud as a mother hen when her children succeeded, and content to remain behind the scenes.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I never went before an audience. I had my fair share of presentations, keynote speeches of my own, and informal talks. But the thought of appearing before a huge audience, one I did not know, and speaking about my book, made me feel like a used-car salesman in a tacky, plaid suit, hawking his wares.
So, I had to coach myself. And my coaching always starts with awareness—self-awareness (the hardest kind to come by). But there I met resistance. Resistance is the dance partner of awareness. They waltz around, sometimes one leading, sometimes the other. And when resistance had stepped on the toes of awareness once too many times, awareness finally waltzed off alone.
Dancing solo is most liberating. No one else pushing you where you don’t wish to go.
No one else’s agenda is besting your own. When my own awareness found its voice, I realized that speaking with others holds no fear for me. One-on-one is my medium.
Total strangers are constantly confiding in me. New acquaintances appear to be old friends. Old friends share deep parts of themselves that they share with very few others.
Small groups hold no fright either. I have been running seminars for almost thirty years. I have been in classrooms with 6–200. My seminars get consistently rave reviews and in some firms have had waiting lists of two years. So, you might ask, what’s your problem? Why do you resist larger audiences? After all, you know what it takes to charm, seduce, embrace, inform, and inspire? You’ve seen clients transform from boring to sparkling all the time. You’ve been there, yourself! What’s up?
