We work with professionals who feel they are valued for the semi truck of information parked on the left side of their brain.  Very smart and gifted people come to us who are frustrated because when they focus on that information and “getting it right,” they lose command and presence. 

There is another problem in speaking from the facts if we proclaim them to be The Truth.  We should have the courage to tell the truth, but respect the future as unknowable. In the 1899 the head of the U.S. Patent Office wrote a letter to President McKinley in which he suggested closing the office, for he believed that there were no more new discoveries to be made.  As the Universal pace accelerates, discoveries are made daily.

Roger W. Sperry was the biologist who rocked the world with his research in the 60s and 70s.  He discovered the right-brain-left-brain dichotomy of the brain:  the left brain handles verbal and rational brain thinking.  It thinks serially and reduces its thoughts to numbers, letters and words.  

The right brain is your intuitive, conceptual brain.  It thinks in pictures and dabbles in imagination, non-linear thought and the big picture.

Of course the brain is greatest mystery of our time.  Sperry was awarded a Nobel Prize in 1981, although we know the brain functions are quite as simple or polarised as once thought.

But Sperry’s dichotomy has given us a powerful way to understand the two forms of thought.  In Daniel Pink’s 2006 best seller A Whole New Mind, he says that while moving from the Information Age into the Conceptual Age, we will rely more on the six right-brain aptitudes:  design, story, symphony, empathy, play and meaning.

We are authentic when we know the facts and can continue to be original, imaginative and curious.   Albert Einstein, the most brilliant science mind of our time, said “It is a miracle that curiosity survives formal education.”

Saying you don’t like “talking about yourself” is misplaced modesty—it’s actually being stingy with yourself.  Be generous.  Tell us your stories.  This is a way of talking about things that are bigger than words.

Storytelling is a basic tool of human creativity and communication.  If we hear about the obstacles you’ve overcome, your story resonates with us, because we have been there.  Everyone has fought to overcome obstacles in their lives.

The best stories are short and simple, specific and not general, and, they carry sensory images.  You take us into the moment of your experience by sharing what you were seeing, hearing, feeling.

The reliving of a moment stirs our passion and kicks up the electricity that can create a generative process.  That is to say, a story told from the heart creates new meaning and new relevance for the listener. 

 When you guide us into a message through story, we understand it beyond mere words.  You offer your insights and the result is new insight, new meaning.  This is no small thing.

“Sankofa” (SAN-KO-FA), is a West African word meaning “Go back and fetch it.”  It also describes the process of going back to collect the wisdom of yesterday, in order to build for the future.  If you will connect with your own experiences deeply enough, your stories will resonate with everyone.

To capture story moments from the past, build on the list of life events you identified on Friday.  Consider:

A mistake I made—and what happened

A decision I made that changed my life for the better

First jobs, new jobs, losing jobs

An experience that has shaped my philosophy

Something I had to learn the hard way

My role model for leadership—my mentor

Once you identify an event that has heat, carry it around with you and let it simmer.  As images come up, jot them down.  What is the most powerful moment you recall? What were you seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, smelling and feeling?  What is the meaningful point when I consider how it has impacted my life?

Don’t insulate yourself and your relationships from the experience that has shaped you, your philosophy and your life.  Tell the truth—your truth.  It’s scary, but it’s very, very powerful.  When you do, you will release all of us into authenticity.

The diving board thumped as divers hit the water.  The place was bee hive of kids and towels.  I stood in line with my mother to register for swimming lessons at Andrews Force Base.  Realizing I was about to be in a class with strangers I began to panic.  I wound up sitting poolside. 

I had the same anxiety on the first day of class at new schools.  When the car stopped at the curb, I longed to turn around and go back home.  I felt lost and clumsy, until I learned my routes—from the front doors to my home room, from there to the lunch room, from the lunch room to art class, from art class to my locker and so on.  When I could repeat the obstacle course I began to feel competent.

No one likes to be the beginner.  So, we learn to do something one way and we stick to it.  The problem is that when competence goes stale and we are reluctant to try new things.  We don’t trust ourselves.  Ultimately we lose touch with the originality within us.

There is struggle involved in learning a new activity.  So, we put energy into achieving a level of competence in the new skill, and we repeat the process until we get very good at replication.  Competence is the ability to do something well.  The opposite, of course, is incompetence, and we loathe incompetence, don’t we?

As long as I stayed the course, I had no shot at learning more about the school.  Business cultures that get so good at doing something one way have leaders that resist change and will tell you, “This is the way we’ve always done it.”  And, they often miss creating the future for the company.

My first experience with public speaking was a speech class in college, back in the late 70s.    The professor assigned us random topics to research and had us speak to the class for 15 minutes.  I hated the churning and the breathiness—the sweaty palms and the palpitations.  I weathered speech class by learning to memorize every word of my script.  I became a competent presenter, focusing on the “how to” and not the reason or the result.  It was many years later when I realized that having a real conversation with listeners meant unlearning my old formula for success, taking a risk and allowing a connection to happen.

Stale reruns of presentation skills are a part of unconscious Sophisticated Bull.  Being the center of attention and looking bad is the stuff of our nightmares.  It’s fine for a youngster to wobble when learning to ride a bike.  We don’t ridicule “Hey—that kid needs training wheels!” But adults often forbid themselves to return to the place of innocent and natural learning.  We stay safe and increasingly inauthentic.

  If you desire authenticity as a speaker, trust yourself.  Be willing to break down the act of replication.  If you’re giving safe presentations, there is no brilliance, only competence.  That is not to say you aren’t using competent skills—but you can become robotic if you stop digging and risking.  More next week.

It’s easy to forget how powerful silence can be.

We are all so busy we can hardly stand in line for a latte without talking. And then we talk on cell phones as we walk to and from the car. It is so noisy all of the time, and there’s something being said all of the time.

Pausing for a second or two of silence is a deceptively easy act. Many of us are uncomfortable with silence and would prefer to hear ourselves talk.

Silence doesn’t come easy when we stand to speak, either. As soon as we feel the impact of adrenaline, it seems easier to talk nonstop. Yet silence communicates confidence and thoughtfulness. Speaking is about dynamic energy. Pausing creates magnetic energy.

Ronald Reagan was admired as a communicator in part because his words were so richly paced, and he was so comfortable with silence that he drew listeners to him. Reagan knew what you don’t say is loaded with meaning. Silence allows a presenter to be in an intimate connection with the audience.

Speakers who talk nonstop actually create stress for listeners who are trying to keep up. The more self-conscious the speaker, the less he or she will pause.

When adrenaline has its way, you begin to take shallow breaths. You don’t project well, and you sit down wondering what in the world you just said. Learning to pause is no less than transformational.

Here are some of the many benefits of silence:

1. Audience understanding. A pause tells listeners, “new paragraph” or “transition.” Listeners can’t just sponge up the spoken word without pausing to assimilate.

2. Thoughtfulness. Silence invites listeners to experience thoughtfulness. If you reflect on what you’ve just said, we will as well. Don’t say something profound and jump to the next thought. We’ll miss it all together.

3. Breathing. Oxygen cures most ailments of the self-conscious speaker. A breath of air will calm you, keep your brain from shutting down and allow your voice to project. If you do not pause, you cannot breathe properly.

4. Trust. First, trust that you have something important to say. Trust even more that pausing will give you access to your own authenticity. Listeners will trust that your words come from the heart.

5. Clarity without clutter. The hidden power of the intentional pause lies in the counteraction of unnecessary nonwords. Under the stress of adrenaline, many of us “um” it up. Pausing will eliminate the bulk of nonwords.

6. Emphasis. If you want listeners to take special note of a point you’re about to make, pause before you say it. If you want to emphasize something you’ve said, pause and say it again.

7. Creativity. Harvard professor Howard Gardner argues that five minutes of thoughtful reflection in the morning will contribute to your level of creativity throughout the day. If you feel you’re too busy to pause for five minutes, all the more reason to pause for five minutes.

8. Confidence. If you learn to make a connection with your audience in a moment of silence, you can relax into a real conversation. Listeners will relax when they see that you are confident and comfortable with silence.

9. Listening. Learn to slow down and listen to yourself and to others. Instead of jumping into a conversation at every opportunity to match insights, allow natural stops that invite others to comment.

The willingness to be silent is attractive, and it empowers the other person to fully express. Will Rogers said it best: “Never miss a good chance to shut up.”

I heard former CBS news anchor Dan Rather speak in the 1990s. I was disappointed. He read from a perfectly worded script for 15 minutes, saying all the right things and thanking all the right people.

Coming out of the Nixon era, I chose journalism as my major in college. I followed reporters such as Rather. He was a White House correspondent in the 1970s and stuck his neck out covering the Watergate scandal.

When he closed his notebook on his prepared remarks, I was wondering why I had come. But about that time, his energy shifted. He stepped out from the lectern and began taking questions.

Suddenly he was having a real conversation with us. I was hearing what I came for — stories about covering the JFK assassination. That day in Dallas. The first live news coverage of such magnitude. Walter Cronkite having difficulty keeping it together on air.

We were connected — all of us in the audience and Rather.

So often, when we speak to a group, we try to be perfect. We focus on the words. We burden ourselves with a big script and the idea that we must be an expert who knows everything.

That approach is exhausting. Perfection is not human — it’s creepy and anything but trustworthy.

What happens when speakers let you see the side of them that is human? You connect.

Here’s the real question: Can you speak to a group and just be yourself? Can you talk to us about things that matter and let your humanness show? Can you be authentic?  Your experience with winning, losing and learning are the most interesting things about you.

No matter what your age or title, no one else is qualified to speak about your experience but you. Inexperienced speakers are often the most authentic.

I met NASCAR Busch series driver John Freeman Jr. in the spring of his senior year in high school. He came through one of my company’s courses with people who were twice his age, yet he was completely comfortable in his own skin.

We asked each participant in the course to bring in an item that represented a meaningful story. Freeman brought a charred driver’s glove. He told us a story about the first time he drove a new car in a new series. He was just testing the car but found himself running in second place.

Toward the end of the race, Freeman began to feel warm. He knew the car was on fire, but he kept running. He could feel his shoes melting, but he kept running.

With the race under a caution flag, the wind stopped blowing through his car and the vehicle was engulfed in flames. Freeman unbuckled his harness and leapt from the car unharmed.

His crew ran out to him and pushed the car into the infield. They sawed off parts of the vehicle’s body and got it ready to run a couple of more laps just so their driver could earn points for finishing the race.

“That was the plan,” Freeman told us, “but I had so much adrenaline from being on fire, I went back to the field from 23rd (place), took the lead on the final lap and won the race. I was pushing with everything I had.”

No one but John Freeman Jr. could have told that story.

“After the race, the car was so black, you couldn’t see the sponsor logos,” he said. “But that win was really meaningful to me. You can always win with a car that’s better than the rest. But to win on your own, pushing with everything — that’s a win that’s pure.”

As he said that, he created a unique moment.

So often, when we make a presentation, we go into a jailhouse of self-consciousness. We think our experience is not enough. We strive to say the right thing and to be the perfect version of ourselves. But perfection does not play to authentic communication and your ability to connect with listeners.

If your talk is controlled and technically perfect, you may put everyone to sleep. If you fumble here and there and forget your place, but speak from the heart, your audience will be engaged.

—

AUTHENTIC SPEAKING:   QUICKINFO

Tell your story

§Don’t try to be perfect.

§Say what really matters.

§Share your mistakes.

§Talk about the pure wins.

A large troupe of improv artists recently pulled off a stunt at Grand Central Station. More than 200 people were scattered across the main concourse, bustling like busy New Yorkers when, at exactly the same time, they became frozen like manikins. For the duration of the five-minute stunt, commuters stopped in their tracks and became mesmerized by that suspension of time.

When things stop, we notice. When there’s a gap in the noise, we pay attention.

You have an opportunity to stop time as you step to the front of a room to speak. It is a crucial moment in which people perceive who you are. Here you can choose to stop, look people in the eye and make a connection before you open your mouth.

Or you can run to the front of the room, glance at the people nearest to you and hurry into the content. You can run your mouth through your entire presentation. With that approach, you can even do a so-so job.

But what if you’re interested in making a real connection through Authentic Speaking? You will do it by first learning to stop. In the crucial first moment, stop and look at the room. See the space. See your relation to the space. Look people in the eye.

Researchers have found that people begin to form a first impression of us within a matter of seconds, and most of the information about our sincerity and authenticity comes from our eyes, faces, body language and attitude — not the actual words we say.

Eye contact is a form of silent communication that has no rival. But many of us have fallen into the habit of diverting our eyes as though are we always on a crowded sidewalk.

Most people assume they have pretty good eye contact, but they actually look around the room like a pinball, bouncing off one person to the next. Or they sweep the room from side to side — attempting to see everybody at one time.

When you stop and hold the gaze of one person at a time for just seconds, you create a personal closeness that makes people want to stop and pay attention. This takes practice. Begin by noticing how you make eye contact throughout the day — at work or at the grocery. Do you really look people in the eye?

Ronald Reagan said, “If you talk to everybody, you talk to nobody, but if you talk to one person, you talk to everybody.”

Stop, look and listen. Once you’ve stopped in the first crucial moment, don’t simply begin to talk — begin to listen. Start an authentic conversation with the audience, and create places where the audience can respond.

The best news about listening to your audience is that in order to do it, you have to stop obsessing about yourself. The best advice for the self-conscious speaker is to focus on transmitting a message of value to the listeners.

When you do that, the audience can feel the focus and will return in kind. It’s a dynamic of mutual admiration. Together you create a medium of communication that is highly effective.

You “listen” by knowing who you’re talking to, showing up with a relevant message, asking questions, giving listeners time to have a dialogue with one another and conducting an honest Q&A session. Before you rush to answer a question, listen. Consider closely what is being asked. Let people know you value their time and their opinions.

There are many moments worth stopping for in a given day. Not only when we give a presentation, but also when we meet a friend at the coffeehouse or step into a small meeting — when we run into our neighbor on the sidewalk or an employee in the hall.

It’s easier to glance at the person before averting our eyes and moving by. Crucial moments of being truly receptive to others require courage. Courage, because it is hard to stop under pressure and look people in the eye. Crucial, because making an authentic connection in a human moment takes a bigger muscle than the one attached to our jawbone.

AUTHENTIC SPEAKING:  QUICKINFO

Make a connection

•Stop: When you step into the presence of the audience, stop and see the room. See your relation to the space.

•Look: Hold the gaze of one person at a time to create a personal closeness.

•Listen: Focus on transmitting a message of value to the listeners, and create places where the audience can respond.