Secret #9: Be Human

Do me a favor: Bring water with you when you speak. I don’t know why, but people seem to think that it’s a personal failure that the moisture in their mouth isn’t sufficient to support a lengthy discussion without re-hydration. Don’t we have enough to feel bad about without adding thirst? The fact is: It’s nearly impossible to concentrate on listening to someone suffering with cottonmouth, and the speaker is hopelessly distracted by it, as well.

Why should we interpret a basic biological (and predictable) need as a source of shame? It’s like being embarrassed about breathing. It’s 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:

A) Client (inner monologue): This is terrible! I couldn’t moisten a stamp for all the gold in Fort Knox! 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!

B) Client (inner monologue): My mouth feels a little dry. (sips water and continues)

It’s easy to see which option to choose. (B!) So let’s put this to bed. Drink water—as much as you need—when speaking.

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 attend our basic human needs, giving ourselves the best shot at meaningful communication, everyone wins.

Most of what can happen while speaking is predictable—verbal stumble, cough, burp, stomach gurgle—you get the idea. Instead of panicking, we can silently recognize, “My stomach just made a really strange noise,” say out loud, “Excuse me,” and simply carry on. If we keep from becoming frazzled and get back on track, the whole thing will likely be forgotten. Let’s agree to give these episodes exactly as much attention—and not one bit more—than they deserve.

If you’re thirsty, drink some water. If you need glasses, pause to put them on. Think ahead and use the restroom before you have to speak.

Seems reasonable, 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 an unattainable ideal.

There is no logic to wanting to be “perfect,” yet I am often confronted with highly intelligent clients who proudly admit, “I’m just a perfectionist—I’m never satisfied.” No wonder they’re frustrated—this standard dooms them to failure! Really, if there were such a thing as perfection in human behavior, athletes would stop when they reached that perfect point, and that would be it. No need to improve techniques, try harder, or attempt to break records. But there is no such point, so striving for perfection in this scenario is like entering a race that has no rules and no finish line. You can’t win.

You: There she goes again with the metaphors. Next she’ll be talking about cooking!

Why is it a chef continues to revamp a menu? Is it to approach “perfection” or to grow and evolve and discover new flavors and textures?

Maybe human perfection is an oxymoron because, if possible, it would be boring? Or maybe we’re all perfectly unique, with boundless possibilities? Maybe I’ve been watching too much Oprah? Regardless, we’re human and human performance is not measured by standards of perfection. Period.

I’m happy to report that perfection isn’t interesting anyway—at least watching people trying to attain it isn’t. “Perfectionists” spend most of their time either beating themselves up or turning their unreasonable judgment on others. If this sounds like you, do yourself and everyone around you a favor and knock it off.

Read the expanded post here.

You may also see the whole expanded blog here.

Secret #8: Find the Hook

The type of hook I’m introducing here has two barbs—it’s the thing that gets us interested in what we’re saying while also answering the listener’s question, “What’s in it for me?” Sometimes, if the first barb works, the second one snares the listener automatically—but don’t count on it! I have often been present when a speaker is highly engaged in his or her subject and I, the listener, am decidedly not.

At a recent cocktail party, a woman I barely knew cornered me and began a blow-by-blow of every agonizing step of her day. She was animated and interested in the subject, herself, ignorant that I was evaluating my chances at survival if I took a leap out of the nearby window. (It wasn’t a total loss. I did learn that even a “really good pooper” like her miniature schnauzer, Marty, can have an off day…) No quantity of Pinot Noir could make the story interesting to me—trust me, I tested this theory.

When the hook works for the speaker but not for the listener, rethinking is necessary.

Studying both the audience and the subject is the best way I’ve discovered to find a hook. Start with the basic purpose of the presentation and then take a closer look. Ask, “Why is this important to the listener?” “Why are they there?” “What do they stand to gain?” Advanced research is also a great way to get a good hook in deeper.

In Secret #5, I used my experience as a seminar presenter as an example of how to offer ideas as an act of generosity. I’ll admit it was a struggle for me to hook into that topic, notary law, in the beginning. But I realized these people needed me desperately (whether they knew it or not) to: a) solve an immediate problem (statutory requirement/exam preparation); or b) a larger, more long-term one (understanding the legal and administrative requirements and stay out of jail!).

The hook: I was sparing these people some serious trouble while giving them the information they needed to succeed. Thinking about that hook brought the presentation to life and gave me something to do with it all the way along. (My angle was conspiratorial—I was one of them and could save them from pitfalls I’d seen others experience.) I had a clear goal, the hook.

The hook is the promise we make to the listener and we must do our best to deliver on it.

As we prepare, we check, “Will this hook my listeners?” Our words then are not simply recitation, but part of an active process of set up and delivery. If my goal above was to arm my listeners with helpful tools and essential knowledge, I had something by which to measure my success each step of the way. I kept the hook (and angle) in mind as I spoke, and observed my listeners to make sure I hit my mark. If I wasn’t succeeding, I knew my material well enough to adjust 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! Have one? It’s OK with me if it’s not FDA approved.

Me: A major obstacle to doing this well is the bogus notion that it should be effortless. It’s isn’t. It takes energy. But it’s really rewarding!

Client: 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 takes energy, we stop shaming ourselves when it isn’t easy and get to work. OK, there are some people who 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 efforts as a result of hard work, and who enjoy those successes with great pride.

Here’s the bonus: When we offer 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.

Read the expanded post here.

You may also see the whole expanded blog here.

Secret #7: What's the Angle?

The angle we take on a subject is what makes it interesting to us. It's the point of view, or the perspective we offer to help shape our message and give it dimension. A well developed angle makes what we say more specific and compelling. It's the difference between, “Real estate sales are increasing,” and, “As panic over the economic crisis wanes, people again turn to real estate,” or “Cruising: A popular vacation option,” and, “Cruising: Strap on the Feedbag and Get Your Nap On!” (Maybe not that…)

We are inclined toward a point of view when we speak, so an angle may be apparent from the start. If not, we can ask ourselves, “Why am I the right person to talk about this?”

In lieu of a naturally occurring angle, understanding the needs of the listener will guide us to a good choice. For example, if giving a talk to seniors about unique events in their city, I might present from the angle that people often underestimate their abilities. I might divide activities into groups from more energetic to the relaxing. Same information—the events haven’t changed—now organized around a clear point of view.

You: I have to present the national quarterly earnings for Aunt May’s Bundt Cake. I’ve got a great idea! I’ll use this angle: 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? Assuming you’re right, you may do well to choose a more diplomatic angle—or you'll make an enemy out of Warren.

How provocative we want to be is another choice we have to make. Generally, the situation will tell us. The angle may be bold, unconventional, or a subtle shading. Even with a Dragnet (“just the facts”) report, there still may be room to angle.

Here’s a great example of how this works: My human biology professor’s lectures were so interesting due, in part, to his unique angle: What happens when things go wrong? He talked about his study of rare maladies in India. He spoke about the people and their conditions with respect, drawing a clear line between observation and judgment. He made it interesting by using this angle to show why the systems are so important to healthy development. It was standing room only for a required science class in a lecture hall that seats hundreds. Clearly, I wasn't alone in my appreciation of Dr. Swan's unique angle.

Conversely, I remember precisely nothing my astronomy professor said. (I had anticipated astronomy to be more interesting than biology.) He spoke with a flat affect, avoided anything that might suggest relevance, offered no insight, nothing that might suggest he was interested. There was no angle to his speaking and, as a result, not much teaching going on at all. He was uninvolved, uninspired and completely uninteresting. But other than that, a great guy.

The angle can have the power to make listeners rethink their assumptions on a subject. The angle and the hook (next secret) are interdependent and work together to make communication dynamic. They’re also both related to fishing, but that’s not important right now.

Read the expanded post here.

You may also see the whole expanded blog here.