Create a New "Normal"

During my corporate career, I took a course in public speaking. This particular program was designed for business executives who wanted to sharpen their presentation skills and overcome their inner impediments to speaking in front of large audiences. There were twelve of us in the class, an intense seminar taught over the course of three days.

In addition to offering tips on how to compose the message of a speech or presentation, the curriculum spent equal time working with the physical aspects of speaking -- how to make eye contact with your audience and other aspects of voice and gesture that each of us uses to engage people with our physical presence.

Over the three days, each participant had to make six different presentations to the group, some assigned by the instructor and some of our own choosing. All of the presentations were videotaped. The way things worked in the class was that each of us could screen the videos of our own presentations privately or with the instructor. An interesting twist was that the sixth and final one was shown, not in private, but in front of the whole group.

Have you ever seen yourself on tape? It’s a really powerful thing. Looking in the mirror is not the same. When we look in the mirror, we see what we want to see. This hair out of place, this smile suited for the world we’re about to encounter. We pose before the mirror in still images. Film or video is a lot different. We don’t pose. We can’t see ourselves. We are not still. We don’t have control of every moment, every movement, every piece of body language we express. What the camera records of this, our dance with the moment, when seen in replay, is very revealing.

We could view, freeze and rewind our tapes, in order to glean nuggets of feedback of the good, bad and embarrassing from our performances. It was enormously powerful for me to see how I paced during parts of my speech: how I tilted my head; how I contorted my mouth in making a point; how my nervous ticks and tension expressed themselves without my even knowing it at the time. These viewing sessions were extremely beneficial in helping me correct some of these things and I could see and feel the improvements in my later presentations.

There was one man in the class, around 45 years old, a finance executive for a major corporation. He was nice-looking, very buttoned-down. You could tell he was smart and articulate, but his first presentation was almost painful to watch. His body language was stiff. His arms and hands didn’t move. Even his face was stone-like, his mouth barely opening to allow words to escape through his lips. It was hard to focus on what he was saying because the words came out so stilted.

Now, I don’t mean to dwell on this man’s poor performance in order to cast stones. Indeed, my own house is made of glass. But, I learned a powerful lesson through witnessing his experience in the class. It was impressive to see the willingness with which he took criticism and feedback from the instructor and from other members of the group, integrating the bits of feedback to gradually improve each successive presentation. It was like watching ice melting. His manner became more relaxed, his body was more fluid, his face more expressive. His voice even sounded more distinctive.

As we all watched the video of his final presentation, it was obvious that this man had worked hard to break through the box that constituted his comfort zone. His presence was bold, his body was animated--arms moving, hands gesturing, torso turning, feet stepping, face alive, eyes expressive, voice modulated.

It was inspiring to see an example of how someone can change their deeply ingrained behavior by bringing awareness and intention to it. But, what was really remarkable was the man’s reaction as he viewed the tape of his own performance. He squirmed in his seat as he watched, clearly uncomfortable. While the tape ran, he told the group how uncomfortable he had been while making the presentation because he felt he was “way out there,” speaking too loudly, gesticulating too wildly, walking around too much. “Over-the-top-crazy,” was the way he described how this experience felt to him.

What was truly amazing, however, was that on the tape he appeared to be a normal person delivering a speech. What felt to him as wild and crazy and out of control while he was doing it appeared, in the replay, to be rather normal.

I always remember that incident when I am attempting to do something outside of my comfort zone. It reminds me of three things: 1) Each of us can stretch beyond our own personal comfort zone, 2) Going beyond your comfort zone is, well, uncomfortable and 3) One person’s “normal” is another person’s “stretch”. So that, when I think I’m really going over the top with something—an ambitious action in my business or personal life—I’ll check with someone else. Chances are that it isn’t all that crazy. I’m learning that when I feel uncomfortable, it’s just about right.

Unlike rubber bands, that snap back to their original size and shape when stretched, stretching beyond our comfort zone seems to stick. And the more we live from that new, expanded place within us, the more comfortable it feels.

Like a new normal.