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Lisa's |
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I’ve heard and absolutely believe that one of
the most feared and dreaded situations for most people to be faced with is
public speaking. I’m not exactly
sure WHY this task is so difficult for people to handle.
I suppose the number one answer to that question is that we fear ridicule
from our captured audiences. Those who habitually monopolize conversation amongst a
group of friends become timid and shy upon the very thought of giving an oral
presentation in a structured setting, particularly classroom style.
The otherwise wannabe centers of attention are immediately transformed
into shriveled wallflowers before our very eyes.
Public speaking doesn’t rattle my cage; it never has.
I was the kid in school who repeatedly volunteered to deliver my oral
presentations first. I refused to be a sitting duck, waiting for the teacher to
call my name like a newly drawn lottery number.
I began each lecture with a proud smile, knowing I had the nerve that my
classmates wished they had. I was
well-aware that they were one hundred times more concerned about reciting their
soon to be speeches than critiquing mine. After
my few minutes of glory were over and done with, the tension contained within
the four walls could unquestionably be cut with a knife as the instructor moved
on to his or her choice of weak prey. I’ve shared several articles and quite a bit of poetry
aloud during numerous meetings held at various locations over the past few
years. I thoroughly enjoy giving
the verbal presentations as much as preparing the written content.
When I’m in the fleeting spotlight, I am alive, energetic, and
purposeful. It mirrors the person I
am while engulfed in writing. The unpleasant aspect about standing in front of people whom
I know are listening intently, or at least pretending to, is when it’s time
for me to once again be seated. I
can’t help but be left with an unfinished feeling, although my intended
message has been read in its entirety. It’s
understandably difficult letting go of something that radiates passion we
can’t be certain of beholding in the exact same way ever again. It is said for everything there is a time and a place.
And I also believe that for everyone there is at least one moment in a
distinctive domain. I think we each
dream, some of us in secrecy, of taking the floor and stealing the show
throughout our lives. Circumstances
mandating public speaking allow us moderate rehearsals of these opportunities,
they supply us those chances, if only temporary glimpses. However, a large segment of the general population feels
more than nervous hesitation; panic is the specific response that comes to mind.
A common piece of advice offered to those amateurs addressing a
receptive, or possibly not so receptive bunch, is to refrain from making eye
contact. Fixating solely on
inanimate objects is the divine answer; simply pretend no one’s out there.
In other words, ignore the highly visible humanity by looking any other
way. I totally disagree.
This “blocking out” suggestion labels the designated listeners as
automatic enemies to be avoided; they are dismissed as irrelevant.
Imagine that, attempting to reach out to others while trying not to
acknowledge their presence at the same time.
That’s a direct contradiction if ever I heard one.
And it seems like a nonsensical way of somehow altering a reality that in
essence is a fairly simple task; we’re the ones who’ve created, fed and
nurtured this manmade monster. Now, let’s put this unruly animal on a sturdy leash
and take control. Battle the beast
successfully and rightful victory will be claimed. Go ahead, grab those destructive horns and stare that ugly
monster straight in the eye. Your voice will clearly be heard.
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