Presentation Panic: what to do when we get lost on stage
This morning I took my dog on a walk in the woods. A place I’d never been. At some point I realized I was lost. I went around a bend, hoping to see a familiar landmark, but found a whole new path. I knew exactly what I needed to do next: panic. My heart started racing. My voice went up an octave, “It’s OK, Harpo, we’ll make it home…” My eyes darted here and there. I started running through the wet, tick-infested poison ivy.
Rounding the corner, I came across a big log to sit on with a sign reading, “Breathe. Listen.” I stopped. Looked around for the wood nymph, Puck, playing games with me. Then, I laughed and followed Puck’s wise advice. I sat down. I took a deep, fresh breath. I listened.
I heard the wind. A bird. And then soft voices. And a car. Aha! That way!
This is exactly what I say to clients when they get lost on stage.
Breathe. Listen. The way home will become apparent.
This is what I practice with my clients:
IN REHEARSAL: Practice getting lost and finding our way.
We rehearse our talk out-loud and when we get lost, let ourselves struggle, flounder, do not ask for help. Figure it out. Look for clues. Breathe. Listen. It’s a rehearsal after all! The more times we struggle and then find our way in rehearsal, the stronger the neural bridges, transitions, and connections become.
IN PERFORMANCE:
BREATHE Breathe, pause, take in the audience. They are your purpose and comrades. They are with you. It’s OK.
PARAPHRASE Paraphrase the last thing we just said. That’s right, repeat it in a new way. This often brings us right back into the flow of the story.
SAFETY NET Refer to our safety net if we have one (see Safety Net post here).
ASK FOR HELP Ask for help from a coach, co-presenter, organizer of the event. Really, it’s OK to ask for help. The audience is with you. They want you to succeed even more desperately than you do!
ENGAGE THE AUDIENCE FOR HELP Ask for help from audience. Yes, if all else fails, ask the audience, “What was I saying? Where did I leave off? What might come next?” Believe me, this presentation will be the only one they remember. And probably their absolute favorite. This is gold. Love it.
START AGAIN Start all over from the top. It is our talk. And the audience deserves our best work.
Years ago I was at a dance performance at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. The piece was pretty good, though I was not immediately pulled in the way I had expected. Something seemed off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the movement seemed vague and disjointed. We continued to watch with a growing feeling of detachment. The dance felt heavy and dull. About 20 minutes in, a tall figure rose up a few rows before me. His sonorous voice filled the hall. “Stop! This isn’t right. We’re starting again.” Bill T. Jones then turned to face us. “The music isn’t synching. It isn’t right. We’re starting again.” Notice there was no apology. The integrity of the art demanded to begin again. The entire performance ended and began a few minutes later at the top. Still/Here was miraculous.
Leaving the theater, I joined the throng of people heading towards the subway. We were silent and bound, knowing we had witnessed together a rare and beautiful moment.
For the audience, we may begin again.