Presentation Zen [57]
The goal, then, is to move away from the calculating self, the self that lives in a world of scarcity, exaggerated threats, and deficiencies, and move toward a healthier attitude of sufficiency, wholeness, and possibilities. Getting over yourself—and humor is a great vehicle for this—allows you to see the “creative nature of the world and ourselves.” When you understand what an infant can’t—that is, you cannot control the world, you cannot impose your will on people’s hearts—you begin to get over yourself. When you learn to lighten up, you see yourself as permeable, not vulnerable, says Mrs. Zander, and you stay open to the unknown and to new influences, new ideas. Rather than trying to resist and fight the river of life, you move through it with a harmonious fluidity and grace, learning to join rather than resist the flow. Humor is a wonderful way to remind everyone around us—no matter how hard the work gets—that our true and most “central” self is not obsessed with childish demands, entitlements, and calculations but is instead supportive, confident, helpful, and even inspiring. A presentation is as good a time as any to let people see that side of you.
In Sum
• Like a conversation, presentation requires your full presence at that time and place.
• Like a master swordsman, you must be completely in the moment without thoughts of the past or the future, or of “winning” and “losing.”
• Mistakes may happen, but do not dwell on past mistakes or worry about future ones. Be only in this moment, sharing and conversing with the audience in front of you.
• You will make it look easy and natural by preparing and practicing like mad. The more you rehearse, the more confident you’ll become, and the easier it will seem to the audience.
• Though you must plan well, being fully in the moment also means that you remain flexible, totally aware, and open to the possibilities as they arise.
Chapter 9
Connecting with an Audience
Most of what I have learned about communication and connection did not come from my speech and communication classes in school, it came from my experience as a performer and from years of closely watching others perform. I worked my way through college playing drums in various jazz groups beginning when I was 17. I don’t care how technically “good” the music is, I have never seen a great performance that lacked a solid connection between the performer and the audience.
Playing music is a performance and also very much a presentation. Good presentations are about conversing, sharing, and connecting at an intellectual and emotional level in an honest and sincere way. It doesn’t get much more honest than jazz (which has been called “the music of dialogue”). It is even easier to connect when playing music since everything is laid right out there in front for everyone to see and hear. There are no politics and no walls. The music may touch the audience or it may not, but there is never even the hint of insincerity, questionable motives, or of being anything other than what people see before them at that moment. The smiles, the heads nodding in agreement, and the feet tapping under the tables tell me that there is a connection, and that connection is no less than communication. It’s a fantastic feeling.
Tom Grant, based in Portland, Oregon, is a musical legend in the U.S. Pacific Northwest, and you can buy his albums or hear his songs on jazz and soft jazz stations around the world (including here in Japan). Tom’s a great musician, but what I always liked about his live performances were his warmth and his friendly, engaging style that just made the connection with the audience so much better.
The lesson I’ve learned from watching great musical performances live is that the music plus the artists’ ability to convey their (musical) message and connect with the audience