A new chapter

As I write this, I am on the cusp of my birthday. A big year for me. My book is to ship on that day, as well. It’s my dream, that magical, mystical moment I’ve been envisioning for nearly my entire life. It’s taken a long time to get here, but I have no doubt it has come at precisely the moment it was meant to.

And yet, what should have been one of the best seasons of my life has, in fact, been pretty rough. In the past months, I’ve gotten myself so stressed I’ve made myself physically ill. To the point of several doctors’ visits, one unexpected emergency procedure and several tests at the hospital. And guess what? I’m fine. It seems I’ve just been such a bundle of stress, my body rebelled. But some good, much good, actually, did come of it. Knowing I had to overcome my fear of public speaking, I did what any seasoned journalist would do, I went into research mode. And I learned plenty.

First, I’m not alone. Far from it. It seems performance anxiety is the most common phobia in the U.S. Someone mentioned it is second only to death. In my case, I’m not sure that was true.

I learned from reading Amy Cuddy’s “Presence, Bringing your BOLDEST SELF to your BIGGEST CHALLENGES” that resisting anxiety only makes it worse. But interpreting it not as a negative, but as a positive — excitement — can gradually help change stage fright to stage presence. It was Cuddy who introduced me to the idea that just as the body follows the mind, the mind will follow the body. So when you strike a powerful pose, when you expand your body, get bigger, your mind will believe you are powerful. You may recall I wrote earlier about a woman in this same book who taught her children when they were feeling timid to “starfish up.” Personally, I’m a little more comfortable with Wonder Woman, at least in public.

From Brene’ Brown, author of “Daring Greatly,” I learned about vulnerability. And I realized I have spent the better part of my life trying not to feel vulnerable and certainly not letting anyone see me feeling vulnerable. That brought me eventually to the understanding that the only way to grow is to be vulnerable. And that doesn’t happen in private.

By chance just days ago, I happened on a motivational talk by Fawn Germer. We both worked at the Rocky Mountain News, but at different times. Until now, our paths have never crossed, but we share mutual friends and one of them posted a video of her recent talk. I don’t usually click on those types of posts and yet on that day I did, and seeing it was like some minor cosmic miracle because pretty much every word out of her mouth seemed meant for me. One of the lines that stuck was something she learned from her Nobel prize-winning mentor: “You’ll never learn to fly if you won’t jump off the cliff.” (And we all know how I feel about cliffs)

Along with my research, I turned to friends. God bless my wonderful friends. There were the women who showed up on Wednesday afternoons to — I kid you not — join me at Moby Dick’s for karaoke. I had never done karaoke in my life. But here was another opportunity to get in front of people and yes, be, vulnerable. And guess what? I suck at karaoke, though as the leader of our group effort of “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’,” I didn’t do half bad. It has become one of my fondest memories of the summer.

Some of the advice I received may be slightly questionable. About reading to people, a friend from my hometown wrote: “I have experience there. I spent a lot of time sitting cross-legged on the bathroom floor reading to my kids while they focused on a productive potty experience. So just imagine your audience in potty training and you’ll be fine.”

I have one reading under my belt. I didn’t rock it, but I didn’t bomb, either.

And I have plenty of opportunity ahead to practice my new learned skills.

On Aug. 28 at 2 pm, the Newport Public Library is graciously allowing me to host the public launch of “Wander.” I hope you’ll join us. I can’t promise I’ll remember all the advice I’ve learned, but I do promise not to envision anyone in potty training.

Off the cliff I go.

 

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