A few weeks back, Karen Martin authored a post for her blog entitled, “How to capture an audiences attention” in which she gave several good tips for remembering your audience and delivering a strong presentation.
Inspired by Karen’s post and a recent chance to address the MassBay PMI chapter (a presentation for which I give myself a B+) I’d like to add another, useful tip to all those would-be speakers out there:
Don’t rely on your presentation to capture the audience, rely on your ability to present.
By presentation, of course I mean PowerPoint decks or other visual aids. Quite frankly, unless you have something technically complex that can only be understood with a graphical depiction, or you have something uproariously hilarious that can only project its humor when seen, then you really don’t need slides at all.
Yes, perhaps decorum necessitates that you have them, but you really shouldn’t need them. You really ought to be so utterly devoted to your topic that you can carry the audience without relying upon the screen. Take a look at many of the TED talks – there’s just a passionate person talking, not a smart instructor elaborating on words most of the audience can already read.
My short speaking experience is already telling me – don’t even think about opening that PowerPoint file until after you have perfected what you will say and how you will say it. Else, the slides will guide you. You need to develop that perfect ability to deliver your topic to the room first. Then, if you must, craft a few slides around it.
Those of you who follow this blog regularly…yes, both of you….are well aware that I haven’t done much with the blog for a while. In fact, I haven’t done anything in over two months. Let’s just say, life’s been busy.
My older son, not yet 8 years old, has had an intestinal problem that, while temporary, is difficult and a lot to deal with. He’s also had problems with kids and teachers at school socially, and self-esteem and confidence and just plain belief in himself have all taken massive hits. We’re working through all of that and it sure isn’t easy.
My P.o.S. car died, necessitating finding a newer, cheap slightly less P.o.S. to run around in for a while, straining the family budgets.
I was enrolled in a Project Management Professional class, which concluded in November and I had the exam date set for December 9th
The usual Holiday time running around that will make anyone crazy.
So, there’s been a lot going on and, truth be told, I had lost a whole lot of enthusiasm with the blog. It wasn’t scratching the itch anymore personally, and I was at something of a crossroads professionally – which was brought to a head by the PMP prep course. You see, for all my affinity for Lean and Operational Excellence as the foundations for improving the workplace, and life, my experience with them has primarily been intellectual. My professional day job resists Lean thinking significantly, and gives me little opportunity to practice. The vast majority of my professional background is in project management and, as I contemplate career moves, I simply don’t have enough resume fodder to get where I want to go by using Lean as my primary driver. This realization, more than anything else, led to my absence from the blogosphere for a while.
Truth be told, I had no idea where I was going with this thing, and although I didn’t want to give up, it seemed I had no ability to move from where I was. I felt like a ship, stranded at low tide.
During this time, however, there were a number of positives occurring that began to set the stage for better things. First and foremost, I was contacted by an acquaintance with an entrepreneurial opportunity. While it is challenging to find the time to work on that endeavor, it’s remarkably interesting and, if the idea comes to fruition, it is potentially quite lucrative. Being a part of concept development in the early phases of a start up endeavor is incredibly satisfying. As a part of that opportunity, I created my own LLC. I’m not exactly certain where that is going, (it will be some sort of speaking or writing of articles kind of thing), however, contemplating what I can do with it is also a great project. Here’s my logo and banner:
I’m not a wizard with the graphics just yet, so cut me some slack as I work those things out. Nonetheless, I think it’s going somewhere. I have a URL reserved for it and will be building out that site in the weeks/months ahead.
By the way, I did pass the PMP exam and I am now a certified Project Management Professional (I’ll have to update my profile). That designation appears to be opening doors already as I’ve had a couple good conversations with people in companies I am curious about already. What I do, and when I do it, are still up in the air – but the future is looking brighter. Additionally, just this past weekend, I was presented with a speaking opportunity out of the blue, which should give me a much-needed opportunity to help launch the LLC.
What all this reminds me of is that we very often don’t know where we’re going, or even how we got where we are, and when we hit these low times it tends to feel as if we’re going to be stuck there forever. What is most important to remember when things get this way, however, is that sometimes the best thing we can possible do for ourselves is to simply endure. Stay in the game, last as long as it takes, don’t back down and don’t get ahead. Just simply stand there against the things that attempt to pull you apart and prove out that you can last longer than the troubles that surround you. When you give up, you start down the long spiral ofnever feeling fulfilled. When you endure, you keep yourself prepared for better things.
So, it has been nearly 2 weeks since I’ve post to the blog. Some times, inspiration is simply hard to find.
Other times, your mother-in-law takes your wife and 2 sons off on a trip and you get a whole week to yourself. Such has been the case around here. As it typically goes when the family takes off on an adventure without me, the fist half of the week is grand and glorious. Napping, eating at crazy hours, sleeping at even crazier hours and, of course, the chance to knock some long overdue projects off the list. The second half of the week, however, gets to be downright boring and lonely.
In the midst of the boring and lonely part, I needed to pick up my car from the mechanic’s this weekend (having it serviced was one of those projects that is much more convenient when only one car is needed for the week). The shop is a bit of a walk – about 40 minutes, but not too bad once you get going. While I could have easily called a neighbor or a friend for help, I simply felt like getting the exercise, so I hoofed it through the neighborhood and cut through a field to get to the shop, picked up the car, and drove home.
That, of course, is not much of a story. But it did lead to an interesting observation.
What did strike me about 2/3 of the way there, however, is the thought – “Why in the hell didn’t I just ride my bike??”
Seriously, I should have. The car I was going to pick up is an SUV. There’s plenty of room for the bike once I get there. It would have saved about half the time, at least, and still afforded plenty of good exercise. Especially since I made the trek early in the morning when there was little traffic to worry about, too. Of course, I could rationalize and say the exercise was great, or the slow pace was cathartic, or whatever else we all tell ourselves when we haven’t though through all our options only to realize later that there was a better way to go about our business.
And that’s the point when it comes to trying to understand how and why we all do, what we do. Habit tells me that to get places without my car means I have to walk. If I rode my bike more often, the thought to get on the bike and ride down to the mechanic’s shop would have been as natural as the thought that tells me I have to put on shoes before I go out the door most mornings. Also, I could say, if I’d developed a better habit of stopping and thinking…to weigh alternatives….before doing….then I would have realized I didn’t need to hike all the way down to the shop. I might still have wanted to, but I would not have needed to.
So, in a way, my habits let me down. It makes you wonder how many other things we prevent ourselves form consciously choosing because we are unconsciously eliminating possibilities. When habits rule, the likelihood of seeing other options simply diminishes.
It might even get you left all along on the roadside.
Last week, I celebrated my 39th birthday. There was not a lot of fanfare, in part because as we get older, birthdays aren’t big events anymore (and certainly not those that aren’t evenly divided by 5) and partly because my three year-old’s birthday is just 2 days later.
Nonethless, it provides an opportunity for stepping outside of myself and looking at the situation. Forty is one of those milestone birthdays. Your life, for all intents and purposes, is roughly half over (and probably a little more than half). That sobering thought causes a sense of both pride and depression at the same time. Proud for what I have accomplished, sad for what I have not – and never will. But that is normal.
Life, you come to realize, is about ups and downs and acceptance. Accepting your lot, your limitations, your skills and your blessings. No matter how many blessings, of course, we end up focusing on the limitations. — “If only I’d been born rich, or smarter, or taken that class, or not taken that class, or gone on a trip or asked whats-her-name to dance in the 7th grade.” Of course, after picking our lives apart and beating ourselves up for a while, we re-focus on those things that are really important – our blessings.
Our children might be struggling at school, or with making friends, or with making friends at school – but they are healthy and happy and none of their problems are all that unusual. If your children do have serious problems, you might feel sad but then realize that you are learning something about bringing patience, joy & strength to a situation no matter how difficult it becomes. Our careers might be far from what we’d imagined, but even that is usually the outcome of other decisions that had some unintended consequences – so we really can’t blame ourselves for that, either, so we remember to focus on the fact that we’re at least still gainfully employed.
So, with this milestone event looming before me, I am discovering that I have learned two things. The first is that there’s a remarkable resliency to life. No matter how disappointing things become, hopes for something better always re-emerge. Sometimes, that hope might do more harm than good (we never seem to know how to quit when we’re ahead) but it’s always there. It’s an unavoidable fact – everything that goes down eventually comes back up, and back down again, and back up once more.
Getting older, however, is a bit of a bittersweet phenomenon, nonetheless. We realize how much we’ve accomplished and how much wisdom we’ve gained, and we look forward to our opportunities to both apply thins wisdom and share it, and to gain even more as we go about our lives until the end of our days. But that’s where the bitter part comes in – that we will have an end to our days, and it’s getting ever closer. But – remembering to think about the good things – we realize it’s been a good life and, afterall, we’re just playing our part in the best way that we can.
Which reminds me that the second thing I’ve learned is an even greater certainty than the first: That the best thing about pushing forty is that at least I’m not pulling it.
Another year, another family vacation in the books. This year, we returned to the Point Sebago Resort in Casco, Maine for the third year in a row. The weather was fantastic, the boys had a good time, and the parents weren’t completely exhausted at the end of it all.
Sebago Lake in Maine is a fairly large lake. Having grown up in Buffalo, NY on Lake Erie, I am forever spoiled by the massive size of the Great Lakes when it comes to comparing bodies of fresh water. Nonetheless, I can appreciate the size and depth of Sebago Lake, which covers 45 square miles and reaches a depth of over 300 feet.
In spite of that size, however, neither Sebago Lake, nor even the Great Lakes, could offer something I have felt whenever I journey to the coast and look out over the ocean. Something about standing before the endless, seemingly infinite expanse of the ocean has always been soothing. It is as if the endless, rhythmic droning of the waves and the inability to see across to the other side reminds me that I am small. More than that, that my problems are unbelievably tiny in the much grander scheme of things. The ocean reminds me that it can be beautiful, calming, calamitous, treacherous and angry all at once, and that in all its nearly timeless eternity – it is absolutely unconcerned with anything that will ever transpire in my life.
Some might find this depressing – to be confronted with the undeniable fact that their existence will simply not matter to something so grand and ageless. To me, however, it is a place of catharsis and solace. It puts the things that trouble my mind into perspective, and that alone allows me to put my worries and fears and all my earthly concerns aside, and regain an appreciation for the important parts of my existence.
You see, while something as nearly incomprehensible and massive as the enormity and timelessness of the oceans will never be concerned with my short time upon this earth, the people that I encounter and share my life with will…..and that is where my focus should always be – on the people who share my life. Inanimate things like money, cars, houses, wristwatches, sunglasses, comfortable chairs and cell phones and, yes, even something as great and grand as the ocean, will never notice my existence no matter how much time I spend with them.
Human beings, however, can be affected greatly and remember you to the end of their days, for things that occur even just once in a passing moment. What’s more – the more you interact and share with them, the greater the likelihood of being remembered, and transcending into a place where the memory of your life becomes as infinite as the ocean itself.