Conquering the Greatest Fear
There are many rankings of fears. Most articles
on the subjects rank the greatest fears as follows:
1.
Fear of public speaking;
2.
Fear of flying;
3.
Fear of death.
If, indeed, fear of
public speaking is your greatest fear, let’s hope that you will not be
asked to speak at a funeral. Presumably, you’d prefer to be in the
coffin rather than at the microphone.
Fear of flying is an uninformed fear. You are
actually safer in a Boeing 747 than in your own living room, if we are
to believe the accident statistics for airplanes and homes. The trip to
the airport is likely to be the most hazardous part of your travel.
For most people,
fear of death is a distant fear. When I had major surgery a couple of
years ago, I found the fear to be there, but manageable. Death, when it
comes, is likely to be more merciful than we imagine.
Fear of public
speaking is something else entirely. I’ve always suffered from it, and
I once even talked to a doctor about it. He listened patiently to me
talk about what, in his mind, probably was “stage fright,” and then
declared, “Some people are race horses, and some people are turtles.
You’re a race horse; get used to it!”
At my very first
serious speaking engagement (as president of my graduating class in high
school) to thousands of people, I was so nervous that I was throwing up
inside of a protective circle of classmates who probably wondered
whether I were drunk or needed to be whisked away to the E.R. Neither
applied to me, and I somehow came to grips with my fear on that day, and
delivered the speech as planned.
If someone had told
me at that time that my life would be devoted to giving thousands of
speeches, lectures and seminars, I would have laughed out loud, although
my speaking debut was considered acceptable by the good-natured and
supportive citizens of my hometown.
So, I decided to
try to follow the advice of the good doctor. The first time I actually
saw a horse race, I got his point. None of horses looked sick, but they
did not seem very calm, either, as they waited at the starting gate. But
you had a feeling that they all wanted to be there. That feeling looked
to be a mixture of stress and satisfaction — call it excitement. Could I
substitute excitement for fear?
I have appeared in
front of a very large number of people, if you count radio and
television audiences. Almost everyone who has ever seen or heard me
will say that I appear to be calm and composed, albeit a little bit on
edge. How did that happen?
This is how it
happened:
I started by
reading dozens of articles on public speaking. Imagining that the
audience is naked was one piece of silly advice offered — that would
probably make me throw up, I concluded, having been on a nudist beach
once. Preparation? Well, yes . . . but the stress is still there.
Take major tranquilizers? Be serious; I have a job to do. |
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Going a little deeper into
the subject of stress management I found that here
are only three ways to lower stress:
1.
Remove the source of stress;
2.
Increase your tolerance to stress;
3.
Put yourself in a situation that is
incompatible with stress.
That’s it. There
are no other ways to reduce stress.
Of course, the
American way is to confront stress. Very often that
means transferring your stress to others. If you
do, I seriously doubt whether they will enjoy it.
The Scandinavian way
is to do nothing—Scandinavians tend to be conflict
avoiders. Now something or someone else has control
over your stress. Not so good.
As for removing the
source of stress: Well, the source of the stress
is the public speech.
I want to be able to
do them.
Increase your
tolerance to stress: Well, yes! Anything that you
do often and well does become less stressful
over time. Every politician knows this.
Put yourself in a
situation that is incompatible with stress: That is
the art of stress management, and this
approach largely explains how I prefer to deal with
it.
I learned that
stress can be manageable and even advantageous,
depending upon how you choose to think about it.
I remember my first visit to Canterbury Downs. It
is true that the horses in the paddock seemed
stressed — even agitated — but once the starting
gate opened, it was clear that they loved to race!
In fact, my learned race track companion had picked
a horse to win in one race by concluding that this
particular horse seemed to handle the stress far
better than did the others. That horse indeed
turned out to be the winner.
If you love
to do something stressful, the stress you feel is
called eustress, and it is not likely to harm
you. In fact, you’ll be better off for it.
Eustress means good stress. I love my work,
stressful though it might be at times. I always try
to meet the expectations people have for me, so much
of my stress is self imposed. How to overcome this
good stress?
The doctor said I
was a race horse. So be it. I shall love to race,
then! And that’s how I chose to think about public
speaking. There may be better ways to think about
it, but this way works for me. I always welcome
advice from wise doctors.
Whenever I give a
speech or public presentation, I walk up to the
rostrum feeling the prickly tension of someone about
to start a race. I don’t fight it; I embrace it.
I’m always as prepared as I can be. I can’t wait to
start.
I know that the race
will soon be over.
And I don’t really
worry about winning or losing.
For in this race,
I’m the only one racing.
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