Stretching the wings

Be free all worthy spirits, and stretch yourselves, for greatness and for height. 

George Chapman

(1559-1634)

It's 3am and here I am, either staring at the ceiling or surrendering to the whirring head and getting the thoughts out, in hope of then being able to rest. I've been doing the former since about 2, so now I'm trying the latter.

Yesterday I attended a much anticipated workshop with an expert in the field of public speaking. This guy is one of those global gurus who commands large sums and large, illustrious audiences. The sort of guy whose ilk I would normally not encounter. Through an amazing twist of fate though I found myself, along with a small group of my colleagues, being granted a few intensive hours of coaching with him - a real privilege. 

I had been warned that his methods could be radical. He comes from an operatic and theatrical background so I had visions of being pushed into some zones of discomfort. He has a great reputation for achieving results though and I am convinced by what I see in my own work and personal experience, that the stretch zone's where the best learning takes place. I was up for that. Scared witless. But up for it. 

Except it turns out that I really wasn't. As the day progressed, and I was asked first to sing alone and unaccompanied (completely tone deaf!) and then throw an invisible ball around the group whilst soundlessly and then accompanied by sound (not words) acting out extreme emotions like rage and sorrow and joy, I found that I was becoming increasingly ill at ease to the point of feeling physically ill. I fell at the hurdle of being asked to tap into my inner five year old on a summer's day and dance exuberantly through a sprinkler.... I could not do it. Of course, I could do it. Nothing physically preventing me from it. Intellectually, I understood why we were being asked to do it. I even remember being a five year old and dancing through a sprinkler on a summer's day. But I could not bring myself to do it. I would not do it. Instead, I almost threw up and had to retreat shortly afterwards to cry in the cloakroom for five minutes before returning to the group.

It was downhill for me from there. All the emotional barriers to learning came bouncing up to enclose me in a space that left almost no room to breathe, let alone sing. I felt embarrassed, humiliated (not by being asked to be silly but by my extreme reaction to it), guilty, disappointed and horribly inadequate. I went on to prepare and deliver my selected spoken piece as best I could but my whole heart wasn't in it and I felt I'd been relegated to the "not good enough" pile. The workshop was described as being about discovering one's authentic voice, which is "not about the voice itself but the story it has to tell and sharing that story for affect...". Apparently my authentic voice does not make the grade and does "not have the range to be extraordinary". My authentic self took a beating.

Reflecting on the experience I wonder what I learnt? We were reminded of the 1 degree shift principle (which says that even the tiniest change of course, extrapolated, can have a big impact over time), that flexibility is essential for those who wish to have the most influence, and that managing our inner state is crucial for outer congruence in communication - all of which I believe to be true. The feedback suggested that I have a calm, collected, compelling, and intimate style of delivery; that I'm very expressive and that my story draws people in and along with me and that there's warmth and sincerity and passion evident. All good. But that that's "not enough". That, amongst other things, I'm too controlled, lack resonance, and the ability to jump into the states and physical spaces that are required for the "extraordinary". That I probably won't be commanding large sums from large, illustrious audiences. Probably true. I'm processing all of this. It's valuable feedback and I need to consider what this means for me and what I do with it. This is no bad reflection on the guru - he's brilliant at what he does and I am in no doubt that he gets amazing results for some people. Just not for me. I have definitely learnt a lot from the experience though. That it was painful for me is not really his fault.

What I also learnt though is that I need to pick my stretch experiences more carefully. That putting one's self into a situation where nausea and fear overwhelm is more conducive to regression than progression and that right now, at a time when I'm standing on the brink of taking unaided flight into the unknown, I am at a place of vulnerability that I need to be slightly more aware and protective of. I need to be seeking ways of building my confidence and restoring my resilience and while that doesn't just mean placing myself in situations where only what I would like to hear is affirmed, I also need to be sensitive to how fragile and precarious a position my psyche is in. 

I believe there's a place for my voice yet. It might be quieter and less "extraordinary" than some but that's okay too. It doesn't want to command a large stage.  A small one, compellingly, would do me. Without resorting to a defensive cop-out, I can't help but feel that one man's authentic is another woman's acting, and that perhaps I am more of a supper club crooner than an opera diva?