Suppose you went to a workshop and the leader threw a balled-up sock on the floor about eight feet in front of you.
“Visualize the path to the sock, then close your eyes, walk to the sock and put your hand on it,” you are told.
Your fellow work-shoppers watch in silence as you move toward the sock, and miss it completely. You hear them laughing and open your eyes. It’s there by your left foot. And then it’s their turn, while you watch them.
At the end, only two people out of ten succeed in doing it.
The instructor asks, “Who really wanted to touch the sock?” Six hands go up. “Pathetic,” says the instructor.
“When you’re too goal-oriented, focused on succeeding, you’re preoccupied with being perfect. Perfect is boring,” says the instructor.
He goes on. “There’s no story in perfect. ‘She walked across the floor and touched the sock. The end.’”
“But if you walk right past it and bump into the wall, then turn back and search the carpet with your feet, give up and get down on your hands and knees to sweep your arms in front of you, or roll across the floor to maximize your sensory exposure to the bump of the sock against your skin, that would be a story we’d all be telling when we get home tonight.”
Actors do this for each other. They change their reading of their lines depending on how their scene partners deliver theirs.
Cabaret singers look for accidents so they can humanize themselves, and break through the imaginary wall that exists between performer and audience. For instance, a man spills a drink during one of her songs, and she pulls her handkerchief out of her bra and mops up the martini with it.
Performers are always looking for happy accidents like that. Your listeners will remember how you responded to the accident better than they’ll remember all your well-rehearsed and well-chosen words.
I just saw a client giving a live demonstration of web-based software to about 100 people when she lost her internet connection. She called up the technical people to the stage and kept right on going, even while we could see all the screens the techies were trying to fix the problem.
She got credit, not just for the content, but for the qualities of character she displayed in coping with the technical failure.
The lesson? Don’t be so afraid of problems or accidents on the presentation platform. Problems can bring out the best in you.
As Al Gore said, “…defeat might serve as well as victory to shape the soul and let the glory out.”