Not Enough Power in that Pose
Presence has a posture, and it’s the difference between how straight lines or angles affect the listener and the speaker. In my communication workshops, I take the idea of presence from vague to actionable. I pick someone to talk to and ask them, “what changes for you when I speak to you, and my spine is straight versus when it’s angled?” I don’t say angles are bad; I ask them to notice what they think when my spine, head, feet, and hands are straight compared to angled.
They sometimes say that my angled spine seems more casual or that I don’t care as much. We then discuss how distracting it would be if my words were strong, where I needed to move their mind on a topic, and my spine was angled. (Yes, there are exceptions. If my spine is always angled, then there are things I can do to compensate.)
Last year, I was coaching an executive whose head would tilt at a specific part of her script. I let her know I was struggling to stay engaged in that section. Her head tilt was distracting. We discovered that she felt her words were too strong, being new at the company, and might be subconsciously trying to soften the message by tilting her head. She wasn’t aware she was doing this. We discussed owning her words, not angling her head or changing her script. She decided to keep the script as it was and confidently delivered it with her wonderful, straight lines!
In a workshop, when I angle my feet away from my listeners, they say I seem impatient, like I need to move on quickly. The angled hands while speaking also prove distracting.
In comedy, angles lower a character’s status. For example, the character of Alexis Rose from Schitt’s Creek, brilliantly played by Annie Murphy. The Roses are a wealthy family down on their luck. Each has distinct traits that lower their status and make them comedic. Alexis (Annie) has perfected the art of severely angled hands, aka TRex arms. They make her brilliantly funny, but I would be very distracted if an executive were onstage delivering a keynote with unconscious TRex arms. However, I WOULD watch an Alexis Rose keynote and revel in every angled gesture.
Presence has a posture. Your straight lines can help deliver your message to your listener’s minds. When you are nervous before a talk, take a moment, inhale, straighten your spine, feel your feet on the ground, and stretch your arms. I have nothing against a warm-up of Power Pose. However, this is not enough. This is only a moment. If 1/4 of your mind is trying to remember what you want to say, or if, instead of speaking in sentences, you are fragmenting, rambling, or composing while talking, then your connection in the room will splinter. Having just done a power pose, you could hit the stage and feel pretty good about yourself, but then what? If your breath is ragged or shallow, your listener will not feel your presence. You might transmit a feeling of unease rather than calm.
When I coach people, I bring them to their body, breath, voice, and mind, all in service to the listener’s mind. Your job as a speaker is to put your listener first. Take care of them, know how to connect, and stay connected throughout your talk.
My favorite image for powerful connection is the Aspen tree. A tree is connected to the ground, and its root system is connected and intertwined with the other trees around it. Standing in the middle of an Aspen grove, breathing and quietly connected to all around me, I feel a powerful peace. The feeling that I am in connection to everything around me is power. Not power over others or power over my anxiety. It’s power in the truth that nothing is about me. The people listening to my talk are part of my talk. Their minds are the reason I am talking. Talking is an act of respect. The listener is giving you their time and attention. What else do we humans have to offer except our time (limited) and attention (what we give our time to)?
A few years ago, I was backstage before a keynote. As I stood there waiting to go on, I felt an enormous rush of adrenaline and negativity. I could not believe I had gotten into this and was desperate to escape. I was blanking on my opening line and knew I must run. I looked to my right and saw the exit door. If I ran, no one would understand what was happening until it was too late. They hadn’t paid me yet, so surely all would be fine. I didn’t care if I was banned from speaking for life as I was sure I never wanted to do this again.
Suddenly, I heard my name announced. Too late. I took a deep breath and heard people clapping, realizing all I had was this offering. I was there to offer what I could. They could take it or leave it, but it wasn’t about me doing well. It was about giving what I could to their minds. I reminded myself to be of service. I took a deep breath, straightened my spine, and stepped into the unknown with my listeners. How wonderful to never be siloed and alone. May you feel connected now and always.