15 Tips for Public Speaking

Photo Credit: Anastasia Photography

By Danielle LaPorte

1. Gratitude is always the best place to begin.
Any and every gig is an honour. Thank the host, and thank the audience for the possible mountains they moved to show up and listen to you.

2. Being prepared is an act of love. And intelligence.
Even if you can improv with the best of them, do a complete run through in advance, and a written key points list of your talk. I like to do a verbal run through in the tub the day before (the tub is my second office, really,) and I do a key points list the morning of the event.

3. Lead with your best stuff.
Make an entrance. Put forth your Big Point right away. Start with your best story, your funniest joke, your guiding theory. Don’t make them wait to see you shine. Grab ‘em from the get-go.

4. Know who you’re talking to.
A co-presenter and I gave a talk to a group of underprivileged single moms. My co-presenter talked about shopping at Tiffany’s and Saks. They turned on us. It was ugly. Along this same line…

5. Research your audience.
Guy Kawasaki is great at this. At a presentation in Vancouver last year, he sported a Vancouver Canucks jersey, made some good jokes about the event organizers, and told some personal stories that related to the organization’s mission.

6. Actively respect your audience.
A playwright friend of mine commented on an actor’s performance: “You could tell she didn’t like the character that she was playing. And you’ve always got to find something to love about who you’re playing to make it real.” Same goes for your audience. You won’t always be presenting or pitching to your tribe, to people you “like”—find the common ground and put your love there.

7. Never, ever admit to fatigue.
I heard a very popular author open his talk, to a packed theatre, with “I’m quite tired, I’ve been on the road for a few days.” Instant downer. It made us feel guilty for keeping him up past his bedtime, or ticked that we spent $50 to hear a jet-lagged psychologist. I’ve done gigs on two hours of sleep, in the middle of a professional tragedy, stoned on Sinutab. You get up there and you SMILE, no matter what. You can collapse when you get off stage.

8. Stay in the lead as long as you’re on stage.
A few weeks ago I was speaking to a ballroom of university business students at The Four Seasons Hotel. As I was leaving the stage, a woman at the back of the room raised her hand. I’d just handed back my mic, but I gestured to take her question. She proceeded to tell me that I was dressed like a slob and not setting a good example to the students about personal branding. Not kidding. (And I looked HOT, BTW.) You could have heard a pin drop. Heckled! First time for everything.

“And how have you come to be here tonight?” I asked her. I figured she sneaked in. She mumbled something about being a mentor, and then she made a dash for the door, carrying her various tattered shopping bags. “Well,” I said to the stunned audience. “Now you have an example of what elegant is and what elegant isn’t. And that’s branding.” I didn’t exhale until I got in my car.

9. Plan your finish.
Wrapping up can be the hardest part of a talk because you’ve either used up all of your good stuff, you’ve gone over time, or you have space to fill. Hold on to your closing gold nugget so you can leave on a high note either way.

10. Believe that people are rooting for you.
It’s vastly true that every single person watching and listening to you wants you to be amazing. They want a great experience. No one likes to see someone bomb. They really do want you to win.

11. Go easy on the apologies.
This is a tricky one, because elegance is the numero uno concerno. But things like, “Sorry to keep you waiting,” “My apologies for the technical snafu,” can create more snags in your fabric. Sometimes, most of the time, it’s better to just keep going. An ice skater doesn’t apologize for slipping. She keeps skating, distracting you with the next great move.

12. Dress up.
When you’re on stage being well dressed says, “I cared about you enough to polish it up.” Sunday best.

13. Affirm, pray, focus, ommm.
Whether it’s a staff meeting you’re leading or a concerto performance, a short pre-show ritual pulls your energy into your center. Before I take the stage I say this quickie prayer, “Help us shine.” That’s it. That covers me, the audience, and the world in one fell swoop.

14. Ask questions.
Frame your stories into questions and you’ve created a conversation.

15. Know how you want to feel when you’re done your presentation.
Ultimately, you can’t really control what the audience does and if try to, you’re likely to fumble. I’ve had what I thought were hilarious stories that didn’t get so much as a giggle. And I’ve had low-engagement audiences that swarmed me after I got off stage. You just don’t know.

What you can aim for is how you want to feel. And when you anchor into that feeling, your energy gathers a momentum and you get into the magical flow. When I leave the auditorium, I want to feel like I connected, like I was divinely feminine, and innovative–on my personal edge. And if I did my best to be those things, than I can sleep well, even if I forgot to say thank you, or I tripped over a speaker, or got heckled by a bag lady.

PS…
All-important style tips:

Ladies:
: Wear a good bra. You know, 80% of women are wearing the wrong fit of bra, right? Well, when that happens on stage, it’s tragic. While we’re on the topic…
: Tits up. You heard me. Lift your girls up and your entire posture changes.
: False eyelashes. Don’t be afraid of them. When you’re being photographed, the small touch of glam can give you just the right amount of voom voom.
: Always have a back up outfit.
: High heels are a must. Because, it’s not how you feel, it’s how you tower.

Gentlemen:
: Shave. A 5 o’clock shadow looks great when you roll over in the morning, but in the spotlight or on camera, you do not look suave, you look like a bum. Or like George Michael in 1991.
: The pants. It’s all about excellent fitting pants. Get a tailor.

Danielle LaPorte is the creator of WhiteHotTruth.com, which has been called “the best place on-line for kick-ass spirituality.” A former think tank exec, news show commentator, motivational speaker, and lead author of Style Statement, she has been featured in Elle, Vogue, Entertainment Tonight, and the Huffington Post. Her latest online book is The Fire Starter Sessions: A Digital Experience for Entrepreneurs.

The Grudge: How To Embrace Forgiveness

By Jess Ainscough

“Forgive all who have offended you, not for them, but for yourself.” –Harriet Nelson

At some point in our lives, each and every one of us experiences betrayal by friends, lovers, family members or that person on eBay who sells you a fake Louis Vuitton bag after she stated it was authentic. No one and no relationship are exempt from deceit. This little gem of wisdom could turn you into quite the cynic if you allow it. Finding the courage and willingness to forgive someone who has been disloyal can be the hardest thing in the world. But the ability to understand and practice forgiveness will lead you to a life that many people are too stubborn to experience. And the benefits of letting go of a painful situation far outweigh the bitter taste of betrayal.

You may think that forgiveness means condoning the actions of the person who hurt you. In reality, the person who feels the full emotional and physical brunt of your unrelenting grudge is yourself. By practicing forgiveness you can let go of expectations, blame, resentment, guilt and judgment, and allow yourself more energy to focus on the positive things in your life. There is no point trying to change people. We can only work on ourselves. Ask yourself, do I want to be right or do I want to be happy?

The ability to forgive was a trait I chose to embrace with open arms at an early age. After feeling the gut-wrenching pain of multiple stabs to the back and experiencing the dark depression that follows such an attack, it occurred to me that forgiveness was my only ticket back to a sunny disposition.

When I was 16, I was betrayed by both my best friend and my boyfriend at the same time. He was my first love and I thought he was the best thing since the sausage roll. Looking back now, I realize that it wasn’t really love. But to a 16-year-old girl, he was everything. To cut a long and tired story short, five months into our romance my friend decided she thought he was a bit of alright too. She stroked his ego, made it obvious she was interested, and in no time at all they hooked up.

The worst part of the situation was that everyone knew about it except me. The whole thing read very much like the script of a tacky soap opera, and I played the part of the victim perfectly. I was heartbroken. I lost all faith in the sanctity of both love and friendship. My pure, rose-colored outlook on life was severely tainted, and for a long time my optimism was compromised.

The betrayal I suffered was quite mild compared to other cases, but at the time I thought it was the end of the world. In a situation like that the easy option would be to simply cut the person out of your life, and in some cases this is a necessary action. But even if you take it that far, harboring resentment and bitterness will only lead to further personal trouble. You can only really move on if you have truly forgiven.

Here are a couple of ways to get the forgiveness ball rolling:

-Repeat affirmations such as, “I now lovingly forgive (name of person or event).”

-Write a list of all the people who have hurt you. Take some time to sit quietly by yourself, close your eyes and visualize each person one by one. Now picture yourself approaching them, and say to them “I forgive you.” Then imagine all the animosity you felt between you evaporating into the air as a dark mist.

When we refuse to let go of issues and harbor bitterness, we are only hurting ourselves. When we choose to forgive, we are choosing to be free of the past and not perceive ourselves as victims. Once we’re alleviated of the burden that comes with bitterness, we will have more energy to focus on all the good things in life. Life becomes rosy again.

Jess Ainscough is an Australian-based freelance writer and the creator of the natural healing blog, the Wellness Warrior. Before being diagnosed with cancer in 2008, Jess was a social reporter and online editor for a teen magazine. After leaving her job to focus on her health, she now spends her time drinking carrot juice, meditating, practicing Bikram yoga and learning everything she can about healing.

What I Learned in the Eye of the Storm

By Emme

I, like many of you, have been to the belly of the beast and have made it back to share a tale or two… all I have to say is thank you God for getting me to this day and enabling me to share my journey!

I am a lymphatic cancer survivor, the mother of my energetic beautiful daughter, recently divorced and dating, selling my home of 20 years, and leaping into the world of fundraising for the Body Image Council, a not-for-profit program I founded for the National Eating Disorders Association. I am, without a doubt, a survivor with gusto!

“Why are you so driven?” you may ask. Quite frankly, I am because I am alive. I am because my mother is not here and was not given the chance to be (she had her own bout with bone cancer back in the late ‘70s). I am because as my daughter’s role model, I need to show her that having cancer is not a death sentence. I am because I am happy to do it all. Bring it on!

Knowing what I know now, and in honor of both my daughter and my mom, I embrace my hectic life and strive to infuse quality into all that I do—in fact, I require it in all aspects of my life. Quality counts in all things: personal choices, professional choices, spiritual practice, and even decisions regarding those with whom I share my time. This time around, it all matters.

Needless to say, since having conquered cancer, life and its meaning have changed. Thankfully, the big “C” forced me to take inventory and gave me the opportunity to do things a bit differently. Now I require a regular meditation and yoga practice, something I scoffed at in the past. I feel off-kilter if my homemade kale and spinach soup is not sitting on my stove ready to eat with a cup of rice. Unnecessary noise in the house has been reduced to a minimum. Quiet time, periods of solitude and peaceful music (iTunes, radio, ambiance, birdsong; Maxwell, Joss Stone and other grooves) are common in my world now.

In my love life, I must admit, a great romp is breathtaking. But I have made the decision to forgo the quick fix for quality: a man and partner who loves sex as much as I do, professes his love for me in innumerable ways, wants to protect me and my daughter, and doesn’t have a problem with picking up the tab (rather than waiting for me to do so). I’m certain he’s out there; it is just a matter of time! Seriously, it all boils down to quality.

I learned a lesson quite humorously after my final treatment two years ago. My frame of mind at the time was, “Okay, done that, NEXT!” And I mistakenly told myself that I could now get back to my life as it was pre-cancer. Not! I had been warned not to fool myself into believing this, as it could cause irreparable harm, but I have never been one to listen very well unless burned of my own hand. So there I was, my body just shut down and I was hit with the most inexhaustible feeling that the world was closing in on me—and I literally couldn’t move. I was in the eye of my personal storm, so to speak. No can go. Stop.

I had to acknowledge that life had changed, and that I had changed, forever. In fact it was necessary that I embrace the change. Since the pain of not changing was harder than the change itself, I ultimately allowed it to wash over me. I had to slow down and gracefully honor the life before me; to respect what had taken place; and to love myself enough to take good care of both myself and my incredible daughter, who will need me for decades to come. It is incredibly powerful to show my little woman-in-the-making how to demand the best of yourself and of those around you. This had become the only possible path for me, the new me: from the woman who was birthed the moment I heard the words “you have cancer” to the woman I became on my last day of treatment. That woman, with you here, is me; and much, much more so than before—as Mary J. Blige says, with “no more drama.”

Emme is a cancer survivor, supermodel, television personality, author, lecturer, clothing designer, and nationally recognized women’s advocate for positive body image and self-esteem with a clear mission: to awaken the inner magnificence inherent in each of us. She is also a mother, sister, aunt, and friend. For more information, visit www.EmmeStyle.com and www.bodyimagecouncil.org.

How to Nurture Yourself & Be Your Own Mother

By Tama J. Kieves

I have had to learn how to mother myself. I love my mother more than ever before, but for many years I felt I got the short end of the umbilical cord. Like many of us, I didn’t get the movie mother — the tireless cheerleader, the fierce cub protector, or the one who listened deeply to all my secret places and saw colors in me that I had yet to see. That mother was on back order when I was placing my cosmic selection. Instead, I got someone who hadn’t read the manual and, I know now, deserved and needed a mother herself.

But I have become a great mother to myself.

It has taken years, mind you. At first, I took the sad track to the broken amusement park ride “It’s Not Fair.” But soon you realize that nothing has changed and ever will change. Yes, I’d wince when I meet someone who had a mother that was their best friend or they aspired to be like. I’d avert my eyes from that glow — like seeing something so beautiful and private that I could never have and wasn’t meant for me.

But it was meant for me. It was meant for all of us. Even if you have a great mother, it’s important and life changing to become that nurturing presence for yourself. It’s a practice like chess or yoga. You can get better at being there for yourself in ways that rock your soul.

I’ve learned to become a fierce advocate for my joy. I am still working on becoming a resourceful presence for my pain. I tell myself, “You can tell me anything,” and mean it. I no longer punish myself for feeling helpless, angry, jealous, or stuck, and I’m willing to fill a thousand journals with my feelings. I buy myself tokens to celebrate achievements, large and small. I whisper to myself in the crevices of emptiness between my bones, “I’m proud of and have so much faith in you.”

I used to think it was sad to have to be nice to myself, since I didn’t have a “real person” to do it. Then I thought it could even be destructive, as though the worst parts of me, liberated from criticism and threats, could grow like spores. But it turns out that I’m not reckless when loved; I’m soothed and healed. It turns out that when I don’t have to protect myself from my own self-judgment I’m not interested in indulgence and escapism. And lately, I see self-kindness as a matter of pragmatism and responsibility. I am called to be a steward of the abilities and gifts that only I have, represent the sacred love that comes through me, and tend my fire and keep it burning, creating one more source of light and warmth. As I take care of myself, I am one less broken soul, one more capable being on the front lines ready to tend to the wounded.

I’ve learned how to mother myself from many sources, for which I am grateful. I’ve learned from the forgiving eyes of therapists how to listen to myself with less judgment. I’ve learned from the tender gestures of friends and lovers how to buy myself grapefruit juice, treasure my impish smile, and say “Oh honey” in the hard times. I’ve been amazed by the spontaneous mothering I’ve experienced from total strangers, people who saw me leaning against a wall like a wild rose bush and gently tucked a trellis underneath my leaves and helped me find a stable way to grow. I’ve been saved, redeemed, and taught by the kindness of brief acquaintances who may have received something basic in return, but who loosened a dark primeval knot inside my soul. I’ve felt safer in this life knowing that mothers — beings of nurturing, kindness, support, and love — are everywhere and that I do not have to be related to be deeply connected.

I’ve also learned from wisdom paths like Buddhism and A Course in Miracles. I’ve learned to become a loving witness for others and in so doing become that witness for myself. I’ve learned to discover and listen to a sweet beloved inner voice that is mother, father, lover, creator, and an original intelligence with the power of ten thousand waterfalls, the softness of a puppy’s breath. I continue to learn that I am never alone and infinitely loved, though love may come from a line in a book or the fragrance of a garden.

Since I have committed to following my dreams, I deliberately set out to become my own advocate and cheerleader. I knew there would be cut glass, abandoned markers, questions, and locked doors upon the path. I have consciously created a voice of encouragement within myself that sees my bravery for daring and care about effort, not results. It’s this voice that keeps me warm with praise and puts cotton in my ears when dark stories are told. It’s this voice that keeps lists of encouraging signs, scraps of evidence in my favor. It’s this voice that will scream from the bleachers when I die, “Way to go dear one. You gave it everything you had. It’s been a great ride!”

The beautiful thing about becoming this presence to myself is how much it’s enabled me to gift others with this love, to be that generous stranger for another, to be that lightning rod for my friends, family, clients, and students. I’ve turned some of my private ache into public service. I have even learned to mother my mother, a rag tag child herself, lost at sea in judgments, opinions, and injuries I will never completely know. Sometimes I do not feel appreciated or seen by her, but I am always appreciated and seen by me.

This month, think of nurturing yourself as your responsibility. Buy yourself a small gift or token of gratitude and support. Thank people in your life for their tenderness and kindness. The world is full of dynamite mothers, including you.

Tama J. Kieves is the bestselling author of This Time I Dance! Creating the Work You Love (How One Harvard Lawyer Left It All to Have It All!) and is a sought-after speaker and career coach who has helped thousands worldwide to discover and live their true work in the world. Visit her at www.ThisTimeIDance.com and sign up for free inspiration and support through her monthly e-newsletter or download her Free Transformational Report on “Finding Your Calling Now.”

Love as Yoga

By Tatiana Forero Puerta

About five years ago, in a winter almost as cold as this one, I fell head-over-heels in love. I found “the one.” A few months, a couple of rings and a small, private ceremony later, we were married. I swore on my “happily ever after.” Three years later I found myself standing at city hall on a rainy April morning with signed divorce papers in my hands, thinking how did this happen? Whatever happened to unconditional love? How can I ever allow myself to love again?

Divorce was easily one of the most challenging experiences of my life. Closing my heart was the most painful. I felt alone in many ways. But I wasn’t alone. Every time I read statistics on marriage, divorce rates are on the rise. The biggest news in magazine is some breakup or another. For some reason, many of us are having a difficult time sustaining long-term, committed partnerships that can withstand the test of time, regardless of married or not.

I don’t think I could have gotten through my divorce without yoga. I’d been practicing yoga for several years and teaching for a couple, but it was during this time that my practice truly intensified and became my ally. My practice listened to me when I needed to vent and I tried to heed its advice…to breathe into places of tightness and pain…to stay present and conscious. I immersed myself in the Yoga Sutras, the primary text of yoga philosophy. Yoga became a key player in my healing from a state of separateness. Through this process, I came to learn about love—love as a powerful practice and sacred union, strong enough to teach a broken heart to open again.

On Practice

Not long ago, I caught a segment on Oprah where a couple who had been together for many years were on the verge of divorce. Both were extremely stressed out and ready to call it quits. They were given the homework assignment to have sex every day for a year. After a year, they came back on the show happier than ever. At first, this didn’t feel right to me. One of the observances of yoga practice is Brahmacharya, which is often translated as continence or abstinence. The teaching is not that we should strive to be celibate monks, but rather that we be conscientious of our sexual energy and practice awareness and moderation. Daily sex for the sake of sex wasn’t necessarily up this yogi’s ally—not the definition of moderation.

Then, the couple started to talk more intimately about their journey. After time, it wasn’t about sex anymore. The assignment forced them to create at least 20 minutes a day with each other and nothing else—no TV, no cell phones, no work, no computer—just them in their truest element. Over the course of the year, bonding took precedence over sex: conversation, staring into each others’ eyes, touching one another, and laughing became a daily practice. The couple found that the forced time to have sex led the desire to simply be with each other.

It was the couples’ decision to turn their marriage into a practice that saved their marriage, not the sex. As I continued my studies of yoga, I came to see that just like yoga, love flourishes when it becomes a practice. One of the ways the Sutras define the term “practice” is that a “practice must be well attended to without break.” This is to say that we grow in our yoga as we delve into a routine practice and as we carry lessons off the mat and into our lives.

To be in the practice of a loving relationship means “off the mat” practice and practice as practice. Off the mat, it means to hold our partner in mind and heart, even when we’re not around them, by thinking positive, loving thoughts in their absence or balancing criticism with an affirmation.

Second is practice as practice. The practice of time together needs to be just that– just like our practice on the mat is just us on the mat, allowing ourselves to be with our partner in a loving and caring context. No plans, no activities, even no sex, just one another. This is an integral aspect of relationship practice, one of the practices most missing in our relationships today. The degree of stimulation around us make it difficult to sit and be in our beloved’s presence. Taking time out away from stimulation—television, Facebook, magazines—is an important way to reconnect.

On Union

In Sanskrit, the term yoga is used to signify a sacred union. The term yoga does not exclusively denote physical postures, but rather, these asanas are one way of creating the greater, deeper union. A union of the self, a dynamic singularity beyond the mind/body complex, where you simply exist—open and complete.

As I explored the notion of such a union and experienced moments of it in my yoga practice, moments where my practice and I became one, I thought about my ex husband. I thought about the times we had been in union. I recognized that I’d experienced this at the beginning of my relationship, like many of us do, when we are first in love. We tend to meld into one another, two entities coming together in a dance of held hands, tender moments, and sexual cohesion. But as time passes memories dwindle, less time is spent together or desire for time together, less touch, less laughter. The honeymoon period ends and the words “in love” become a catchphrase rather than a state of being.

What I came to understand through my yoga practice was that relationships take consistent commitment and work from both partners. This is where the union happens. A union that is more than just its parts—in this union two become one, boundaries are blurred, and something greater is born, something sacred is created.

This past year I met someone special again. This time around, my partner and I do our work together. It has been the most challenging and holistic relationship of my life, and I never would have found it had I not realized the need for my relationship to become a dedicated and committed practice. We share other practices together–writing, yoga, meditation, prayer–making sure we practice at least one of these together daily. We work as a team, towards something greater. I now believe that when couples exist together toward a common goal, whatever that may be—something as simple as fighting together against animal cruelty or creating a community garden, or as expansive as cultivating a cohesive prayer, meditation or devotion to God—a sacred union is created. And what is sexier and more romantic than a partnership where work and play become unified.

As it turns out, unconditional and romantic love are both daily practices that require dedication. And so it was through my yoga practice, and with a lot of patience, that my heart began mend and ultimately open, allowing love back in.

Tatiana Forero Puerta is a Yoga and Yoga Philosophy instructor in New York City. She holds degrees in Philosophy and Comparative Religion from Stanford University and New York University. She is the Founder and Director of OmWellness.org, a spiritual holistic nutrition program in Manhattan. Tatiana’s pieces have appeared in Assisi Literary Journal, New York Spirit Magazine, and JOY: The Journal of Yoga. Tatiana is currently working on her first full manuscript.