I Am Not My Failure

A year ago I presented at a conference for the first time. (You can read about it here.) I was very nervous and practiced intently in the weeks prior. The hard work paid off and it went very well. I’ve since done that talk at many other conferences, each time with positive feedback and a sense of real connection with the attendees.

I decided to ride the wave of success to Vegas a few weeks ago. Even though the conference was not the largest at which I’ve spoken, something about Vegas made it feel like the big time. I learned that the organizers use a survey & scoring system to rank sessions. Then I was warned by other speakers that if your scores weren’t high enough, you may not be asked to return. Pressure was on!

I wish I could say it went well. Oh, how I wish. But the truth is, my session was not great. As a person who’s trying to view failure as something to be celebrated & learned from, I’ve evaluated what kept it from hitting the mark. Here are some lessons learned:

      ·      Arrive early! I did not arrive early enough…and of course there were technical difficulties. The projector adapter I brought was incorrect so I had to run to get a conference person for help. They thankfully had an adapter that I could use, but I missed the opportunity to welcome folks and chat a bit as they entered. Plus, I probably appeared rushed and flustered when I started – not a good first impression.

      ·      Practice! Because I’ve given this talk so many times, I underestimated the need to practice. Since this talk is very much a narrative, timing is important. After 2 months, the material was rusty and I should have rehearsed a few times. Maybe some day I can wing it, but for now, I am too new – and too nervous!

      ·      Get enough rest! I presented on my 4^th day in Vegas. After 3 nights of not getting much sleep, I can admit that I was tired. Maybe with more rest, I would have handled the technical setbacks better or at least been more witty or graceful about it.

      ·      Know thy audience! I made some assumptions about the attendees to this conference…namely that they were like all the other attendees that I’ve met. I didn’t consider that some people select this conference because it’s, “Vegas Baby,” and maybe they are less enthusiastic about sessions. Even the eager learners stay out too late and then arrive to sessions a little less engaged.

This last one gave me my biggest takeaway: be prepared to read the audience & adapt on the fly. I’ve never encountered a disengaged audience so I had not considered that possibility. It wasn’t over-confidence – just sheer ignorance.

The day after I flew home, I gave the talk again in Pittsburgh. I was filled with speaker-regret for volunteering to speak after a week in Vegas! And I was a little more nervous than usual, but it went very well. There were very thoughtful questions and several people stayed behind to chat afterwards.

Which taught me an even bigger lesson…my abilities are defined by an entire collection of behaviors, not by any one attempt. My failures and successes are merged together to create an ever-changing picture of my competency.

So, as I add knowledge and experiment with new ideas, I’m improving my abilities and the picture gets better and better. The problem with failure is that it sometimes feels like the positive image is being deleted and replaced with a less desirable version. Thankfully, our capabilities do not work like a Word document.

If we allow it, the failure can become part of the image. And just like shadows enhance a photograph, our missteps enhance our abilities. They make our resilience stronger and our success sweeter. But only if we take the time to accept them, learn from them and move on.

Honor Your Own Journey

Have you ever given a talk? Did you prepare weeks in advance? Or did you type the last word on the final slide 10 minutes before you spoke?

I gave a talk recently at Agile and Beyond, a regional agile conference in Dearborn, MI. I presented the material 3-4 times before, but I always get a little nervous before I present.

Throughout the day, as I visited the speaker room, there were other presenters in various stages of practicing and polishing their slides. I was in awe of the last-minute preparations. How could they just show up, finish some slides and nail it?

And most of them do nail it. I’ve heard them – articulate, funny, expertly fielding questions from the audience. No one has any idea that they never ran through their slides in their entirety out loud. And I’m so jealous.

I felt completely out of my league. It had been a few months since I gave my talk so I practiced the week prior then I ran through it twice on the car ride there. All the while with typed-out notes so I wouldn’t forget key points.

Why can’t I just wing it? I know this stuff! This particular talk is about my journey of discovering how I can add value. So why do I still need notes? And how am I in the same room as a girl literally hitting save on her slides as she left to go give her talk?

Ok, so maybe there are other explanations. Maybe she’s given that talk 10 times and was just tweaking something minor. Maybe she’s written countless articles about her subject. Or maybe, just maybe, her “practice” is the hours she spends coaching and teaching on a daily basis.

I guess none of these “maybes” matter anyway. I have to remember that we all have our own style of learning, practicing and mastering skills. Just because I don’t follow the same steps or pattern doesn’t mean that I can’t achieve the same success.

…Just like climbing a rock wall. At a gym, there are 100’s of holds to help you get to the top. But even

following the same route, no two people will ever use the same exact combination of holds to achieve the summit. A hold that is perfect for my reach is too close or too far for yours. We are each made gloriously different so we must each make our own path to the top.

And thankfully, we don’t have to go it alone. My first experience climbing taught me the value of having friends to guide your way. When you are hanging onto a wall, trying not to plummet to your death (those ropes are SO thin!), your face is inches away from the wall. You can only see the holds that immediately surround you. There are moments when you feel frozen, with no hope for continuing.

Your friends on the ground can see the whole wall. They know that just past your view is a perfect hold that will help you. They yell things like, “Let go with your left hand and reach straight up 18 inches. You can do this!” You don’t want to let go, but you trust their guidance and, reach by reach, make it up the wall.

Trust and let go…

Trust that your path is going the right direction and let go of pre-conceived notions of what success looks like. You will never follow the same exact path as someone else so stop comparing and start honoring your own journey toward mastery. And don’t forget to listen to friends for guidance when you can’t see the next step. Each climb gets easier and less frightening (I hope!). 

Where do you feel out of your league? What do other people breeze through while you stress out? And how can you honor your own journey?