Conquering Fear Of Public Speaking: The Cowboy Way

One cowboy with a pretty obvious fear of public speaking--or at least stage fright--is Montana's famed Benny Reynolds. At least, his monosyllabic replies during a stint on the Name That Tune game show in the late 1950s was known throughout the rodeo world. Born seven years later and also from Montana, though far from measuring up to either Ben's level of pure talent or his level of competitive drive, I likewise suffered from a similar fear.

Hopefully, I hid it better. It's possible no one outside of my own head ever suspected the truth. After all, I had a big mouth. Sometimes a very big mouth. In high school, I acted in both school plays, cornering and milking the most comedic characters therein despite our drama teacher's wish to let someone else have the honor during our Senior year. In college, I even took Speech as an elective and got an A for my demonstration of the inner workings of bull riding equipment in front of the rest of the class.

Inside my head? My gut? Inside was stark raving terror, threat-induced adrenalin, the certainty that everything would go horribly wrong. I'd be exposed as a fraud, ridiculed, maybe even stoned or something Biblical like that. Tense? Oh, you have no idea. The sweat dripping from every pore must have been rank beyond belief.

Sure enough. Sounds like a classic case of fear of public speaking. Which indeed it was.

As it happened, overwhelming terror in front of an audience actually spurred my determination to overcome the fear. Public speaking looked like it was going to become a significant part of my life, and no way was a mere phobia going to be allowed to get in my way. After college, there was thankfully a bit of a break, but by age 28 I was facing the next challenge: Speaking to a group of practicing astrologers as part of a campaign to become President of their organization.

Yes. You heard that right. Astrologers. None of us were well known enough to host a newspaper column or publish a best selling book on the subject, but most of us did set up and read astrology charts for clients at least part time. As far as I know, I was the only one who had ever picked out a wife by reading her chart long before meeting her in person, but that was hardly enough by itself to gain that coveted Top Dog position in the Spokane Astrological Society (no, not the Spokane Astronomical Society). It didn't matter that there weren't that many members in total or that only one other candidate had stepped forward with a touch of interest in the post. I wanted the approval of my peers, and I was terrified I'd blow it.

Folks, that speech was terrible. I positively radiated amsirahc--that's the opposite of charisma, if you must know. Most likely they voted me in as President to punish me for its awfulness. It could be. The S.A.S. is no longer in existence, maybe having me at the helm guaranteed its eventual doom. Now there's a thought to bolster a public speaker's confidence! Some studies indicate more people are afraid of public speaking than are afraid of DEATH!! Based on personal experience, I'd say that's absolutely right.

A few years after the astrological debacle, a miracle occurred. I didn't become a relaxed guy at the podium all at once. Not by a long shot. But I had by that time found the spiritual path that suited me. No, I'm not proselytizing; the point is simply that what I was doing in general was not just for me personally but also hopefully somewhat in line with the will of a higher power.

In other words, the "secret key" to success turned out to be the realization that even in front of an audience with hundreds of eyes pinning me to the wall like a bug on a board, it was not all about me!

Whoa. What a liberating thought. No more trying to picture even the ugly and obese people in the audience without their clothes on. I began speaking from the front of the room more often, especially after starting a multilevel marketing business that eventually provided the bulk of our family's income for more than 20 years. Years and more years went by. In the end, another truly liberating thing happened: I actually began to care about people in the audience. (Gasp!) Not care so much about how I would be perceived, but purely and simply how we could all connect in a manner that would be good for them.

And then one final "liberation boost". One day in the middle of an interactive workshop I was moderating--a workshop on dreams and their meanings, if I recall correctly--it suddenly hit me that I'd learned to trust that whatever was best for all would actually occur without any need for me to get all worked up about it one way or another.

Whether or not that is the way for a high percentage of nervous cowboys to conquer their fear of public speaking, I have no idea. But I do know it turned out to be the way for this cowboy.

Thanks for reading,

Ghost32