In my previous reflection, I found myself sitting with a simple but uncomfortable realisation: I came into this world with nothing, and one day I will leave this world with nothing. Yet, so much of my life, and perhaps much of human life, is spent wanting, holding on, expecting and becoming attached to people, places, possessions and experiences. That thought stayed with me because if everything is temporary, why do we find it so difficult to let go? As I continued reflecting on this, another question began to emerge: why do certain people become so important to us that their presence makes us feel safe, while their absence can make us feel as though a part of us is missing? Why does losing a relationship sometimes feel like losing our identity? Why can leaving a familiar place make us feel as though we no longer belong? And why do some attachments feel much deeper than the situation itself seems to explain? ...
Last night, I delivered a keynote lab speech. For those unfamiliar with a keynote lab, it is one of the most challenging speaking environments because you are evaluated by experienced international speakers on every aspect of your performance. They assess your stage presence, speech pace, body language, audience connection, vocal variation, content, delivery style, flow, and the overall experience you create. You have just seven minutes to demonstrate your expertise and leave a lasting impact. Every second matters. I have been speaking for many years and have stood on countless stages. I have spoken to thousands of people, trained leaders, and coached individuals to become confident communicators. Yet, for the first time in my speaking journey, I felt something I had never experienced before. I felt it in my stomach before I even stepped onto the stage, and as my speech progressed, I felt myself slowly losing my presence. Most people in the audience probably never noticed. However, a f...