One time while I was attending university in Budapest, Hungary, the Dalai Lama came and gave a talk.
He sat on stage in a comfortable armchair, smiled beatifically, and spoke for an hour in front of the packed auditorium.
Afterwards, the Dalai Lama took questions.
There was an American guy in the audience I knew well, named Brendan. Brendan was studying environmental sciences, and he was infamous for being loud and argumentative.
Brendan immediately stood up to ask the Dalai Lama a question. It had something to do with environmental policy.
The Dalai Lama nodded assent while Brendan worked his way through his long question. Once Brendan finished, the Dalai Lama started to speak softly once again, sharing his vision.
Brendan listened for a few seconds. Then he got restless. Then he stood up again.
I don’t remember exactly what he said, but he started arguing with the Dalai Lama, in front of the entire auditorium, clarifying his own question, and highlighting important points that he wanted the Dalai Lama to be aware of.
I remember my face getting hot and my arms and legs getting heavy as I sank deeper into my seat, overcome with embarrassment on Brendan’s behalf.
Except of course, that’s not what it was. Brendan wasn’t embarrassed, and he didn’t need my embarrassment on his behalf.
Instead, I was just embarrassed by imagining myself in his situation — getting up to ask my self-important question in the middle of a packed auditorium, and then interrupting to pursue my point further, of the Dalai Lama no less.
It’s a curious thing.
I’ve always hated asking questions in seminars, participating in other people’s talks, groups, and discussions, being put on the spot. Like I said, always get hot, uncomfortable, and embarrassed. Regardless of what I say or what happens next, I come out of it feeling somehow dirty or defeated.
But that part’s not the curious part. I guess that part is common enough.
The curious part is that I’ve actually gone up on stage myself, both literally and figuratively, many times. And I loved it.
I used to do competitive debating. I’ve given talks at conferences. I’ve organized my own trainings and presentations online where I had hundreds of people listening (I hope?) to what I was saying in real time.
That’s the curious part.
Yes, these “stand up and command attention” situations always had my heart beating, my face flushed, and my body preparing to flee.
But inevitably, in every case, I came out of them feeling elated rather than defeated, purified rather than dirty.
What’s the difference?
Why is my instinct to be embarrassed and quiet in other people’s groups and talks and seminars… and to be willing to get up and speak when it’s something of my own, and to even be proud of the fact afterwards?
I don’t know.
Whatever the psychology behind it, the fact remains. I wanted to share it with you.
If you think you are not the kind of person who would ever stand up and command other people’s attention, maybe it’s because you have always tried doing it (or imagining doing it) within the context of other peoples talks, agendas, groups, whatever.
Organize something on your own, with your own initiative… and suddenly that same physical arousal gets interpreted in a positive rather than a negative way.
So much for unlocking the giant within.
Now I’d just like to remind you of my Daily Email Habit service. It helps you start and stick with writing daily emails.
Because yes, an email newsletter is a form of standing up and commanding of attention.
The good news is, it’s something you do for own ends… in a way that you control… and that you benefit from.
To find out more about Daily Email Habit: