After doing a few Webinars I’ve had some thoughts on things I’ve learnt. These were done using Zoom.us and viewed on a national level. My colleague does them on a global scale using other tools. You never know, maybe I’ll try going worldwide next year!
I’d like to share with you a little method I’ve used for battling boring things I need to learn about.
Given what I do, there are a LOT of topics I’ve had to look into. If it’s something I’m not into and it’s for work, my brain will tend to act all inner teenager, getting grumpy and yelling “Booooooorrrring”. It would much rather stomp to my room and play games.
So, I’ve had to find a way to trick my brain into looking at boring topics.
One way I can do this is ‘passive watching’ videos. Have you ever noticed when watching programmes or tv shows, as soon as an ad comes on you just zone out and think about something else. Then the ad stops and you switch back into activitly watching the programme? (He has me watching The Block lately, it’s an australian building competition show, worth watching for the tongue in cheek audio editors). I take advantage of this passive watching behaviour to watch boring topic videos. I search for something (usually about an hour to half an hours worth) on a subject. Hit play and zone out, as if watching a half hour advert. What I’m waiting for is ANYTHING interesting to land. Anything at all. little facts, little insights. When a moment hits, I will ‘switch’ as if an ad has just ended and the show is back on.
It can take a few tries. To be succesfful I have to find a presenter on a topic that actully has something insightful to say. (Also important to not have a phone or book or anything distracting in the hand) It has been an invauable technique to help me get into a topic and get my occasionally gruding teenage brain back on board.
And, if I’ve done it right, I usually find out it wasn’t so boring after all 🙂
Preparing for that first big presentation is a mine field of elements. There are many things you can control – you can ensure you have properly working hardware, you can choose the best presentation software for you, and spend weeks researching and putting the slides together just right.
But HOW do you make YOU ready?
Here is the story of how I prepared for that first big presentation.
It was a few years ago. I was incredibly nervous. I had no problem with the tech; I’ve always been pretty good with PowerPoint and Keynote. I’d all my notes in the notes view and printed out just in case. But I just couldn’t speak back then. I hated being in front of people. I would sweat and stumble and panic and talk a million miles a second just so it would be over faster! I’d gotten several pieces of advice on how to prepare. One was to know my notes inside out so I could say them without stumbling and focus on slowing down. I had to get used to people looking at me as well. So I grabbed my ipod and notes and walked around saying them over and over again. I must have looked very silly walking a big loop around Grand Canal Dock talking to myself (these days’ most people would assume you were on a phone call, back then, not so much). I did that for a few evenings and slowly I got there. I stopped minding people looking at me (quite so much) and I stopped speaking as fast. I’ve since heard a story about a little girl who had the same fears before a talk so she dressed up in a dinosaur costume to get used to the stares. She’s far braver than I was! I presented a few days after that. I was still incredibly nervous and had cold sweats but I didn’t stumble or stutter or pause so it at least looked like I knew what I was doing and that’s the most I could have hoped for.
Do you have any tips you’d like to share on presenting? How did you get beyond your nerves? I’d love to hear your comments.
“3 weeks ago you couldn’t put your head in the water. And now you just swam 3 metres!”
The happy exclamation of G. The guy whom, when I said I’ve always wanted to learn how to swim, found adult swim lessons and signed us up.
(this may have an element of ‘pay it forward’ on his part, as his friend T did the similar for him when he said “I’ve always wanted a tattoo” and booked him in for one. I shall have to do likewise for someone else someday 🙂
It wasn’t what I expected from the start. The first thing that caught me was just How Nervous I was looking in to that clear blue pool.
There were to be four in the learners class. One girl who didn’t show up, an older english guy W (in his 60s), G (as moral support) and myself.
The instructor asked our reasons; W had been out swam by a “young feller” and wanted to learn to breathe right so he could show what he was made of. I had always wanted to learn. And G, when he admitted he could swim and was just support, got chased out of our lesson and into the improvers lesson at the far end. Just two of us so. And bugger it, W could swim!
I couldn’t swim. I’d almost drowned before. Many many years ago I was staying the summer with friends of the family. All the kids in the town went to the river. It’s what you did. I couldn’t swim but I was trying. Some smarty pants kid thought it would be fun to start splashing me (the only non swimmer). Then ALL the river kids joined in. The wall of water was unending. I turned and prayed I was facing the river bank. Walking and suffocating. It seemed to go on forever and the kids – having me on the run – splashed harder. By the time I climbed out I could barely breathe. I don’t remember much after that. Don’t remember how I got back to the house. But I never went within splash distance of the river for the rest of the summer.
That was a long time ago. It feels good to face things as an adult and stare them down.
Week 1: Up and down a half length we go. With various types of float. Bend, stretch, breathe, SPLUTTER, bend, stretch, breathe, SPLUTTER.
My throat Burned. My nose burned. I was frustrated and tired. But I was determined to get there.
(I couldn’t get it. It burned so badly. I was confused. Something wasn’t right. Luckily a co-worker used to teach swimming. Happy days! I was breathing out through my mouth and the water was rushing up my nose. Solution? Take a big mouth breath. Clamp the mouth shut. Breathe out the nose – Presto! Less burning. This sounds all very obvious I’m sure. But it’s the simple things that trip you up)
Standing in the changing booth. After swim class. I’ve a moment to myself so I take it. Deep breathes. Nearly cried.
Why? I went without a float. For the first time. No armbands. No hand float. Just me. I was so surprised. Mostly that I didn’t sink! I don’t know if you could call it swimming per say.. But .. Yay!
Practice the front crawl (? – The one where you move your arms like a windmill). I’m getting so frustrated. Coughing and spluttering. Every time I hit the water I panic and jump up again. The instructor isn’t really helping “what at you standing up for? That was barely one stroke. I want four in a row!!” she repeats this over and over. Drill sergeant style. I’m tired. Bashing my fists against the water in frustration. And I’m getting angrier and angrier with the drill instruction.
I look into the water. I can see myself standing on a cliff…lean forward and fall… Throwing myself into water and pummel forward in a FURIOUS flurry of arms and legs, Roaring forward in my mind and pushing about 2 meters up the pool. It was a Triumph of anger! But was met with a hug of glee. It was great to have someone there to share that moment -thank you G
In the last few weeks doing the lessons I’ve learnt a few things. 1. Goggles are awesome. They take away some of the panic as you can keep your eyes open when you’re under the water. It’s an odd sensation. But quite cool. 2. There are so many out there who have learnt to swim as adults and all of them are supportive and encouraging. 3. Swimming is easy. Breathing is hard. Also, swimming is complicated (it’s like all those different things you try to do learning a bike. Get the balance. Move your feet. Keep your arms steady. Hard until its easy all of a sudden. I’ve just got the stablisers off but I’m still not coordinated). 4. Goggles. 5. You need a good teacher. Someone who’s teaching speed matches your learning speed. I’m getting a different teacher. 6. By the way. Goggles.