I clutched my steering wheel a little tighter as the butterflies were fluttering in my gut. I was driving to facilitate a workshop. I was about to spend a day standing in front of 20 strangers. I was nervous.
The familiar fears and questions welled up.
What am I doing?
Who do I think I am?
What if I don’t really know what I’m talking about?
What if they hate it?
What if they hate me?
I ran the gamut of feelings from imposter syndrome to existential dread. I was ready to call in and claim that a stomach bug had taken me out. No one ever questions a stomach bug.
It reminded me of when I first started public speaking.
I had just begun preaching at my church.
My nerves continually got the best of me back then.
In a cruel twist of irony, worrying about how I was doing made me worse. The more I focused on doing well, the more I struggled to string coherent sentences together. I was sabotaging myself before I ever opened my mouth.
Maybe it was experience or possibly maturity, but something shifted somewhere along the way. I realized I had something to say. There were things I wanted to share that I thought could help people.
Speaking became less about me and more about others.
Not that I had all the answers.
Or very many answers at all, really.
I just wanted to share things that I had learned.
And give people a different way to think about their lives.
I came to the same realization two decades later.
I told myself that the workshop wasn’t really about me.
It was about the people I was there to serve.
It didn’t matter if they liked me.
I mean, I still hoped they did.
But what really mattered was what I could give.
Maybe it would be an idea that would make a big impact.
Or even just something small and practical.
On my way to speak that day, I released the butterflies in my stomach.
My perspective shifted from anxiousness to excitement.
There are a million presentation tips and communication principles you can learn. But I’m convinced generosity is the key to communicating well. Simon Sinek calls it the giver’s mindset. I call it “This isn’t really about you, Jimmy.”
I still don’t think I’m a particularly gifted public speaker.
But I don’t get overrun with nervousness when I speak anymore.
So the best advice I can give you is to stop trying so hard to settle your nerves.
Instead, turn your attention to the people you’re there to serve.
Let your butterflies fly free.
The only cure for nervousness I’ve found is generosity.
It sure beats calling in with a stomach bug.