Gladwell’s research and claim/premise in the book is that it takes 10,000 hours to be a true master at something. He talks about hockey players and pilots and musicians and programmers. In each case it’s the same conclusion — those who put in the time become the experts.

It made me wonder. How much time have I put in at the craft that I love and make my living at? How can I help others reach that level?

Excel is my friend. I taught a (painful) year in high school. That made me teach/talk/present every day for 180 days. Then I TA’d in college. Then I taught in college a couple of years. Then I worked as a corporate trainer for more than a decade, teaching a couple of times a week and learning how to hate meetings and bureaucracy the rest of the time. And then I’ve become a coach/trainer/consultant. My total? I figure I’ve spent 8500+ hours in front of audiences speaking. But I really know that isn’t accurate, because the first 6500 or so were BAD experience. I hadn’t been taught how to do it and all I was becoming was comfortable, not better.

Then I think of some of my favorite people on the planet. Folks who know their stuff and want to get better at presenting. They speak at a conference or two, a lunch-n-learn here or there, a few formal presentations a year for their workgroup, and maybe a civic presentation or three. The really ambitious may teach a Sunday School class or at the community college. They might get… 50 hours a YEAR. In 200 years or so, they’ll become a Gladwellian expert in presenting.

The only hope to become an expert at communicating has to be to embrace our entire lives as an opportunity to communicate better. Every conversation, every phone call, every meeting, every chance encounter, every formal opportunity. They are ALL chances to get better and build that valuable expertise in the one skill you will always use — communicating.

Communicate better ALL THE TIME.

Most of us are well on our way to breaking our New Year’s Resolutions (35% of us do by the end of January — citation) and the off days and down time are well behind us as the pressures of a New Year are upon us.  Already 19 days in, the year is getting away.  But it doesn’t have to be that way.
For the loyal readers — both of you — I am sorry I let the time get away and haven’t written in a while. I’m even more sorry that I didn’t have time to play floor hockey with my son every time he asked, ride bikes, take walks, and sit back for long conversations.  On the positive side, I’ve enjoyed catching up with old friends via the ubiquitous Christmas letter, have made some important decisions about work and life, and have had some great moments with family (even now I sit typing this with a little girl in my lap and just explained why I like my kids’ mom more than their grandparents).
I’ve not given up noting life and the mysteries of communication.  In fact, I’ve been busy taking even more notes and have more material than I could ever write here.  One day, perhaps, I’ll just point you to the book.

In the meantime, I am more than ever committed to making each moment count, making each contact matter, and make each message make a difference.

Make the most of your life.  Begin today.

One of the day-long seminars I attended was a fascinating day composed almost entirely of lecture.  In fact, other than having a few moments to read some materials and possibly chatter with the person beside me, it was mostly just a ’sit back and listen’ presentation.  Not the kind of stuff that legends are made of.  But this person was just about a legend, and I found the time flew by and I hung on almost every word.

The problem was the most boring part of the seminar — about 45 minutes worth — was immediately following lunch.  I looked around about 20 minutes after the return from lunch and there were literally hundreds of folks (very large audience) either asleep or soon to be.  The sad thing is that just moving that content to a better time and using some of the more fascinating content to the post-lunch slot would have made the entire day seem wonderful, rather than just 5 of the 6 hours.  It’s a simple thing, but understanding the competition for attention and planning accordingly is paramount to full engagement.

No one likes to speak as the tryptophans kick in.  But sometimes it’s unavoidable, and it’s STILL the speaker’s responsibility to engage and keep the audience’s attention.

Have sometime lively for any time slot just after a meal.

The response from the other person in the conversational was predictable.  Her posture noticeably changed.  She was much less animated.  Why bother, after all, when your audience isn’t even looking at you.  And her countenance said she didn’t feel very important.  But since she had been told point blank to keep talking, she pressed on, clearly not confident her message was being received.  And it wasn’t.

When an audience can not or will not listen, it doesn’t do much good to press on with information. A simple, “I’ll wait” may be a better response.  We all face mind-share competition in getting our message out.  My kids can find most anything to avoid having to look me in the eye and listen to me, but I demand it before I press on with an important point.  And we should demand (or rather, offer) the same.  If they aren’t going to receive the message, we’re not doing them a favor in attempting to deliver it.

And if the attention is our fault as the presenter… well, that’s our fault, and we get what we deserve.  After all, Rule #1…

Don’t deliver material to an audience that won’t receive the message.

After contemplating, I realize that adults have the same mentality, just covered up with more social grace.  We rarely put ourselves voluntarily in situations where we don’t expect to be the best, if not at least successful.  And it hurts our ability to become better.  If my goal is to be a better (the best?) tennis player, I do myself a disservice (pun intended) to play only with players who are as good or not as good as me.  I get better by playing better folks.

I just finished a course this week where a participant gave the feedback — “I’m glad you pushed me.  You didn’t let me skate.“  Would that we had such an opportunity in all areas of our lives.  When it comes to communication skills, if we only see folks who are at our skill level or below, it’s unlikely we’ll progress (and we ALL can progress).  That’s why it’s so important to constantly ’sharpen the saw’ (as Covey puts it) and to seek out environments that challenge us.  I’ve found just studying the masters of the craft to be fascinating.  The web makes it easy.  Few people take the time to do it.

Force yourself to be pushed by those who are better than you.

And guess what?  The same is true about adult listeners.  Not the squatting part.  But getting on their level.  If we’re seen as a speaker from out-of-town with no connection or a boss speaking from on high, we do not connect or elicit a response from equals.  Messaging as an equal involves posture (open), position (not behind a desk or stuck on a platform), eye contact, wording (use their vocabulary), and tone, among other things.

Get on the audience’s level.