I stumbled as I began to speak. I heard the little voice in my head complain, “It took at least one minute for him to say all that. How am I supposed to answer in less than a minute?”

I finished, and the host made a few remarks. I have no clue what he said, because the little voice in my head was grumbling, “How are you going to inspire people to share their life wisdom if you can’t speak to a group of thirty people without nearly fainting?”

I felt that familiar rush of heat around my face and neck. Then I experienced this all-too-familiar impulse to retreat—leave the room.

I’d like to tell you this was years ago, but it happened this week!

THE MESSENGERS’ JOURNEY REVISITED

For years, I’ve taught the art of storytelling as a three-stage progression toward mastery I call “The Messenger’s Journey.” This week, I was in the novice stage.

I’m reminded of Richard Bach’s insight: “We teach what we most need to learn.”

Typical for Stage One of the Messenger’s Journey, this messenger’s attention was on himself with concerns like, “Do I look okay?” and “Does my voice sound good?” My only thought of my audience was, “What are they thinking about me?”

In Stage One, the participant’s self-consciousness makes the audience uncomfortable and can make them feel nervous for the speaker. I glanced at my closest friend in the room and detected a wince of discomfort on his face—or was it pity? 

One of the keys to progressing in the Messenger’s Journey is recognizing that each time you step on a new “stage” (especially as the audience size grows or the stakes get higher), you naturally cycle back to Stage One. Note: this applies to being a messenger of wisdom in any context (not just on a literal stage).

Looking back, this audience included some people I was eager to connect with. I allowed that thought to make me self-conscious.

I easily may have become discouraged by this setback, but as I wrote in Issue [019], “I’m not willing to leave the stage of life having spent the whole performance hiding behind the curtain.”

Even though I felt a moment of panic and a temptation to leave the room, as Robert Frost wrote, “The best way out is always through.”

WHO AM I?

The way out of Stage One requires the speaker to ask and discover a meaningful and empowering answer to the question, “Who am I?”

The self-consciousness I have often felt speaking in front of groups arises from dwelling on disempowering thoughts like, “I’m a nervous twit who gets flustered speaking to groups of people.”

For absolute novices, it can take a long time to get past those automatic and persistent self-judgments. 

But I’ve been on this Messenger’s Journey for most of my life. So, as the second person was introducing himself at this event, I took a deep breath and asked myself, “Who am I?”

I silently made my declaration: “I am a stand for a powerful connection between generations, and a source of inspiration, encouragement, and insight for storytelling sages.”

My declaration shifted me out of Stage One, right through Stage Two, and into Stage Three. Let me explain.

In Stage Two, the speaker’s attention shifts from “myself” to “my message.” Here we find ourselves searching for the right words, stories, metaphors, and frameworks to convey our message most effectively.

When a speaker looks like they are reading a teleprompter in their head, they are squarely in Stage Two.

The question that advances the game at this stage is “What do I have to offer?” The passage through Stage Two is marked by transcending the concerns of the ego and focusing on the value that will make a difference for the listener. 

THE ROAD TO MASTERY

Authentic mastery of one’s content contains a mix of self-confidence and humility. It can sound boastful to some, while inspiring to others. Here’s my Stage Two mastery statement:

~ I’ve learned from unrivaled masters, struggled to unveil my own self-expression, and persisted through decades on this journey. Now I serve as a sherpa—offering experience and compassion to guide those ready to become storytelling sages. ~

As you may have guessed, in Stage Three, the speaker’s attention shifts away from “myself” and “my message” to “what do you (my listener) want and need at this moment?”

This is where the magic happens, because all learning and transformation depend on the student. What a student learns depends upon what they can discover for themselves.

You may have heard the Zen saying, “When the student is ready, the teacher appears.”

Lately, I’ve wondered if it works the other way around. When you’ve passed through Stages One and Two and entered Stage Three, will the students just appear?

I don’t know yet. But I do know this: As the third person began speaking at that event, I looked around the room with fresh eyes—no longer wondering what they thought of me, but genuinely curious about who they were and what wisdom they carried. And in that moment, I saw not an audience of thirty strangers, but thirty potential teachers, each with stories that could inspire the world.

That could be what Stage Three really means. When we stop performing and start listening, everyone becomes both teacher and student. The wisdom appears when we’re finally ready to see it.

So here’s my question for you: Where in your life are you still stuck at Stage One, letting self-consciousness keep your wisdom hidden? What if you took one small step forward this week—not to be perfect, but to be present?

The world needs what you have to share. And I’m betting the students are already waiting.

Shine,