Feel The Feeling, Speak Anyway

 On the 10th anniversary of the tragedy we call 9/11, I listened as National Public Radio’s Here and Now broadcast a tribute to the occasion.  They did a masterful job of putting their arms around an almost incomprehensible subject. Survivors and first responders were interviewed.

Family members of the victims shared their thoughts and feelings.  But none moved me more than Rhett Miller, a member of the band Old 97’s who, at the time of the attacks, lived with his then-girlfriend in an apartment a stone’s throw from ground zero.  A songwriter accustomed to expressing himself through words, he documented his personal account of the day’s events in his journal, and shared some of his writing on NPR’s Here and Now.  It was riveting–not simply for the content, which, in its detail, was horrifying, but in the way that Rhett delivered it.

His voice was filled with a deep ache, as he read out loud words he hadn’t looked at in many years.  As the words brought back memories, he became more and more overcome with emotion.  “Flames shoot out either side of the towers,” he read… “flames shoot out of the building.”

Then he stopped and swore, softly.  He sighed, collecting himself, “ok, “ he said, and kept on reading.  This stopping and starting in response to deep emotion continued throughout his recitation.  Each time Rhett paused, the radio fell into a pregnant silence, punctuated by the sounds of his sighs, his throat clearing, and quiet apologies.   But though the emotion was, at time, almost overwhelming, he stayed resolved and resolute to his intention, which was to finish reading his words over the radio waves.  And so, he did, feeling the emotions, but pushing through them, until he reached the end.

Rhett proves the point that being overcome by genuine emotion, in a public speaking situation is not inappropriate.  Nor does it have to stop you cold.  Allowing yourself to feel what you’re feeling, and moving forward in spite of it, honors both the feeling and the audience.  Consider this the next time you rise to give a heartfelt eulogy, or find yourself tearing up when accepting an award on a public platform.  Feel the feeling; speak anyway.

SOURCE: http://abecssbr.com/ann-arbor/ann-arbor-2011/guest-columns-ann-arbor-201...