Retail Observer

RETAILOBSERVER.COM NOVEMBER 2018 46 R ecently, I was speaking with a man who emigrated with his four children from Africa. He is a pharmacist and his eldest daughter is a graduate from Harvard and a medical doctor. He has a delightful smile, a mischievous twinkle, and those who know him admire his affable, friendly style. At the end of our interview, he asked my advice about something that was of concern. He found that sometimes when he needed to speak in front of groups, he'd begin to experience severe anxiety and nervousness a few days prior. This seemed to be more prevalent when he was to speak to physicians or clinicians, and not to his own team. As a pharmacist, he knew the appropriate dose of Clonazepam to ease his nervousness, and it seemed to help a little, but he still felt like he wanted some other method to appear as the confident, knowledgeable and amiable man he actually was. As we talked further, he shared that as a child he'd had a stutter, and often, with certain sounds like "m," he would get stuck with a word and not be able to get it out. His anxiety, it seemed, wasn't really about standing up front or being asked tough questions, but that his memory would move him back to a time when he simply had no voice. Words wouldn't come, no matter how hard he tried. This struck me, especially when he said, "I want to be eloquent," and I thought, who doesn't? The mechanisms of speech aside, what is more frightening than imagining you have no voice? A re-occurring nightmare for me my whole life was that I would open my mouth and no words would come. I couldn't speak. Speaking in one's own voice, beyond the mechanics of sound and syllable, is an essential, human need. Indeed, perhaps, to speak in one's own voice is the work of a lifetime. To create linguistic magic, to link your language to your thoughts, to truly express what you need to say, feel compelled to say, feels more and more rare. It seems we are just talking, talking, talking, as the world stage continues to unfold. Technology has us talking more. Video screens and Times-Square-like consciousness over-stimulates our senses and our minds and we are reduced to 140 characters or OMG, LOL, or LMAO as a way to mark our innermost connections. It's noisy. It's chaotic. It's Wikipedia Google-y and information at our fingertips. Talking. Talking. Talking. We can probably recall the first few times we consciously tried to speak in our own voices by sending our first true love letter, writing a college admissions essay, or facing an extraordinary courageous conversation that mattered to us. We tried our best to reach out across the divide between our intended audience and ourselves. We tried to make what was on the inside of us emerge from our mouths or pens. And sometimes, with great relief, it comes. And other times, we get stuck on the letter "m," our words choked back in our throats. We spend our whole lives with this dilemma/challenge/call-to- action—say what you mean, ask for what you want, respond with panache. And what does it mean to really embody our voice: to speak your truth and own it wholly, to share something powerful, pithy and succinct? I spend my days, often, with intelligent, bright and talented people. Many are wildly successful leaders and entrepreneurs. They manage billion-dollar budgets and are indeed in conversations about curing cancer and rocket science. Some are selling furniture or environmental consulting services. Why are they so often unable, or unwilling, to say what they need to say to each other, to their constituents or customers, to their communities or stakeholders? Sometimes, they don't have the words. Sometimes, they are afraid. And other times, they are disconnected, distracted by the noise both inside and outside their heads. As a poet and speaker, I practice a discipline to be able to speak and write in my own voice, and even so, this doesn't make the task any less daunting or thrilling—I know when it happens, and it feels really good, both a welcomed relief and a goal accomplished. I've run all-out and leaned in, finally, to break the tape at the finish. Sometimes, until it's happened (you say it or you write it) you don't recognize the sweet spot of congruence until it's passed. Except you know, and you stand taller, more solidly, unafraid. Sometimes, knowing that whatever happens next, doesn't even matter, because you have been as true as you could be. You might like my TEDx talk, Own Your Voice: www.youtube.com/watch?v=f5a0krlB8lM STATE OF GRACE What happens when you speak in your own voice? Libby Wagner Culture Coach RO Libby Wagner, author of The Influencing Option: The Art of Building a Profit Culture in Business, works with clients to help them create and sustain Profit Cultures. www.libbywagner.com

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