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Here's what I learned TOTALLY by accident. Personal story sells.

Writing

Not The Mailroom, I Beg You

February 17, 2017

As part of a series of posts showcasing the different subjects, styles, and voices of my clients, I’d like to introduce you to Janice Dean, ‎who teaches folks how to bypass fear and create a powerful  speaking presence in six seconds. (Seriously, I would have taken this project on just for the big result Janice gives her clients! No more wishing for an atomic bomb to go off just before I step to the front of a room. ) This is an excerpt from her upcoming book, a parable that speaks to the lessons speakers must learn to get out of their own way and connect deeply with their audiences.)

The heavens were shimmering with thousands of melodious voices preparing for the long-awaited Chiliad Festival. This was to be the Show of all Shows. At the front of the stage, the actors were miming the story as the music played. The glorious musicians strummed their harps and blew their horns while the singers belted through their repertoire.

Suddenly the music stopped. A most unfamiliar sound occurred. Someone was shouting. “No, no! That’s not the way it’s done! You never gesture that way. You will block the audience’s vision.”

The eyes of the angels grew wide with shock. This was a heavenly first. The music conductor stood frozen with his baton in the air and turned to the angel with stumped wings. “May I help you, dear one?”

The angry one said, “No, but I can help you! This is supposed to be the Show of Shows, and these performers are entirely amateur. They don’t know the first thing about staging and how to give a stunning performance.”

The Conductor stepped down, and whispered, “May I ask, exactly who was it that sent you here? I see, shall we say, by the shape of your wings, that you are not actually ready to be up in the ninth circle. What is your assignment, and who sent you?”

“Why, no one sent me,” sputtered the incomplete angel. “I’ve come to deliver a letter to the ninth circle gatekeeper. I happened to see you were putting on a Show and watched with dismay. You could definitely use my help.”

The conductor waved his baton in the air as he led this creature away from the peering eyes of the Performer Angels. He said gently, “Excuse me, my friend, do you mean to tell me you came from the mailroom in the very first circle? Shouldn’t the messenger come from the third level? Aren’t you a long way from your post?”

Heavens-mailroom

“Well, yes, that’s the problem. There’s been a mistake. I’m not meant to be in the mailroom. I really should be up here at the highest level, you see, because I have so much to offer. With my gifts and talents, I can make this show beyond heavenly. I don’t mean to brag, but I am, or was, an Opera stage director of great repute. And if you’re smart, you’ll let me help you out. I worked with thousands of performers. We’ll get this Show back on track!”

Just then, the intruder was whisked to the invisible room. He heard the golden voice of St Michael boom over the intercom, “Mr. Snow. Mr. Albert Snow. This will never do. You must return to the mailroom for an undetermined stay. We are not sure if your wings will ever grow with this contrary behavior.”

“Oh no, no! Not back to the mailroom, I’ll go mad! Anything but that. Every time, I’m about to complete my box of mail and feel a bit of success, they dump more letters into my bin. I am project oriented. This job makes me feel like a failure. How can I grow wings when I feel so useless? Please, give me any work, but the mailroom! I beg you!”

“All right, Snow,” said the disembodied voice. “ I have a mission for you. Succeed and you’ll get your wings. Fail, and it’s back to the mailroom for eternity!”

“Marvelous! What’s my mission?” Albert Snow, starter angel, began to feel hopeful.

“You’ll find out when you get there!”

“But…” with a sudden whoosh, Snow’s voice drifted out of the air as he dropped down to earth.