Of course he's a comedian, and yes he was trying to be being funny... but no, in that moment I wasn't embracing the frivolity of the situation.

Call me boring.

Mr. I-never-get-nervous... was crapping himself.

Sitting there knowing that everybody in the room had come along to judge my performance, to rate me with the TV remote thingy and then to make a decision about putting me on their shopping list (or not) was... uncomfortable.

Times ten.

For the first time in... forever, I was genuinely nervous. I went to the toilet four hundred and nine times in the thirty minutes before my gig... and had a resting heart rate of three hundred and sixteen.

Anyway, the short version is that I got through the presentation relatively unscathed. No-one threw anything at me, no-one left the room and I only offended maybe sixty people (quite good for me).

But it was interesting for me to have those feelings again.

The reason I tell this story today is because I meet so many people who th

In his normally, sharp-as-a-tac mind (okay, that's a big lie), there's a bloke riding a uni-cycle, wearing big red shoes, a green bow-tie and a yellow fluffy wig... he's juggling seven balls and has that far-away look in his eye.

The light's on... but nobody's home.

He's experiencing a momentary creative drought. Mister Life Renovation has fallen head-first into a cerebral abyss. His mind is like one of those bananas he left in his school bag for two weeks in year nine. He re-writes the same sentence six times and stares pathetically at his screen through his bloodshot eyes.

Why on earth is Craig writing in the third person when it's so annoying and embarrassing. Idiots do that. He should really cut that out.

Sorry, couldn't help myself.
I laugh my guts out when people do that.

"Sammy, daddy's not happy with you... and you don't want to upset daddy do you?"

Sad.
And hilarious.
Daddy's an idiot.

Craig thinks he might do that more often.
Just to annoy you all.

Perhaps not.

Some days after spending fifteen hours dealing with the realities and practicalities (a.k.a. egos, attitudes and personalities) of my life, I find myself sitting at my trusty old laptop, floundering in my very own creative void.

With physical and emotional exhaustion wreaking havoc on my brain's already diminished level of function, I have been known to write three (crappy) sentences in a hour.

Today is not such a day... (Well actually, they may be crap sentences - that's for you to judge - but there will be more than three per hour). Today was a post waiting to be written. Today life smashed me over the head with the discomfort stick. Today a life-lesson grabbed me by the throat, threw me against the wall, kicked me in the gut, picked me up and then slapped me around some more.

Jumped on my head a few times and then poked me in the eye with a big stick.

I loved it. And hated it.

He who dispenses the discomfort, had it dispensed on him. (I did it again, didn't I?)

This morning I had to give a presentation at an event called a 'Speakers Showcase'.

So my speaking agency (ICMI) invited a whole bunch of companies (who regularly use speakers) to come along and listen to eight of their presenters (of which I was one). The representatives from the respective companies are buyers; they are 'shopping' for talent to use for their corporate conferences and programs (speakers, coaches, motivators, facilitators, educators).

Kind of like a fashion show where buyers come and check out the various labels. Except I'm not a model, there was no runway, I didn't show any cleavage, I didn't pout, I left my stilettos at home and I'm too hairy.

Okay, nothing like a fashion show at all.

Craig on show.

Here's how it went down.

The ex-bodybuilder, the Hollywood suit (I looked very grown-up), the 'razzle dazzle' auditorium, the lighting people, the sound people, the tech people, the ushers and the people whose job it was to sit there and evaluate my performance.

Quite the scene.

Three hundred (ish) 'buyers' in the audience. Eight speakers... I'm the first up.

"Mmm... okay, get it out of the way", I tell myself.

The MC (who's a well known comedian in Melbourne) gets up and proceeds to tell the audience how to 'score' the speakers with their electronic scoring gadgets (everyone was given what looked like a large TV remote when they walked into the auditorium).

"Good morning everyone. At the conclusion of each presentation today it is your job to rate our presenters somewhere between poor and outstanding (there was six rating option buttons) using your electronic scoring thingy (it had a name that I can't remember)... if, for example, Craig Harper our first speaker is crap, you would simply press the green button which represents a below average performance."

For once, I'm not being funny; he actually said that. I felt physically sick.

Of course he's a comedian, and yes he was trying to be being funny... but no, in that moment I wasn't embracing the frivolity of the situation.

Call me boring.

Mr. I-never-get-nervous... was crapping himself.

Sitting there knowing that everybody in the room had come along to judge my performance, to rate me with the TV remote thingy and then to make a decision about putting me on their shopping list (or not) was... uncomfortable.

Times ten.

For the first time in... forever, I was genuinely nervous. I went to the toilet four hundred and nine times in the thirty minutes before my gig... and had a resting heart rate of three hundred and sixteen.

Anyway, the short version is that I got through the presentation relatively unscathed. No-one threw anything at me, no-one left the room and I only offended maybe sixty people (quite good for me).

But it was interesting for me to have those feelings again.

The reason I tell this story today is because I meet so many people who th

"Sammy, daddy's not happy with you... and you don't want to upset daddy do you?"

Sad.
And hilarious.
Daddy's an idiot.

Craig thinks he might do that more often.
Just to annoy you all.

Perhaps not.

Some days after spending fifteen hours dealing with the realities and practicalities (a.k.a. egos, attitudes and personalities) of my life, I find myself sitting at my trusty old laptop, floundering in my very own creative void.

With physical and emotional exhaustion wreaking havoc on my brain's already diminished level of function, I have been known to write three (crappy) sentences in a hour.

Today is not such a day... (Well actually, they may be crap sentences - that's for you to judge - but there will be more than three per hour). Today was a post waiting to be written. Today life smashed me over the head with the discomfort stick. Today a life-lesson grabbed me by the throat, threw me against the wall, kicked me in the gut, picked me up and then slapped me around some more.

Jumped on my head a few times and then poked me in the eye with a big stick.

I loved it. And hated it.

He who dispenses the discomfort, had it dispensed on him. (I did it again, didn't I?)

This morning I had to give a presentation at an event called a 'Speakers Showcase'.

So my speaking agency (ICMI) invited a whole bunch of companies (who regularly use speakers) to come along and listen to eight of their presenters (of which I was one). The representatives from the respective companies are buyers; they are 'shopping' for talent to use for their corporate conferences and programs (speakers, coaches, motivators, facilitators, educators).

Kind of like a fashion show where buyers come and check out the various labels. Except I'm not a model, there was no runway, I didn't show any cleavage, I didn't pout, I left my stilettos at home and I'm too hairy.

Okay, nothing like a fashion show at all.

Craig on show.

Here's how it went down.

The ex-bodybuilder, the Hollywood suit (I looked very grown-up), the 'razzle dazzle' auditorium, the lighting people, the sound people, the tech people, the ushers and the people whose job it was to sit there and evaluate my performance.

Quite the scene.

Three hundred (ish) 'buyers' in the audience. Eight speakers... I'm the first up.

"Mmm... okay, get it out of the way", I tell myself.

The MC (who's a well known comedian in Melbourne) gets up and proceeds to tell the audience how to 'score' the speakers with their electronic scoring gadgets (everyone was given what looked like a large TV remote when they walked into the auditorium).

"Good morning everyone. At the conclusion of each presentation today it is your job to rate our presenters somewhere between poor and outstanding (there was six rating option buttons) using your electronic scoring thingy (it had a name that I can't remember)... if, for example, Craig Harper our first speaker is crap, you would simply press the green button which represents a below average performance."

For once, I'm not being funny; he actually said that. I felt physically sick.

Of course he's a comedian, and yes he was trying to be being funny... but no, in that moment I wasn't embracing the frivolity of the situation.

Call me boring.

Mr. I-never-get-nervous... was crapping himself.

Sitting there knowing that everybody in the room had come along to judge my performance, to rate me with the TV remote thingy and then to make a decision about putting me on their shopping list (or not) was... uncomfortable.

Times ten.

For the first time in... forever, I was genuinely nervous. I went to the toilet four hundred and nine times in the thirty minutes before my gig... and had a resting heart rate of three hundred and sixteen.

Anyway, the short version is that I got through the presentation relatively unscathed. No-one threw anything at me, no-one left the room and I only offended maybe sixty people (quite good for me).

But it was interesting for me to have those feelings again.

The reason I tell this story today is because I meet so many people who th

I loved it. And hated it.

He who dispenses the discomfort, had it dispensed on him. (I did it again, didn't I?)

This morning I had to give a presentation at an event called a 'Speakers Showcase'.

So my speaking agency (ICMI) invited a whole bunch of companies (who regularly use speakers) to come along and listen to eight of their presenters (of which I was one). The representatives from the respective companies are buyers; they are 'shopping' for talent to use for their corporate conferences and programs (speakers, coaches, motivators, facilitators, educators).

Kind of like a fashion show where buyers come and check out the various labels. Except I'm not a model, there was no runway, I didn't show any cleavage, I didn't pout, I left my stilettos at home and I'm too hairy.

Okay, nothing like a fashion show at all.

Craig on show.

Here's how it went down.

The ex-bodybuilder, the Hollywood suit (I looked very grown-up), the 'razzle dazzle' auditorium, the lighting people, the sound people, the tech people, the ushers and the people whose job it was to sit there and evaluate my performance.

Quite the scene.

Three hundred (ish) 'buyers' in the audience. Eight speakers... I'm the first up.

"Mmm... okay, get it out of the way", I tell myself.

The MC (who's a well known comedian in Melbourne) gets up and proceeds to tell the audience how to 'score' the speakers with their electronic scoring gadgets (everyone was given what looked like a large TV remote when they walked into the auditorium).

"Good morning everyone. At the conclusion of each presentation today it is your job to rate our presenters somewhere between poor and outstanding (there was six rating option buttons) using your electronic scoring thingy (it had a name that I can't remember)... if, for example, Craig Harper our first speaker is crap, you would simply press the green button which represents a below average performance."

For once, I'm not being funny; he actually said that. I felt physically sick.

Of course he's a comedian, and yes he was trying to be being funny... but no, in that moment I wasn't embracing the frivolity of the situation.

Call me boring.

Mr. I-never-get-nervous... was crapping himself.

Sitting there knowing that everybody in the room had come along to judge my performance, to rate me with the TV remote thingy and then to make a decision about putting me on their shopping list (or not) was... uncomfortable.

Times ten.

For the first time in... forever, I was genuinely nervous. I went to the toilet four hundred and nine times in the thirty minutes before my gig... and had a resting heart rate of three hundred and sixteen.

Anyway, the short version is that I got through the presentation relatively unscathed. No-one threw anything at me, no-one left the room and I only offended maybe sixty people (quite good for me).

But it was interesting for me to have those feelings again.

The reason I tell this story today is because I meet so many people who th

Quite the scene.

Three hundred (ish) 'buyers' in the audience. Eight speakers... I'm the first up.

"Mmm... okay, get it out of the way", I tell myself.

The MC (who's a well known comedian in Melbourne) gets up and proceeds to tell the audience how to 'score' the speakers with their electronic scoring gadgets (everyone was given what looked like a large TV remote when they walked into the auditorium).

"Good morning everyone. At the conclusion of each presentation today it is your job to rate our presenters somewhere between poor and outstanding (there was six rating option buttons) using your electronic scoring thingy (it had a name that I can't remember)... if, for example, Craig Harper our first speaker is crap, you would simply press the green button which represents a below average performance."

For once, I'm not being funny; he actually said that. I felt physically sick.

Of course he's a comedian, and yes he was trying to be being funny... but no, in that moment I wasn't embracing the frivolity of the situation.

Call me boring.

Mr. I-never-get-nervous... was crapping himself.

Sitting there knowing that everybody in the room had come along to judge my performance, to rate me with the TV remote thingy and then to make a decision about putting me on their shopping list (or not) was... uncomfortable.

Times ten.

For the first time in... forever, I was genuinely nervous. I went to the toilet four hundred and nine times in the thirty minutes before my gig... and had a resting heart rate of three hundred and sixteen.

Anyway, the short version is that I got through the presentation relatively unscathed. No-one threw anything at me, no-one left the room and I only offended maybe sixty people (quite good for me).

But it was interesting for me to have those feelings again.

The reason I tell this story today is because I meet so many people who th

Of course he's a comedian, and yes he was trying to be being funny... but no, in that moment I wasn't embracing the frivolity of the situation.

Call me boring.

Mr. I-never-get-nervous... was crapping himself.

Sitting there knowing that everybody in the room had come along to judge my performance, to rate me with the TV remote thingy and then to make a decision about putting me on their shopping list (or not) was... uncomfortable.

Times ten.

For the first time in... forever, I was genuinely nervous. I went to the toilet four hundred and nine times in the thirty minutes before my gig... and had a resting heart rate of three hundred and sixteen.

Anyway, the short version is that I got through the presentation relatively unscathed. No-one threw anything at me, no-one left the room and I only offended maybe sixty people (quite good for me).

But it was interesting for me to have those feelings again.

The reason I tell this story today is because I meet so many people who think that people who do what I do for a living are always supremely confident, never panic, never make mistakes, are always in control and that everything comes (relatively) easy to us.

It doesn't. I have been awake since three o'clock this morning because I couldn't stop thinking, planning, visualising or anticipating the showcase. My body was exhausted but mind was already doing the presentation.

As I've said once before on this site, everyone from Doctor Phil to Oprah and everyone in between has issues, doubts, fears and insecurities. We don't see them (the issues) because we don't really see them (the private person).

We see the 'public version' of them. Understandably.

Doctor Phil (for example) is an educated, talented, perceptive, amazing communicator and teacher but don't confuse those skills and qualities with..... "Doctor Phil has no issues, no hang-ups, no self-doubt, no fear and doesn't desire the approval of others."

The truth is that high achievers do what they do despite that internal dialogue, despite those fears, despite their issues and despite their self-doubt.

Some of the most insecure, self-doubting people I've met are also high profile, successful, well-known identities. But they do their 'job' very well.

The concept of waiting until you 'have it all together' before you take that step (whatever the step is for you personally) is a completely dis-empowering and debilitating mind-set which way too many people embrace.

The very thing which limits us, is us; our thinking, our attitudes, our beliefs, our self-loathing, our self-doubt, our fear.

"Craig I really wanna help people... but I need to get everything sorted in my own life first."

No, you don't.

That doesn't mean you need to forget about your own personal development... it means don't wait until you have it all together before you become a teacher, motivator, coach or mentor in your own right. If you wait until you've got it all figured out you'll be a hundred and twelve and still waiting.

In fact helping others and not focusing on your own issues... is quite often the best personal-growth strategy.

So if you're like the hundreds of people who email me for advice on becoming a speaker, motivator, coach or mentor... or you simply want to have a significant positive influence on those in your world, then perhaps today you should stop waiting, rationalising and thinking... and go make a difference.

Despite your issues.