Practically Speaking, LLC

When the world feels scary and overwhelming, I look to those with universal wisdom to help steady me for waves both perceived and imagined.

"Those who have a 'why' to live can bear with almost any 'how'."

-Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning.

"My mom used to say, when the news is scary, look for the helpers."

-Mr Rogers

Life, for many of us, feels scary with questions that don't have clear answers. It can feel hopeless.

When I don't feel like there's anything I can do to change what's happening in the world, I remind myself that I can, in fact, create change in my small world here in Noblesville, IN.

I can...

-tend to my neighbor who has a preemie in the NICU and could use a hot meal.
-speak words of encouragement to a friend, colleague, or client
(better yet, all three)
-monitor my words and thoughts so I share solutions vs problems and spread light vs dark

If I stop focusing on the chaos and turn my attention to what I can do, right here, right now, for the people around me. I regain a sense of normalcy and control.

Will it change the world? Maybe, maybe not.

But, I believe my tiny acts change a moment of someone else's life, and those moments add up. Over time, the compounding of small good acts turns into a swell of great acts that, at some point we cannot see yet, will change the world.

Bit by bit, never fast enough, but yet somehow right on time.

So, if you're feeling like there is nothing you can do, please let me reassure you that there is, because even if all you can do today is hope, that will be enough.

A project is a set of tasks that must be completed within a defined timeline to accomplish a specific set of goals.

A person is defined as a human being regarded as an individual.

Simple enough, right?

People can't be projects and projects can't be people.

Then why do so many of us treat ourselves like projects?

Here's what it looks like...

"If I get this done, then I'll be happy." (spoiler alert: they're never happy)
Melting down when a goal isn't met on time (vision board didn't work)
Constantly working on the same goal (10 lbs that still isn't lost)
Turning every moment into aS.M.A.R.T. goal (exhausting)
I can't tell you how many clients I have that think if they aren't "working on something" then they don't matter.

Total. Hogwash.

Here's the truth.

You are not a set of tasks.
There is no timeline other than the ultimate timeline.
You are not a goal.

You are an ever-changing, living, breathing being who chooses projects, not the reverse.

Sometimes the best help is letting go of the belief that you need help in the first place.

You are a person, not a project.

Are you a caretaker of the future or a custodian of the past?

This week, I caught a clip of Adam Grant talking on Rain Wilson's podcast, Soul Boom. Adam was talking about how people are getting caught up in being custodians of the past and prioritizing tradition over protecting the future.

Provactive no?

It got me thinking about how much we do because it's the way it's "always been done" or because "so and so would want it this way." And while there's much to be said about upholding the traditions of those who have gone before us, there's also a couple of realities that ought to be considered...

1.) What was right at one time doesn't mean it's right now.
(insert image of rotary phones and horse and buggies)

2.) "So and So" is dead. Not to be harsh here, but sometimes decisions are made based on a dead person's perspective rather than a person living in the current reality. What "so and so" would do isn't relevant because they're not here.

This brings me to two questions we ought to be asking ourselves more often...

1.) Are my decisions right for this time, or a past time?

2.) Who are these decisions for?

The past doesn't care, and dead people don't feel the results, but our kids do. The people we love do. Our friends, colleagues, and their friends. People who need help now.

These thoughts aren't new, but let them serve as a reminder.

The past is over, the future is undecided.

As for our ancestors, I'd like to think they would support us letting go of what no longer serves the greater good.

It doesn’t take an astrophysicist to spot mistakes. Just open social media, typo trackers, grammar cops, and hair-style critics are everywhere.

Work isn’t much different. There’s always someone ready to point out when you misspoke, stumbled on a word, or (gasp) said “um” in a presentation, the horror.

Humans are wired to scan for what’s wrong. That’s handy if you’re in the wild trying to avoid being eaten by a lion. Not so helpful in today’s world, where the only lions you’re likely to encounter are behind glass at the zoo.

It’s tough enough when others pick apart your flaws. But the harshest critic? Usually you. Raise your hand if you’ve ever said, “I’m my own worst enemy.”

A lot of my clients are high achievers. They’ve climbed by believing the harder they push themselves, the better they’ll be. And it worked, until it didn’t. At some point, the biggest obstacle isn’t their skills. It’s the head trash.

That inner critic starts spilling out. In shaky hands. Racing heart. Nervous energy. Stutters, stammers, squeaky voices. The fear of “messing up” takes over the message.

That’s the crossroads: keep feeding the critic or flip the script. Stop asking “What went wrong?” and start asking, “What went right?” Because accountability isn’t just owning mistakes. It’s owning successes, too.

Here’s the truth: when you only focus on flaws, your team feels it. Your audience hears it. But when you ground yourself in what is working, you free your voice. You connect more deeply. You lead more confidently.

So let me leave you with this: when was the last time you stopped, noticed what went right, and owned it?

Because communication isn’t about perfection, it’s about connection. And the more you own what’s right, the more others will trust what you have to say.

When it comes to public speaking, some folks fall in love with their methodology, the slide deck, the bullet points, the “stand here, gesture here” choreography, like it’s their first junior high dance.
And hey, methods are cute. They’ll ask you to dance.

But your audience isn’t here for your process. They’re here for the result. They want to walk away feeling something, knowing something, ready to do something.

The problem? When you’re obsessed with how you’re delivering, you can forget why you’re delivering. You start performing for the method instead of for the people. That’s when your talk starts sounding like an encyclopedia read-aloud.

Listen, I'm not saying don't use a method. For the love, please do. Practice it. Refine it. But be willing to throw it out if it’s not getting you to the outcome you promised. The best speakers aren’t loyal to the script; they’re loyal to the change they want to create.

Method is the steps. The outcome is the dance. And no one really wants to dance alone.

Don’t worry, I’m not actually advocating for eating a protected species. No need to call the ASPCA.

The “eat the pandas” idea came from a comedy class where the teacher told us: Say the ridiculous thing that actually makes sense if you really want to do the thing you say you want to do.

If you want to save pandas? Start eating them.
Why? We have a surplus of cows… and we eat them.

Absurd? Yes.
True? Also yes.

It’s a fresh way of looking at a problem, naming a solution, maybe not the best solution, but a solution nonetheless. And it takes guts to say it out loud.

Play-Doh came from a wallpaper cleaner.
Snuggies=blankets with sleeves.
IKEA made a pregnancy test ad.
Most of us swallow our ideas because we’re afraid of being weird, wrong, or offensive. But when you hold back, what gets lost?

Not exactly world peace, but definitely life-changing for someone.

So next time a wild or wobbly idea pops into your head, say it out loud.
Because the idea you’re afraid to share might be the one that changes everything.

Have you ever watched someone tell a joke to a room full of people and hear the silence?

That was Sam.

Sam was on a panel and trying her best to “keep it light.” So she opens with a joke about hybrid work and participation trophies. She chuckles. The moderator chuckles.

The audience? Crickets.

Not hostile. Not amused. Just blank stares and a few awkward sips of conference coffee.

Ooof.

To her credit, Sam didn’t double down. She didn’t defend.
She paused. She reset. And when it came time for her next question, she started with:

“Okay, note to self, no jokes about remote work before caffeine. Let’s try again.”

And just like that, she was back.

Why? Because she stopped performing and started connecting.

The moment wasn’t about a failed joke. It was about a person remembering that communication isn’t a monologue, it's a dialogue.

So here’s your takeaway: Before you speak, consider your audience. Not just what you want to say, but what they need to hear.

Your cleverness won’t land if your connection doesn’t.

Another story from the chronicles of Carmen's camp counselor adventures.

(For those new here, Carmen is my daughter.)

Good news: This week's curriculum has received a significant upgrade, transitioning from origami frogs to the Universe. The Universe holds much more potential, don't ya think?

This meant Carmen and her troupe of six-year-olds marched across campus to the planetarium to see the stars. The excitement was palpable but short-lived.

Unfortunately, their time at the planetarium was led by an instructor who overestimated his audience's comprehension, lecturing on the nuance between nebula and nebulae and showing a 20-minute video designed for adults.

((sigh))

The kerfuffle that followed required patience and bribery from Counselor Carmie.

Bring on the fruit snacks.

Why am I telling you this story?

Because it's an important reminder that we, as presenters, know our topics better than our audience. It's critical to meet our audience where they are and explain content in terms they can understand.

For example, Nubula=space cloud.

It's hard to go wrong when you use fewer words per sentence, fewer syllables per word, and ditch your jargon.

You'll avoid kerfuffles and save face, and your audience might understand what you're trying to say.

“How do I know when just to listen and when to help?”

Short answer? You probably won’t. Not every time.

Because humans don’t walk around holding up signs that say:

“I’m venting, please nod sympathetically.”

“I need your advice stat!”

“Fix me, but gently.”


(Wouldn't it be fantastic if they did? Sigh... )

But you don’t need perfect instincts or a sign around someone's neck. You just need to pause and ask a question.

Something that sounds like...

“Want me to listen or help?”

Or:

“Do you want space to vent, or some help figuring it out?"

When someone’s overwhelmed, offering “fixes” can feel like a spotlight on what they haven’t done yet, which can add to their stress.

But when they're ready for solutions? Your fixes=pure gold.

If you're not sure despite asking, stay in listener mode until they ask for help. That tiny moment of presence might be the most helpful thing you do all day.

We don’t earn trust by having the answers.

We earn it by asking better questions.

A senior executive told her direct report, who was mid-share and mid-struggle...

"You know you have a choice in how you feel."

Helpful? Technically.
Empathetic? Not even close.

He didn't walk away empowered.
He walked away thinking: "Cool. So my feelings are wrong?"
So much for bonding and trust.

Here's the thing: Emotions aren't a problem to solve.

They're signals. Invitations. Sometimes loud, sweaty messengers in business casual. If someone's opening up to you, they don't need your perspective first. They need your presence.

Try saying something like this instead:

"That makes total sense."
"Want to talk it out or just rage-walk around the building?"
"What would help right now?"
Once they feel heard?

Then invite reflection, growth, and so on. But don't fast forward to "You've got this" until they know you've got them.

You can't coach what you won't witness.

Empathy first. Always.