Patio Pondering: When the Script Sinks the Ship

This morning was supposed to be frosty, but the temps didn’t dip quite far enough. Now the sun is bouncing off the patio, and it promises to be another beautiful day.

I wish I could say my last public speaking experience was just as sunny.

I’ve been working hard to improve my presentation skills. Between the podcast, YouTube videos on communication, and some solo practicing, I’ve felt more confident in my delivery lately. So when I had to speak in front of the county plan commission about a proposed building site I opposed, I thought I had a strong game plan.

My opening was crafted to show both my credibility, with over 25 years in livestock feeding and production, and my local investment as both a farmer and landowner. I wasn’t there just to say "I don’t like it." I had four concise, fact-based points. I’d even woven in the new county wheel tax to strengthen one of my arguments. I thought I was ready.

And then I stepped up to the podium, and it all fell apart.

It started with the microphone being off. That threw me for a second, but the real problem was my approach. I had written out a full script to read.

Here’s the thing. I’m not a read-the-script guy. I do best when I speak naturally, using key points and phrases to guide me. I’m also a walker when I present. I move, I engage. Being anchored to a podium with a sheet of paper in front of me only made things worse. I stumbled. I repeated myself. When I looked up to make eye contact, I lost my place. The confident, prepared communicator I’ve been working to become? He didn’t show up.

That script, meant to support me, became an anchor that pulled me under. And I know I’m not the only one who’s been there.

Still, it showed me something important. If I want to round out my speaking skills, especially for formal settings like public hearings, I need to practice being effective even when I’m stuck behind a podium. That discomfort is a sign of where I still need to grow.

But here’s the other lesson I won’t soon forget: important moments aren’t the time to experiment with unfamiliar tools. Trying something new, like reading from a full script, might be a good skill to build, but it needs to be practiced in lower-stakes environments first. The plan commission wasn’t the place to test-drive a new approach.

Sometimes the tools we think will help us end up tripping us up, especially when they go against how we naturally work. There’s a fine line between pushing ourselves to grow and forcing ourselves into a mold that breaks us down.

How do you balance preparation with staying true to your natural style? When has a “helpful tool” done more harm than good?

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Patio Pondering: They Cared