What A Broken Ankle Has Taught Me About Public Speaking

This Tuesday will be my eight week mark of healing my broken ankle. Both the tibia and fibula of my right leg were fractured.

If for a moment you thought a broken ankle is a cake walk, let me tell you, it’s not. Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

The fateful morning has left me a bit traumatized and I’m just now coming to terms with the drama.

I was alone at a remote location when it happened and thankfully (after crawling up 40 stairs) was able to contact Mr. T who called the Coast Guard to rescue me.

I was strapped in a basket and hauled back down the 40 stairs, packed aboard a hovercraft, manhandled up a ladder (at low tide), and then delivered via ambulance to a local hospital. Phew.

Looking back I must have been in rough shape – I had an unheard of three day stay in hospital. I was sent home with an Rx for morphine and best wishes. Yes, the first three weeks home back at home are foggy.

My ankle is now a bucket of bolts, pins, and metal sheaths.

Today was the first day that I hobbled sans crutches. There was nothing gracious about my gait but I felt like I had sprouted wings.

You can imagine how much time for introspection has been part of healing, can’t you? Many hours with my foot above my heart and tears shed in frustration.

What have I learned?

Be in the moment – something I often share with clients and readers. Don’t look ahead or behind and simply be. Feel the floor with your feet and own it and that space in time. That’s what separates good public speakers from the utterly fabulous. When I was descending the stairs I wasn’t in the moment. I was on autopilot and that is why I tumbled.

People want to help. Sometimes we simply don’t heed sage advice from those who have already travelled the same road. We want to do it our way – fair enough. But sometimes experience does know better. From the public speaking aspect when your peers or coach suggest another way – try it – you may be glad you did. From the broken ankle perspective I wanted to remain independent and drove myself to frustration akin to a two year old having a temper tantrum. As the women at the farmers market told me: “It is the ultimate gift when one can be of help (service)”.

No pain, no gain. We’ve all bombed on stage but we choose whether to pick ourselves up, learn, and try again. I was told to wear the damn boot for two more weeks and I have not been the most compliant patient on that front, which has caused midnight foot throb (and trips to the Advil bottle) but I am ahead of where I was told I would be at week eight.

Wounds, ego, and the psyche heal. I have two ankle zippers to prove it – show me your scars and I’ll show you mine. On second thought, that’s okay, no old crony comparing war wound stuff. ;D

To your voice,

Janice

Tags: Life lessons, public speaking