Things fell apart. Now what?

Bunny did not get a concussion, thankfully.

Lemme back up.

A few weekends ago, I spent time with two close friends: Jessie and her daughter Cele. Cele is 2.5 years old, very funny and sweet.

She is also is very strong and athletic. And determined.

I’ve spent time with her regularly during her short spectacular life. She loves to laugh, climb things, and run off with my colorful purse.

The three of us were heading to the park to run around, be silly, and burn off some energy.

Jessie had the big stroller loaded up with all the things – a blanket, snacks, drinks, toys. 

And Cele was ready to go.

She had her soft fluffy bunny and her little pink shopping cart.

Fluffy bunny in cute cart.

To get to the promised land (the park), there were several sets of steps. Going down.

Cele was determined to navigate carrying her cart – with bunny in it – down the concrete stairs. By HERSELF.

Jessie made it downstairs first with the stroller – aka her big purse on wheels.

Then it was Cele’s turn. 

She got half way down and then…something went amiss.

The shopping cart and bunny crashed down to the next level. 

While this was happening, Cele smartly leaned back and ended up safely seated on the step behind her.

We all rallied and got the non-concussed bunny and the cart upright. And Jessie and I started walking towards the park.

But Cele was determined to have a TAKE TWO.

She immediately wanted the cart and bunny to be back up on the top step so she could have a do-over. Period.

We got her set up and watched as she very carefully navigated each step, while carrying her precious cargo.

She got to the bottom and – victorious! – was ready to for the next thing. PARK!

I was impressed. I mean, I’m writing a whole newsletter about this moment!

It would have been very reasonable for her to cry, to be glad those stairs were done, to ask to be carried, to never want to deal with that cart again.

Any of those actions would completely make sense!

But she was DETERMINED to immediately get back up and do it well.

She wanted to have the last word on that experience. Her goal was to experience success. 

So she did it again. Right. Away.

Why am I telling you this?

If you have a presentation experience that feels like a wipeout, I highly recommend taking a note from Cele’s playbook. 

I’m not saying to yell TAKE TWO and make your audience stay as you go through all 37 of your slides again so you can stick the landing.

I am suggesting that as soon as possible – that night, the next day – you do the presentation again. 

It doesn’t have to be in front of anyone.

You could deliver it to a stuffed bunny. 

Or to your dog. Or a supportive partner, friend, or colleague.

This will help you internalize:

You can do it.

That it’s ok to have a learning curve.

That you can be successful.

And it will not allow the temporary wipeout to fester and lead to negative beliefs like:

“I’m a failure.”

“I’ll never be good at this.”

“I’m going to avoid presenting for the rest of my life.”

I promise you, Cele is not avoiding stairs. Or pink carts with a cute bunnies in them. 

She’s not identifying with the wipeout. 

She sees herself as fully capable – even though there was a wipeout.

You, too, can have the last word on your experience.

And the faster, the better.