How many times can the American

public be told that there’s a possibility

that they will be blown up, nuked, or

contaminated by a deadly disease or

substance before they give up?

‍

How often will we all be able to endure

the statement that this “war on terrorism”

will last for the rest of our lives,

extend through our children’s lifetime,

and perhaps even be fought during our

yet unborn grandchildren’s time

here on earth?

‍

Even if you don’t go anywhere the

air may get you. And if you take the

preemptive step to duct tape your abode…

you may smother to death.

That actually happened

to a couple of Israeli families.

‍

When has there ever been a war

without end? The equivalent would be for

the medical community to be

constantly telling us that we will

never beat heart disease,

never cure cancer.

‍

Is the media mad? Or are they simply lazy?

‍

They don’t even attempt

to find news anymore.

They just wait for it to happen.

‍

And lately so do we.

Maybe it’s because we are all worn down.

Maybe it’s because it’s what we have all

grown to expect.

Maybe Marshall McCluan was right

when he said “People watch the

news to make sure that the

eminent disaster has not

happened to them.”

‍

And yet, if someone does

articulate some sort of hopeful

vision we do pay attention…

as long as it’s not creepy.

‍

Hope can’t be:

Vapid.

‍

Hope can’t be:

Happy talk.

‍

Hope can’t be:

Fleeting.

‍

Hope must be:

Rooted in reality.

‍

Hope must have:

Teeth.

‍

Hope must be:

Worth it.

‍

Hope has to be:

Hard.

‍

All great speeches,

no matter how grave the occasion,

have some shred of hope.

‍

Every famous war speech uses hope

to rally the masses.  They also use fear.

Hope often goes hand-in-hand with fear.

‍

If you analyze great calls to arms,

however, hope always seems to have

the final say.

‍

The next time you give

a presentation or deliver a speech

ask yourself this:

‍

“Would I rather watch someone

who is confidently optimistic or

someone who is coldly precise?”

‍

Do we attend a speech to glean

new facts or to be momentarily

transported from our everyday

concerns?

‍

Both.

‍

Now, more than ever,

the transfer of enthusiasm is one

of the most crucial requirements

of the public speaker.

‍

If all you had to do was to recite facts

then you could just as

well email your presentation.

No need for you to “appear.”

‍

Every spokesperson, every presenter,

every corporate executive must now

personify thoughtful optimism.

‍

It is up to us to take the opportunity to reinforce

what Shakespeare’s Henry VI observed:

‍

“Every cloud engenders not a storm.”

‍

Oratory, then, should defy despair.

‍

A live audience will be especially

appreciative if you can lift them

out of the “death and despair” mentality

that has so craftily infected our collective consciousness.

‍

Even if you have to fake it . . .

be optimistic. You’ll feel better

afterward and so will your audience.

‍

As C.S. Lewis wisely put it:

‍

“Joy is the serious business

           of heaven.”