Hi Reader

Fourteen years ago, I thought I had finally figured out public speaking.

For weeks, my world revolved around one speech.

I rewrote it. I rehearsed it. I obsessed over every word, every pause, and every gesture.

It was a key contests. I think it was Division level Speech Contest in Hartford, Connecticut. As the day approached, I could already picture the ending.

I’d walk off the stage.

The results would be announced. And my name would be among the winners.

The day finally arrived.

I poured everything I had into that speech. When the contest ended, the winners were announced.

My name never came.

I didn’t even place.... Needless to say, I was devastated. If you have ever lost contests, you know what I'm talking about. If you have never lost a contest, I feel for you... You have not experienced real growth!

On the drive home, I replayed every minute of my speech, searching for the mistake I couldn’t see.

To clear my head, I stopped at a shopping mall and wandered into a coat store.

Not really shopping. Just trying to escape the disappointment.

As I walked between the racks, my phone rang.

It was from the one person whose opinion mattered more to me than anyone else’s.

His name was Jerry. Jerry Ayyathurai.

He was mentoring me at that time. We had met some months back. I don't know what he saw in me, he was very kind enough to mentor me. I still owe my growth to him. Jerry was one of the kindest human beings I had ever met. He was a multiple-time Connecticut public speaking champion, a TEDx speaker, and someone with an extraordinary gift for analyzing speeches. He could listen to a speech for just a few minutes and identify the one thing everyone else had missed.

More importantly, he never gave feedback to make people feel small. He gave feedback because he genuinely wanted people to grow.

When I saw his name on my phone, I felt relieved.

Finally, someone who would understand.

I’ll be honest…I was feeling sorry for myself. I wanted Jerry to tell me I’d been unlucky. I wanted him to say the judges had made a mistake. I wanted him to reassure me that I’d actually given a great speech. I was looking for comfort.

Instead, after patiently listening to me, he quietly said four words that changed my life.

“Rama, you are not intelligible.”

I froze.

Not intelligible?

How could that be?

I had practiced for weeks.

I knew every sentence by heart.

What did he mean?

At that moment, I didn’t understand. To confess, I did not even know what intelligibility meant. I was disappointed. I was angry. But then, it dawned on me that I don't accept the feedback with humility, I'm never going to grow. Never going to transform.

Over the next fourteen years, I discovered that those five words became the foundation of everything I now teach or write about..

It's become the foundation everything I do. I'll share more about this concept in the next letter.

Until then, let me ask you something.

Have you ever explained something with complete confidence, only to realize the other person didn’t really understand you?

If that has happened to you, just hit Reply and tell me your story.

As always, thanks for being awesome!

Rama