I find myself daydreaming about traveling lately. Mostly I like to imagine what I might be doing in Japan, where I go regularly for work (and one of my favorite places to visit). The weather would just be changing to Autumn, with a crisp breeze in the air as the leaves change. I might be strolling along the Nakameguro River at night, passing young families with strollers and couples walking lovingly arm in arm. Or I could be sipping matcha tea at a quaint cafe while people-watching. David and I would be sitting quietly, listening to other people chatting nearby to see how much Japanese we could understand.

Traditionally David and I would be in Japan for most of October, and my speaking events would been in person. But as we all know, 2020 had other plans for us and international travel is not feasible at the moment.

Instead, I was scheduled to do a live lecture for my Japanese-speaking clients through Zoom. Although I was still excited to teach, I had mixed emotions about it.

It’s been a huge blessing that I can continue doing my work via Zoom with people all over the world. I’m so grateful for the opportunity, but I do love traveling and really miss seeing our friends in Japan.

But this year, we’ve all had to pivot and get creative. And for me this meant speaking to an audience all over Japan, from my home office.

Turns out, parts of the experience are pretty much identical to how it works in a theater. I had a call time to review the topics for the talk. I greeted my Japanese colleagues as well as my translator Tomomi. We tested our audio to make sure the microphones worked. All of these boxes would’ve been checked whether I was in person or not.

But other things were about as different as they could possibly be, and not just because I was “Zoom Groomed” (professional attire from the waist up, sweatpants from the waist down). Due to the way this lecture was set up, I would not be able to see any audience members. I discovered that the only face I’d be seeing on screen was my own. I was then told I had ten minutes before we were ready to begin.

Normally this is where I would be backstage pacing back and forth. Pacing is what I often do when I’m nervous. And by the way, I am ALWAYS nervous before public speaking. If you’ve ever hesitated to speak publicly because of anxiety, please know that everyone has those same feelings to some degree. Nervousness comes from the same emotional place as excitement, but many of us don’t realize how interchangeable they are.

On this night, “backstage” was my kitchen. I paced back and forth as I always do, which felt comforting yet totally odd. It felt out of place, like I went to the bank expecting to buy groceries. Feeling that nervous energy in a theatre can be a great mood booster — if you can believe that. I can usually hear the hum of the audience as they take their seats. Last minute details are being handled backstage and creative energy is crackling in the air. But this was completely different. I was in my silent kitchen getting ready to give a lecture.

David turned on some music and we did a little silly dancing in the living room to lift the energy. At the two minute mark I announced to no one in particular:

“Places Everyone!”

I went into my office, sat down at my desk and logged back into Zoom.

There is something very surreal about giving a lecture while only seeing a video of yourself. Typically at an event, I can make eye contact with the audience and read the room (no pun intended) to see if they’re connecting with what I’m saying. I can see them nod in recognition, or laugh, or perhaps become emotional. But in this case I couldn’t see anyone. I had no idea how many people were in attendance or how they felt. Were there 20 or 200? I literally had no idea.

As I came to the close of my talk, I thanked the event coordinators and my translator Tomomi for doing such an incredible job.

And then I logged off Zoom. My first immediate thought was, I did a great job! I covered all of my talking points, answered the questions that had been submitted to me prior to the talk, and hit my time cues — all things that make me happy.

As I closed my laptop, something felt a little off. And then I realized it. Usually after a talk there is feedback, whether applause or greeting attendees. And to be totally frank, it’s validating to see people nod in agreement or applaud. Typically I would walk back stage and a sound engineer might offer a kind comment as they took my microphone off. After a talk I usually sign books and chat with attendees who came to say hello.

But after this lecture I was alone in my office, with just my own thoughts.

After reflecting on the experience for a moment, it became such a clear reminder that I’m responsible for how I feel. There was literally no chance to seek any outside approval. All I know is how I feel.

I closed my eyes and visualized red energy, which I do when trying to get a clearer picture of how I’m feeling. I put my hands over my heart to ask a simple question: How do you think you did?

And the truth is, I felt TERRIFIC about my talk! I was clear in presenting my ideas. I tried to add a nice mix of humor and silliness while also being candid and honest. I led a meditation and held space for people that submitted questions. Simply put, I felt good.

I went out to the kitchen where David was cooking dinner.

“How did it go? Did the audience like it?”

“I have no idea!” I laughed.

“Well, it sounded good” David said.

The entire experience was an exercise in detachment, and not looking outside of ourselves for validation.

I think many of us are going through some version of this because 2020 has been so different.

For example, my family and I have decided that we’re all going to stay home for the holidays this year, which means that our traditions will be different as well. I will be responsible for generating a sense of joy and comfort. And I get to define what that looks like.

It’s completely natural to look outside of ourselves for validation, connection, community, joy and many other emotions. But at the end of the day, we’re responsible for how we want to feel.

So, now it’s your turn. How do you feel, or more importantly, how do you want to feel? If you’re not entirely sure, red is an excellent color to help you get clearer. When I see red in someone’s aura, it tells me that they’re in touch with their emotions as well as how they want to feel. To try it for yourself, close your eyes for a few moments of deep breathing as you visualize the color red. Then ask yourself the following two questions:

How do I feel? How do I want to feel?

Once the answer becomes clear, use it to guide yourself into alignment with your ideal emotions.

Much Love,