Spectacle and the Spectacular

A juggling orator, swag that could make Oscar attendees blush, a keynoter with a bone through his head, and an all-you-care-to-eat candy buffet continue to rove around in my head as slightly disconcerting images from Friday's daylong seminar, which occasionally seemed more like indoctrination than motivation. The "Inspiring from Within" conference planners nailed the "inspiring" part, walking the fine line between spectacle and the spectacular with keynote speakers Dan Thurmon and Michael Kerr. As I described the actions and content of these two speakers to someone that evening, he replied, "You sound like you've been brainwashed," which made me stop short and rethink my response to the day's substance. If the conference's title meant that I would be changed, rejuvenated, restored, and that I could accomplish all that from within, with my own gumption, and apply it to my working life, then the two keynoters overloaded me on the "inspiring" and sometimes failed a little bit for me on the "from within" part. These two high-energy performers, a busking lecturer and a prop-comedian who motivates, felt like an overload to see on one day, for me. One flashy to pump us up before heading into the daylong conference always works before long sessions of sitting, but I probably would have enjoyed the closer more who presented a message that really tied in with the conference title, gave us more concrete examples of how we could use what we had learned during the course of the day to find that inspiration from within on a daily basis instead of having to attend a jump-starting annual event.


Having seen only a few motivational work speakers live (unless a Billy Graham sermon counts), I may not be the best judge of this particular event's success. But growing up as a Baptist, and having attended many evangelical baptist church services, I know that when a keynoter who does backward, standing somersaults and juggles while atop a six-foot unicycle fails to receive a standing ovation, he might not have been the best choice of motivator for that particular crowd. Granted, first-thing in the morning on a Friday presents challenges for any performer; however, his actions were spectacular without claiming a single "Woo!" from the audience, that I recall.


Dan Thurmon, the juggling, acrobatic speaker, spoke about the reality of all life being lived "off balance," requiring constant adjustments, which he helped us all visualize with his handstand on the rickety podium (too dangerous to enjoy seeing! for me, anyway) and his ride around the crowded room on the six-foot unicycle. Thank goodness I was taking copious notes all day because mostly what I retained of his performance are images of dangerous stunts and a renewal of my wish to avoid buskers. He stressed the fallacy of multitasking, which I read about in stories responding to a Stanford report, by explaining that juggling is not multitasking, rather when he juggles he completes one task at a time with excellence, and then the next task with excellence, just really really fast.

After 2 breakout sessions (will blog about those successful, and definitely inspiring, workshops later) and a superb luncheon, we gathered to round off the day with the final keynote by Michael Kerr, who advocates bringing more humour into the workplace. I can get behind his message, but by the end of a day of pretending to be interested in everything that so many different people were saying at me and smiling and smiling and smiling at everybody because you're supposed to be pleasant at an event filled with your work colleagues, I found Kerr's content and approach a little exhausting. I have a sense of humour, don't get me wrong: some of my favourite experiences in life have been at improv comedy outings, watching silly movies like Nacho Libre, and raucous karaoke nights. Kerr's prop comedy amused us all, and his enthusiasm and delivery received "Woos!" from the audience at the end (but again no standing ovation). One of the "Woo!"-ers was me, I must confess, owing to his infectious love of what he was doing and his genuine desire to help us all find more in life to laugh about.


Beyond the silly props (an unlit torch, a flower-petal headband, a rubber chicken; yes, a rubber chicken), Kerr delivered an important message that did reach us through his spectacle of mussed hair and wild facial expressions: having fun can create an inspiring workplace, and we all have the power to choose our attitude. Ouch! I need to remind myself of that on most mornings, especially during proofs-correction week. Emotions and attitudes are contagious, another good reminder that I might have to post on my bulletin board in my office for my own daily reminder, as I find myself occasionally feeling and acting a little sour, a little acerbic in my middle age. His key point for me was "Reframe" wherein we again all have a choice about how we react to a situation. Adopting a healthy perspective of positivity and learning to see and enjoy the accidentally funny in your environment can certainly turn around your attitude about life and work. Luckily for me (because my brain seems to be on idle too often lately), he offered concrete suggestions of how to reframe and relax and celebrate the fun parts of your daily life. Those examples and solutions and tips are the best part of any keynote speech: inspire and then guide too. I won't list them here, but the prompts for incorporating more humour into the workplace were spectacular, and I highly recommend Kerr as a speaker for any motivational event.


There, did I sound indoctrinated just now? I keep returning to my reaction at the end of the day and how describing the spectacle of the events to someone who wasn't there stressed the showy, the curiosity, the inculcation of positivity that obliterates the need to think for oneself. In my first attempt at describing the day's speakers and events, I failed to relate the spectacular ("having a quality that thrusts itself into attention"), the vivid impressions, the substance mixed in with the show, what the keynoters said that could have inspired some sort of change in me. After the conference, I was definitely inspired, not by the spectacle, but by the keynoters enthusiasm, commitment, and enjoyment of their chosen work. Their wholehearted engagement with their job, with the audience, with life, defined "spectacular," and that's what I ended up really wanting to share with anyone who asked me about the conference.