I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to show up well.
Not perfectly. Not flawlessly. But fully present.
Giving a talk at the Compassion Revolution was one of the biggest moments of my year—nine scenes, dozens of rehearsals, lines I’d memorised like poetry.
​
And still…
It didn’t go exactly to plan.

Not in a cynical way. In a generous one.
Because the best presentations aren’t about us. They’re about the people listening.

💡 ONE IDEA WELL

They never knew.

On the night before my Compassion Revolution talk, I couldn’t sleep.
My body was still.
My brain was pacing.

Even after all the rehearsals, the run-throughs, the scene-by-scene memorisation—I couldn’t stop going over it.

And then, on the day…

I still got parts of it wrong.

Lines came out in the wrong order.
Transitions I’d drilled dozens of times rearranged themselves mid-delivery.
A few phrases—ones I’d spent weeks crafting—never made it out of my mouth.

And yet…
no one noticed.

In fact, people told me they loved the pacing.
That the pauses made them feel seen.
That they appreciated the space to take it all in.

What they heard as intention was, at times, me quietly searching for the next beat.

What they experienced as connection was me holding the silence long enough to feel grounded again.

And that’s the strange truth about performance:
🎭 What’s happening inside often looks completely different on the outside.

🔍 WHAT I GOT RIGHT

Despite the skipped lines and rearranged scenes, here’s what went well:

✅ I hit every key point I wanted to make.
✅ The talk had a strong beginning and a clear, resonant ending.
✅ The rhythm was steady—neither rushed nor meandering.
✅ The audience stayed with me. I could feel it in the stillness.

🧭 ASK YOURSELF THIS

There was a line I meant to say—one I’d rehearsed dozens of times.

​
I forgot it on stage.

But here’s the twist: in that moment, as I stood searching for my next line, that’s exactly what I was doing.
Breathing in the swirl of adrenaline and imperfection.
Breathing out presence, stillness, calm.
Holding space for others—even as I fumbled through my own uncertainty.

​

And now, after the applause and the reflections and the flight home, maybe it’s time to offer myself a little of that same compassion.

​

💡 TRY THIS

Next time you give a talk—or have an important conversation—remind yourself:

🎯 The goal is not perfection. It’s connection.​

Nobody has a script in their hands.
hey won’t notice the line you missed, only the presence you brought.
​

​
​
Speak soon,

Andy