After a very rough start, I consider my life to be pretty successful. I’ve overcome a great many challenges, and although there continues to be more, I’m happy to say I don’t run away like I used to, or bury my head in the sand and pretend it will all go away. For many of us, public speaking or performance brings out the worst anxiety, and can send us into panic or running in the opposite direction.

Public speaking is one of the biggest fears many of us have to deal with. It’s tied up with the usual suspects like rejection, humiliation, credibility, self-worth, etc. But here’s the thing. It’s all nonsense because fear is imagination based, and we are generally wrong in our assessment of what could happen when we show up to do something outside our ’safety’ zone.

So I wanted to share with you one of my journeys to get beyond the fear and hope it will inspire you to take on the challenge of your next public presentation.

I was standing on the stage with my mouth dry, my palms sweating and my breath caught in my throat. Eight hundred people at Royce Hall in Los Angeles for Rosh Hashanah services staring at me, waiting for me to open my mouth, and all I could think was, “what are you doing?”

I told myself I had practiced the prayer for months, had developed my singing voice to an acceptable degree, and was well prepared. But it didn’t make me feel any better. I felt foolish and inadequate, which wasn’t an unusual feeling. I had felt that way most of my life. But I was here, and there was no turning away. I took a tight breath, and the words and music began to flow from my mouth.

The first few notes were strained. I tried not to concentrate on the number of people there, but instead, looked for my husband who was sitting with my daughters in the fourth row. He was smiling with a look of immense pride on his face. The song was L’chi Lach, a prayer from God to acknowledge how much of a blessing we are and can be. I was being blessed right then with this very special occasion, but I was so afraid of forgetting the words, of missing a note, of sounding bad in front of all these people. I could feel the Rabbi and the Cantor behind me, sending me their love as I sang, and as the notes unfolded, I felt my body relax and the sound began to soar. I was caught in the beauty of the moment, in the melody and the pleasure I got from singing. I was in heaven.

The song finished and although it’s not the custom to applaud during religious services, I could see the smiles on people’s faces, my husband and daughters beaming back at me, and when I turned to walk back to my seat on stage, the Rabbi and the Cantor gave me a kiss on the cheek as I walked by and said ‘well done’.

As I sat down my whole body went into a state of tension release, quivering from head to toe. The woman sitting next to me leaned over and said, “you were terrific.” I smiled weakly through shivering teeth, aware of the happiness exploding within me. This was a fearless moment, and although it would still challenge me to sing publicly, there would be many more opportunities to enjoy the thrill.

There have been many more opportunities. I joined Toastmasters, I give workshops and seminars, and I have sung in front of thousands of people over the years. I love it. It doesn’t mean the nerves don’t show up, but I’m confident now that I know what I’m talking about, I can carry a tune without blushing, and when I make mistakes, it’s only my humanity showing nothing else.

Sam Keen, author of Fire in the Belly said “Fear is the sharp edge of excitement”

I love living on the edge. It’s what makes life exciting, and it drives me to explore all the facets of my experiences so I can truly embrace all that I can be. How do you feel about that? I’d love to hear from you.