Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining
My brother Jim, who was a lover of storms, was more at home with the elements than he was with people. As the stories progressed, his essence began to emerge as the mysterious changing qualities of the moon. Dan was compassionate and generous. His bright light was personified by the sun. A silver and gold thread began to shine through the dullness of my grief and weave itself through the stories. The mythical presence of Jim and Dan, expressed through dreams, symbols, and the coincidences that my family and I shared, supported me in my grief and became the signposts out of it. ~ From “The Jim and Dan Stories”
“Two words,” I said to my husband as we were walking through the front door of Sal’s Restaurant, ready for a late supper.
“Cue cards,” I blurted out.
It was 9:00, and we had just come from the Radford University grief and loss class that is using my book, “The Jim and Dan Stories,” as part of their curriculum. I was the guest speaker, and Joe was telling me what a good job I had done. For once I didn’t deflect his feedback.
It was the 3rd time I had spoken to a class of Radford University counseling students in the last 2 years, and so I suppose my improved public speaking abilities could be due to the fact that I’m finally getting the hang of it, but it was also the first time I used noted index cards, and I think they helped immensely.
In “The Jim and Dan Stories,” I mentioned my ongoing fear of public speaking, so this group of 16 who had all read the book, smiled knowingly when I shuffled my index cards and began our hour-and-a-half together by saying, “I write better than I talk.”
Having my husband, a former counseling student who enjoys speaking to groups, by my side gave me an added boost of confidence. Although he injected less than he has in the past, he was able to overview the direction of the presentation, gauge the responses of students, and remind me to slow down when necessary. He also logged onto my webpage and blog and displayed them on a screen for everyone to see.
The evening included a show-and-tell of newspaper articles about the book, photographs, a scrapbook, and emails and letters from readers. My index card notes of talking points included headings such as; How the Book Came About, The Shadow Epilogue, The Turning Point in My Grief Process, What has happened since Writing the Book, The Hull Village Reunion, and Grieving My Father’s Death. When my mind either went blank or became overloaded with what I wanted to say, I could glance down at my index cards and stick to my own script. Other times, I could refer back to them, after having veered off into a class-led discussion.
In the chance that the students might be hesitant to be vocal, I came equipped with a short series of questions that past readers had asked and a few questions that I like to ask readers, but I didn’t need to use them. The class, mostly women of various ages, was welcoming, intimate, and engaging.
In closing, I read “The Black Feather,” an account of a recent transpersonal experience related to my father’s death in November. By the look of the wet eyes in the room and by the feel of the hugs at the end of the evening, I knew it was a worthwhile shared experience, one that I would find myself thinking about later.
On my way out of the building, a woman who had been in the class but had not spoken a word approached me shyly and asked, “Just how did you conquer your fear of public speaking? I’m not even able to speak up in class.”
“I’m still working on it,” I answered. “The more I do it, the easier it gets. But it’s never easy, even with cue cards,” I told her.
Outside, I emerged, feeling like I had passed a milestone. Looking up, I noticed that the sky was filled with an amazing formation of large clouds. Seeing them, outlined by the gold of the setting sun, I instantly thought of my brother Jim, the weatherman, and my golden-hearted brother Dan. The clouds were like a “thumbs up” from them and a visual validation of something I had just said in the class. Death doesn’t only take away. Because Jim and Dan lived and because I wrote about them, so much love and insight has been given, received, and shared.
July 2nd, 2006 9:32 pm
Lovely post, I’d already been here tonight but then when I went to Micheles & saw you were next on the meet & greet I knew I had to say hi. I understand all about loss of family as you may remember, my Brother died by his own hand in 1989 & my Father died the same way in 2001. with hindsight being 20/20 I realize now that not mourning my Father due to my anger at him for not being there for my daughter & I caused me to be close to crazy for a few years after his death. I can say that either way time does bring resolution & acceptance.
July 2nd, 2006 10:12 pm
You truly have turned a sad set of occurrences into a silver lining. I am sure they are looking down on their sister Colleen and being glad they had you in their family.
Thanks for the visit; it isn’t the first time I have posted that pic. There is another one somewhere, of your wedding, but it was posted after the 20-minute wedding post.
July 3rd, 2006 12:07 am
Back again, via Michele this time. I didn’t want you to be skipped, since we posted at the same time.
July 3rd, 2006 2:53 am
Beautiful post Colleen. I think it is wonderful and meaningful that you have taken your grief and loss and turned it into something that not only has helped you, but continues to help others…It was C.S. Lewis who said “We read to know we are not alone”? Here it is, Colleen…People who read your book, or hear you lectire, etc., are not as alone as they may have thought they were before they read your book. Brava, my dear Colleen.
I love that you dreamt you came to Los Angeles!
July 3rd, 2006 7:40 am
Lovely post as always. Note cards are great… but I have to get the really big ones so I can see my writing…. it’s hard growing old at times.
July 3rd, 2006 8:56 am
Nice post. I do a lot of public speaking, but find that if I’m not a bit nervous going in, I’ll screw up. I need the energy that the nervousness gives me and it seems that when I’m self-assured, I’m liable to make an ass of myself because I probably know less than I think I do. Speaking and humility go together, at least in my book.
July 3rd, 2006 9:13 am
Congrats to you on your latest milestone. In college I attempted to bribe my Speech Prof….just give me a “C” and let’s call it even…because I just couldn’t do the final speech in front of an entire class. I did…and shook all the way through it. But in my late 30’s, all of a sudden, public speaking became easier. And now…yes, I’m still nervous at first, but I’m so much more at ease. Those little notes help, but the more I do speaking engagements for my books, I find the less I need them. (I also have a quirk of holding onto my ink pen in one hand…it seems to calm me down and helps a lot)
So good for you!
July 3rd, 2006 9:35 am
My nervousness is sometimes directly related to the size of the audience. A group of 16 is small enough, plus they were sitting in a circle around me, which is more comforting than some other scenerios.
You holding your pen, Terri, for comfort reminds me of one of my previous posts where holding the vulture feather felt like holding my father’s hand.
July 3rd, 2006 11:37 am
I think you speak for many people when you write about your experience in summoning the courage to get through a public speaking event. I had to give several speeches in college and it always made me nauseous. My own speech is not like others, so everyone always notices the difference immediately. Your husband sounds like an absolutely wonderful “supporting cast” as well!
And most of all, I really love the the way you write. Your story about Jim and Dan is so melodic and fluid- I am sure they must be listening from above and guiding you along.
July 3rd, 2006 11:53 am
Congrats, even if you think you write better than you talk!! beautiful description, beautiful cloud scenery. Happy 4th of July!
July 3rd, 2006 9:42 pm
Your blog and website also help tell the story about Jim and Dan and who you are (and who you are becoming). Joe is an angel for having thought of having it aid you. The cue cards are a great idea too.
You’ll be ready for Oprah soon.
July 3rd, 2006 10:02 pm
Michele sent me.
I can’t say that I enjoy public speaking but it’s never bothered me really. I have spoken in front of some very large groups before, in a lot of ways the really big groups are easier because they’re less personal.
July 3rd, 2006 10:49 pm
Hi Colleen
How beautiful that you can take tragedy and make it something that can help others.
July 3rd, 2006 11:10 pm
I think it is wonderful the way you help people. What a nice gift.
July 4th, 2006 2:14 am
Congratulations on a great post and your successful speaking engagement. I’m glad that I don’t have to test my fear of public speaking. I’ll just assume I would be just as nervous as I was in school, which was pretty insanely nervous.
July 4th, 2006 2:44 am
Congratulations on being able to work through your fear. I hate public speaking. I have no problem voicing my opinions but cant stand public speaking. I think its great that you are able to do it and work through it so far!
July 5th, 2006 4:46 pm
I truly love this post, Colleen. Everything about it is so real, so intensely felt, so ultimately hopeful. Silver linings are everywhere. Thanks for the reminder that we should take a moment to look for them, every single day.