Public Speaking Hypnosis: The Calm Before the Mic

Welcome. Before we begin, let me tell you what this session is and what it isn't. It isn't a pep talk. It isn't a list of tips about where to put your hands or how to project your voice. What this is, is a quiet rehearsal. A chance for your nervous system to practice something it may have forgotten how to do, which is to stand in front of people, and stay in itself. You have something coming up. A presentation. A pitch. A toast. A panel. Maybe a keynote. And every time you think about it, there is a small drop in your stomach, a small tightening in your chest, a rush of rehearsal in your mind. That is not a character flaw. That is simply a pattern your body has learned. In the next little while, we're going to meet a future version of you. The you who has already done this. The you who has already stepped up to the mic and spoken well. And we're going to borrow their body-state. Their breath. Their posture. Their ease. You don't have to believe any of it right now. You just have to let your eyes close, and let my voice do the work.

So let your eyes close now. And take one slow breath in. And a longer breath out. Let the weight of your body settle. Whatever you are sitting on, or lying on, let it hold you. You don't have to hold yourself up right now. Something else is doing that. Notice the places where your body meets what's beneath it. The backs of your legs. Your shoulders. The back of your head. And let each of those points soften, just a little. Now bring your attention to your jaw. And let it unclench. Let the space between your teeth widen. Let your tongue rest low in your mouth. Soften the small muscles around your eyes. Soften your forehead. Soften the space between your eyebrows. And now your shoulders. Let them drop away from your ears. Further than you thought they could. Your chest. Your belly. Let the breath fall in and out on its own, without you managing it. With every exhale, a little more of the tension you've been carrying about this upcoming talk, simply slides off your body. Not forever. Just for now. You can pick it up again later if you want to. But right now, in this room, there is nothing you have to prepare for. Nothing you have to rehearse. Nothing you have to prove. Just the sound of my voice. And the slow, soft rhythm of your breath. Going in. And out. Deeper with every word. Softer with every breath.

And now, in your mind's eye, I want you to see a long, quiet hallway. The light is warm. The floor is soft beneath your feet. At the far end of this hallway, there is a single door. And behind that door, there is a room. And in that room, waiting for you, is a future version of you. This is the version of you who has already done the thing you're worried about. Who has already given the talk. Already delivered the pitch. Already raised the glass and spoken from the heart. And it went well. Not perfectly. Not flawlessly. But well. They were calm. They were present. They sounded like themselves. As you walk down this hallway, you can almost feel the air changing. It becomes lighter. Easier to breathe. The weight you've been carrying in your stomach about this upcoming moment, it gets a little lighter with each step. Because you're walking toward someone who knows how this ends. And it ends well. You reach the door. You rest your hand on the handle. And you feel, underneath your palm, a quiet certainty. This future self has been waiting for you. They are not a stranger. They are you, just a little further down the road.

Before you open that door, we're going to take you deeper. I'm going to count down from ten to one. And with each number, you'll drop further into a calm, steady state. The kind of state a seasoned speaker rests in, just before they walk on stage. Ten. Breath slowing. Nine. Shoulders dropping. Eight. Stomach softening. Seven. The small, anxious voice in your head getting quieter. Six. The room growing still around you. Five. Halfway down now. Four. Feet planted. Heart steady. Three. So calm, so grounded, so quietly ready. Two. Almost there. One. You are deeply, comfortably settled now. The kind of settled that a person gets when they know, in their body, that they are about to do something they are capable of doing. And from this place, you open the door.

You step into the room. And there they are. Your future self. The one who has already given the talk. Take a moment to really see them. Notice their posture. See how their weight is evenly distributed between both feet. See how their shoulders rest down and back, open, not braced. Look at their face. The jaw is soft. The eyes are alive but unhurried. There is a small, easy smile, not performed, just present. Look at their hands. They are not clenched. They are not hiding. They are simply resting, or gesturing naturally. And now, watch their breath. Slow in. Slow out. Low in the belly. A breath that says, I have time. This is the body-state of a person about to walk up to the mic. This is what calm looks like from the inside. Now your future self looks at you. And without words, they invite you to step into them. To try their body on, like a coat. So you walk forward. And you step in. And immediately, you feel it. The planted feet. The dropped shoulders. The slow, low breath. The soft jaw. The eyes that are not scanning for danger, but simply present. This is yours now. This is how you walk toward the stage. This is how you wait in the wings. This is how you stand at the front of the room before you begin. And notice, in this body, how the nervous energy still exists, but it feels different. Instead of a fist in your stomach, it is more like a warm current in your chest. Energy. Not threat. Fuel. Not fear. Your mind is quieter here. The rehearsing has stopped. The catastrophizing has stopped. Because this self knows what they are doing. And here is the truth your body is learning right now. You do not have to feel confident to speak well. You only have to stand in this body. Planted feet. Slow breath. Soft jaw. Open shoulders. The confidence follows the body. Not the other way around. And so, any time between now and the moment you step up to the mic, your body remembers. It remembers how to drop its shoulders. It remembers how to lower its breath. It remembers how to plant its feet. It remembers how to soften its jaw. And when the wave of nerves arrives, as it may, you do not fight it. You let it pass through this grounded body like weather through a mountain. The mountain does not argue with the weather. The mountain simply stays. You stay. You speak as yourself. Not a polished version. Not a performed version. Yourself. Because yourself, in this body-state, is more than enough. The people in the room do not need perfection. They need presence. And presence is what this body gives. Your voice, from this body, comes out steadier. A little slower. Lower in pitch. Landing on the end of each sentence instead of rushing off it. And if you lose your place, your breath catches you. If a question surprises you, your breath catches you. If the room goes quiet, your breath catches you. Because from now on, your breath is your anchor. And the body-state of your future self is your home.

And now, let's take this into the moment itself. Picture the day of your talk. See where you are. The room, or the stage, or the hall, or the venue. Feel what the air feels like. Hear the low murmur of the people gathering. See the chairs, the lights, the microphone. Notice your body. Feet planted. Shoulders dropped. Breath low. Jaw soft. You are in the body of your future self. You have been here, in this body-state, for the past several minutes. It is familiar. It is yours. Now you hear your name. Or you feel the moment arriving. And you walk forward. You take your place. You take one slow, low breath. You look at the room. You feel your feet. And you begin. Your first words come out steady. Not perfect. Steady. And the steadiness settles you further. You find your rhythm. You make eye contact with a warm face. You let yourself pause. And the talk unfolds. Not flawlessly. Humanly. Which is exactly what a good talk is. And when you finish, you feel a quiet wave of relief, and pride, and warmth. Because you did it. As yourself. In your own body. With your own breath.

And now it's time to come back. Bringing with you everything your body has just learned. The planted feet. The low breath. The soft jaw. The open shoulders. The quiet knowing that you can stand in front of people and stay in yourself. I'm going to count up from one to five. And with each number, you'll become more awake, more alert, more here. One. Awareness returning to the room around you. Two. Energy moving back into your hands and feet. Three. A small, easy breath in. Four. Eyes beginning to flutter. Mind beginning to brighten. Five. Eyes open. Fully back. Calm, clear, and quietly ready.

In the days leading up to your talk, your mind will return to this body-state on its own. When you feel the old tightening start, simply drop your shoulders, lower your breath, and plant your feet. That's the signal. Your body will follow. The morning of, listen to this session again if you can. And when the moment comes, remember, you are not trying to feel confident. You are simply standing in the body of someone who already knows how to do this. That someone is you. Go well. Speak as yourself. I'll see you next time.