There are a lot of phenoms out there who are prolific, cutting edge and ahead of their class. But there are far fewer legends—people who string it together consistently over many, many years, appearances, and efforts. From sports to art to business, it’s common to find uncommonly good people; it’s uncommon to find those that are good all the time, over time.
Perhaps in no field is the pay value on originality greater than in comedy. Comedians are notorious for burning through tons of jokes, stories and perspectives in a night—let alone a month or year. Yet there are those—George Carlin comes to mind—who have managed to sustain decades-long careers in comedy and still keep it fresh every time, often even on the same tour.
What does it truly take to be original, even as we age and settle into our beliefs and perspectives about the world? How could it be possible to remain truly fresh, to always have, as the Zen teacher Shunryu Suzuki calls it, “a beginner’s mind”: a constant openness to new ideas, new ways of seeing things, new ways of experiencing the world around us?
Experience, we have to acknowledge, is the foundation of originality. Those who experience more have better stories. We all have that friend who has traveled the world, taken risks, always prioritized play over work and responsibility, and we always feel sheepish and boring in their presence as they tell their stories. It’s not to say that we should all rip our ties off and fly to Mexico (though, now that we mention it…), but there’s something to be said about someone who has a true willingness to experience life without prejudice and without judgment.
When presenters do this, everything in the world around them becomes original material for the story they’re trying to tell. Whether it’s the most niche narrative in the world, the open-minded and experience-oriented presenter finds material for the next deck in everyday life. Just like a comedian, the barrier to trying out great content is almost nonexistent. You just stand there, and try it. They like it; they don’t like it. You take note and move on.
Many of us spend so much time agonizing about what the audience will think about that innovative, original or ambitious approach that we end up doing the worst thing of all: stripping down our presentation to a fairly bland, easily forgettable presentation that doesn’t ruffle any feathers, doesn’t get us in trouble, certainly doesn’t bruise our ego, but also doesn’t let us taste the power of true endeavor. We are firm believers in the concept that the biggest loss any one person or company suffers every month is not visible on the P&L or paycheck; it’s the lost opportunities, the cost of standing still.
The next time you’re coming up on a big gig, take a moment to dream big about the story you’re going to tell. Think about what you’ve said already, what you’ve been saying for the last year, five years, decade or more. Are you regurgitating the same old stuff time after time? Even if your principles are timeless, don’t they deserve to be shared in new and exciting ways time and time again?
Question: How can you work more originality into your presentations?