Speech is fleeting; what is written remains

It’s said you almost always know when it’s your first time doing something, but almost never know when it’s your last.

That’s true whichever stage of life you currently find yourself at, be it bubbling up near the beginning or creaking along toward the inevitable end.

But the older you do get, the less likely you are to have any real notable “firsts” anymore. Or at least, those that you do experience become a whole lot less pleasurable.

Gone are the days of first kisses and first dates, for instance, to be replaced by the first time you catch yourself groaning audibly while attempting to extricate yourself from a chair.

So it was with no small amount of trepidation that I took to the stage in Hangzhou, Zhejiang province, last month for China Daily’s second Vision China event, which marked my firstever foray into public speaking.

From the start, it was a somewhat surreal experience. The venue was simply enormous, with a stage-spanning screen and huge speaker stacks that made it look more like the setting for a rock concert.

A few hours before I was due to go on, I had the chance to rehearse my presentation. But hearing my voice reverberate around the cavernous hall did little to allay my fears.

In fact, instead of bolstering my confidence, it only served to set my nerves further on edge. “This is hopeless,” I thought to myself. “If I can’t give a talk to an almostempty room, what hope do I have once the audience arrives?”

And arrive they did. Almost 1,000 of them. Filling out the venue from the front to the very back.

I watched from the sidelines, telling myself I needn’t worry and that everything was going to be A-OK.

But the truth is I was a bag of nerves, right up to and including the point that I was called on stage.

Being the last speaker no doubt worked to my advantage. It gave me time to collect my thoughts and watch how the others fared.

Yet still, when my time came, I froze up almost completely. Mere seconds into my talk, I was at a total loss for words.

My mind went blank and for one brief, panicked moment, I thought I’d forgotten everything. So I just stood there, for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for the cogs to start whirring again.

Luckily, it wasn’t actually that long before my mind rebooted. After a second or two, I’d rediscovered my rhythm and was forging along, full steam ahead.

There were a couple more stumbles, though nothing too serious, and I even managed to end on something of a high note.

So I’ll chalk this one up as a victory, especially if it turns out to be my sole attempt.

Because you never know when it might be your last time doing something. And though I’m certainly not the world’s greatest orator, at least I’ll never have to go through all that for the first time again.

Hearing my voice reverberate around the cavernous hall did little to allay my fears.