If you thought people with high-profile jobs didn’t suffer with nerves like the rest of us, then think again
I’ve long been suspicious of confident people. People who glide into a room as if freshly oiled, their gaze level, their thoughts scrubbed and shaved and camera-ready. I look for the tell, the quiver, or moment when their voice accidentally goes French. Only when I find it, that ungrouted crack, can I relax into their moment. And if not? I forget to listen so stuck am I on obsessing over their ability to be comfortable when they are, like all of us, sitting on a pin cushion while a sniper stalks them from the street.
I’m particularly impressed (baffled, scared) by those who thrive when a camera is on them. Who thrive, rather than (as I do) disintegrate, internal organs collapsing into a rich mulch that coats their bowels and throat, their face falling, too, giving the impression that they are entirely without gorm and perhaps also a bit on fire. I battle with this, though only slightly, with limp wrists.
Continue reading...from US news | The Guardian https://ift.tt/1Zwv3jN