Get on Stage

Jerry Seinfeld has a famous bit about a study showing that death and public speaking were the top two human fears, but death was #1.

Tuesday night, as I was waiting in the green room at Denver Comedy Works before performing in front of 150 people, I would have rather died. I don’t doubt the results of Jerry’s study.

I’ve performed standup 10+ times over the last year and it's become more of a hobby rather than something I think will lead to any material success.

When I tell people that, they pause, wondering why I’d subject myself to the massive downside of “bombing” on stage (believe me it’s the worst feeling in the world) without hope of some monetary payoff.

The benefits of public performance, at least for me, surpass any morning routine with the deepest meditation, the coldest cold plunge, or the journaliest journal.

The ~1-month-long confidence boost that comes from performing comedy on stage is about as pure as it gets.

I understand why some comedians will hustle for 10 years at small shows and open mics before getting booked at a major venue. It’s addicting.

I went on stage at around 830pm after battling a 13-hour panic attack since the moment I woke up. “How is that addicting?” You might ask.

As I waited for the host to call my name all I could think about were potential avenues for failure.

I thought about how insecure I’d feel if I told a joke that 150 people didn’t like. Instant negative feedback. Imagine being on a job interview where the interviewer immediately says, “You’re not a good fit” after you talk about your experience. Now imagine that same interview in front of 150 people where they all shake their heads in agreement.

I had flashbacks to one of the first times I performed standup. I told my first joke and the audience gave me nothing. It fell completely flat. I felt the air leave my body and the panic caused me to forget the rest of what I had prepared. I have the video of that night (no fucking way I’m sharing it) and you can see my body sink and all I blurted out was “Ummm, okay that’s it for me.” Truly a traumatic experience.

But the next day I was fine. Nobody followed me home and laughed at me for embarrassing myself. I never ran into anyone who made a comment about it. The results of the failure were inconsequential. The only punishment I faced was self-administered. I flagellated myself on the drive home but that’s about it.

That flashback did not deter me, it inspired me. It helped ease my nerves on Tuesday. I knew that worst-case scenario, I’d go up there, have 150 people simultaneously reject me, then I’d walk off and go home.

We’re not wired to think it's a very good idea to get on stage and speak in front of people. Our hunter/gather ancestors who spent their entire lives with the same ~150 people would shutter at the notion of embarrassing themselves in front of the tribe. The constant ridicule, or worse, would be enough to rightly encourage any group member to keep their heads down.

Our brains haven’t quite adapted to how incredibly different our reality is today. We have infinitely more choices that allow us to fail more. Mobility has increased exponentially. There’s a lot more going on.

10,000 years ago an embarrassment like “bombing” would get talked about for months. Today, there’s no one in that audience who remembers anything I said. That fact is just hard to internalize.

After getting past negotiating with myself as to why the downside truly isn’t that low, I thought more about the upside.

Everything in my body told me to go home and play it safe, but I didn’t. Now my brain knows that I’m in control. It can feed me negative thoughts and outcomes all it wants, it knows I’ll go with my gut. You can’t put a price on that.

Oh.. and … by the way. I did pretty well. I’m not the next John Mulaney, but I had the crowd laughing at all of my jokes. That was an added sweetener to the fearlessness I felt walking around after the show.

It takes stones to voluntarily put yourself in the line of fire. I’m not suggesting that everyone try their hand at an Open Mic. For me, comedy has always been something I’ve wanted to do but scared the shit out of me. I’d pop into comedy clubs all the time while living in New York, wondering how the performers figured out a way to make the crowd laugh.

Find that friction in your life. What’s your standup comedy? The thing you want to do but have trouble shaking the fear of public embarrassment.

What’s worse: Briefly embarrassing yourself or looking back at the end of your life and wishing you had given it a try?

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