The Art of Speaking with Style

The might of literature is far reaching and ever-prominent, although the spoken word harbors an unappreciated power. With the ability to immerse an audience in a lyrical and utterly mesmerizing spell, the human voice is an integral aspect of emotional communication. Varying degrees of subtlety can transform both cadence and diction, in turn weaving different stories and conveying greater emotion. There are three fundamental components to any decent speaker: authenticity, assertiveness, and perception.

Manipulation by means of eloquent speech is certainly possible, however the true strength of tongue arises in authenticity, or the honesty and integrity of the speaker. The bearer of a hidden agenda will find intrinsic weaknesses within his verbal expressions. The power to capture the minds of an audience is fairly easy, however capturing their hearts requires something more profound and much more personal. 

Robust language is an excellent compliment to a gentle rhythm. Securing the attention of listeners is a basic, yet vital step in conveyance, and is best accomplished through the use of an assertive technique. An audience responds to the stability and audibility of a voice, thereby giving the speaker leverage in his conquest of hearts. Words must be chosen with precision, each catered to implying a certain truth, or setting the stage for future engagements. Language must be considered the vessel of the speaker’s passion, and so each word must be advantageous to the cause. 

Mastering the art of speaking also requires a perceptive and versatile mind. Listeners can be quite fickle with their loyalty to even an assertive voice. Vigilance is required for any truly engaging communication, and the speaker must be able to perceive the emotional tide of an audience. As positive sentiment reinforces the fortitude of the speech itself, over-confidence could quickly become a deterrence, blinding the speaker, and resulting in a loss of control. This detrimental misstep can be avoided with awareness and a clear head. Likewise, perception will allow the reader to act in response to a grapple with ill sentiment. 

The most gratifying effect of an efficient speech is the success of determining an audience’s reaction. Understanding the intricacies of the human voice, and with proper mastering, its influence over the human psyche, is perhaps one of the more valuable assets to any charismatic speaker’s tool belt. And of course, having a cool voice like the next Morgan Freeman always helps. 

Under the Cedar Tree

I was surrounded by a thicket so dense I could almost feel the rhythmic throbbing of hearts in every tree. The needles beneath my feet padded every footstep, and my tread was silent. I could hear the birds chirping their songs of joy and sweet content, careening through the skies like angels patrolling the heavens. Dawning bright and glorious, sunlight crept through the branches. I reveled in these sporadic windows of light and warmth. I felt the thrum of life in every direction, and it was invigorating. Good morning Serenity, I thought to myself.

There was a friend hiding somewhere in this forest of cedar trees. My friend and your friend; a friend to us all.  Sometimes I could hear her calling from a limb above my head. Or maybe she was whispering from just behind my back. Every time I looked up or turned around, her kind cajoling ceased to invite me. Her presence wavered in and out of my consciousness elusively, like a guttering candle in the wind. I danced on the threshold of frustration, and somehow I felt that this would be the greatest impediment to my quest. Most could never find their friend in the forest. Some searched, but always in the wrong direction. This friend did not like to hide, for it was not her nature. The wanderers of the forest had merely forgotten how to look.

My passage through the thicket was halted when I met a wounded tree in my path. This broad cedar bore an impressive girth and towered above its neighbors. How lucky I was to witness this goliath; still a King of the Wood however marred his flesh had become. I gazed upon a charcoal wound spanning the diameter of his trunk, stretching from the base to several feet above my head. The King had been a victim of fire, in similarity to how the wanderers had been victimized by life. I had garnered many scars of my own throughout this search for a friend. The forest had dealt its blow in numerous ways, and I grew wary of the endless suffering. Deciding to break from the pain and momentarily renounce my title of seeker, I sat down beneath the cedar tree. Crossing my legs, I thought: There is no place like here and now. 

A lesson can be found within the needles and bark of trees, like the one I was leaning my back upon at that moment. These envoys of wisdom toil with the natural forces of the greater wood, collecting garish wounds in the process. However, they do not suffer from such adornments. The King at my back lived on, healing ever so slowly with lasting remnants of his scar. Yet he did not fight back, for all trees know that scars are inevitable. This unconditional acceptance was captivating and held me in sway. This compliance with the whimsical and unpredictable nature of life was compelling. In an act of capitulation, I turned inwards and yielded to the throes of existence. It was then that I found my friend. She had never been hiding, but merely resting below the surface of where I chose to search. My quest to seek the hand I wished to hold was over, and it ended under the cedar tree.