PROJECTING MY FEARS

When I was living in Springfield, Illinois, I had a job where the employees were encouraged to do volunteer work for others. I decided to volunteer for the American Heart Association. I volunteered to do publicity for the Association. I was able to book a half hour program on a local television channel. I had never put together a half hour program before, so I was very concerned that it be successful. The television station would supply the host for the program. I found a panel of three doctors and had a five-minute video that would help fill up the time. I put together a bunch of questions that the host could ask during the show.

The day of the taping, I broke into a cold sweat when into the first 15 minutes of the show, the host had shown the video and used up all my questions! We were only half way through. The host did a decent job the rest of the show, making up questions. I felt embarrassed by my failure. So, I pledged to myself that the next time I got involved in a television show, I would be better prepared.

In those days I was interested in the topic of ESP, since I had some unusual experiences. Because of my interest, I got involved in a series of half hour shows on ESP on a Springfield local cable station. I do not remember if I approached them or if they approached me about launching the new series on ESP. I do recall that I volunteered my time for free in getting the show on the air. At that time, I was attending a Unity Church and knew some people with similar interests in ESP. In fact, one of the Unity members was a young barber. I thought he would be a good host; he was handsome, articulate, and had some psychic abilities. (Unfortunately, I do not recall his name, since it was so long ago.)

The barber agreed to host the program. I felt some panic about the show because of my previous failure with the Heart Association television show. I got a pad of paper and told the barber that we would work on the questions for the first guest together. I told the barber to have the pad of paper in front of him at the taping, so he could read the questions. I was concerned that since his first time on television that the barber may panic and forget the questions. The pad of questions was the security blanket.

The day of the taping came and things did not go well. The barber appeared wooden and would read the questions mechanically. There was no real rapport between the host and the guest. I figured out afterwards what the problem was when the barber and I went over what happened. He found the pad of questions too confining; but out of loyalty for me (and because he thought I knew what I was doing), he asked the questions that we had worked on.

For the next show, we again went over the questions to ask. This time, however, I left him alone. I told him that while it was good to have the questions available in the event he went blank that he did not have to use any of the questions if he did not want to.

This time at the day of the taping the second show went very well. The host was a natural! The rapport was great with the guest. And guest what? He never had to look at the pad of paper. I had projected my fears onto him because of my previous failure with the other television show for the Heart Association. My preparations were stifling the spontaneity and the joy the host felt for the show.

When I stopped projecting my fears onto him, he was free to be himself.