It was a strange combination.
Four hundred and fifty adults had been brought to their knees in silence on the floor of a school gym.
I’d been in empty gyms before, where the echoing squeak of my own runners on the floor were the sole sound. That kind of silence made sense.
But being in a university sports center that was full of people and brimming with hush at the same time was . . . odd.
What magic had cast that cloak of silence over the crowd?
A ten-year-old kid.
I was 22, attending my first International Jugglers’ Association convention. It was 1983, in Purchase, New York. The central draw to the convention is the main hall, where jugglers from all over the world gather to share tricks, engage in passing, and watch each other practice. It’s juggler heaven.
There were 450 of us in the gym that day when an inconspicuous pre-teen walked in with his prop bag, set it down, and dumped out its contents to practice.
As he began to work, both amateur and professional jugglers, some of the most accomplished in the world, one by one stopped what they were doing to watch this young boy matter-of-factly practice things they had not thought possible, especially for a boy of ten.
Transfixed, we all slowly dropped to our knees to crouch or sit on the floor until the entire hall was silent, watching the boy named Anthony Gatto practice.
Having worked professionally as a vaudeville entertainer, Anthony’s father, Nick Gatto, recognized the quality of diligence in his son and encouraged it. The sparks of that diligence were fanned into flames of obsession as the young Nick became entirely focused on the mastery of numerous tricks. His natural ability, combined with proper coaching, resulted in indisputable excellence.
It was obsession that effortlessly mesmerized this crowd.
Obsession is a secret weapon of influence few of us take full advantage of. Perhaps because the word “obsession” has a negative connotation. But those who have organic, healthy obsessions—setting the stage for mastery of a subject or skill—experience an intensity of fulfillment that normal folks do not come to know.
But we all want it.
Or perhaps more accurately, we all want permission to pursue the things that we most love, that most fascinate us, that render time irrelevant, transcend our signals of hunger or discomfort, and propel us toward story worthy lives.
Because of this, anyone who gives themselves permission to be obsessed automatically gets our attention. The authority of their human spirit inspires us, educates us, and creates connection.
What are you obsessed with?
You should pursue it.
You should speak about it.
You should write about it.
Because you’ll never have more permission to communicate it than you do right now. There is no future time or place where it’s going to feel less risky, vulnerable, or daunting to admit what you most care about.
And if you look back in time, you’ll find a trail of obsession crumbs that you can follow back to where you left your heart’s desire by the side of the path.
The stories of your life experience are the crumbs, and sharing those stories will help you retrace your steps.
Saturday Is Story Sharing Day
Saturday, May 4th, 9 am PST
Share a story about your current relationship to the state of obsession. What were you obsessed with as a kid? When did that obsession stop? What did you replace it with? What is your relationship to the state of obsession now?
How a best-selling crime novelist grew her confidence for speaking
Barbara Nickless is an Amazon and Wall Street Journal best-selling crime novelist who approached me for some coaching for a keynote she was slated to deliver at a writer’s conference last week.
Some of my suggestions unnerved her, but the result of stretching out of her comfort zone and applying them surpassed her every expectation.
This is my short interview with Barbara about how she prepared, presented, and eventually won the hearts of her audience.
If you have a public presentation you need to deliver in the next year that you’re nervous about and want some coaching, just reply to this email and let me know. It would be my pleasure to help.
Until next week.
Rick
The fact that there is an International Jugglers’ Association convention -- or even an International Jugglers' Association! -- makes me joyful. Seriously. Maybe my obsession is to be constantly amazed by niches- and, therefore, weird to most out there- things like these.
Also, between writing the above sentence and this one, I fell down the YouTube rabbit hole of some of Anthony Gatto's performances. I can understand your mesmerize-ation. Holy moly!
I've come back to read this piece twice now. It's such an amazing moment, everyone transfixed by a kid doing something beautifully, the reverence in this moment. Now I've gone and looked this kid up, and see that he kept at it, to say the least! Grateful, as always, for the story sharing days you host. This one was inspiring and fun—as always. 🙏