To Magnify Your Presence, Step Into The Wild Why Not

What does it take to have a magnetic presence that connects with an audience of one or many? My brother George Kelakos, who passed away on March 10th from complications of long-Covid, was the walking, talking answer to that question.

Covid (the bad kind, which hospitalized him in 2020) had turned George’s lungs to Swiss Cheese; and in the three and a half years since he’d contracted the virus, his body had whittled down to 125 pounds from a pre-hospital weight of 214.? He struggled to breathe every second, every minute, and every hour of the day.

And yet he managed to leap into every moment of every day he experienced, marching bravely and resolutely forward through everything that Covid threw at him, until he breathed his last. George died as he’d lived, stepping fully and bravely into the Wild Why Not

Into The Wild Why Not is the title of a song my fellow singer-songwriter and pal, Greg Greenway, recorded on his album, Mussolini’s Head. He wrote the song for a close friend who lived a big, arms-open-wide-kind-of-life—much like my brother—and who passed away suddenly.?

“All he ever asked of life was everything,” the song goes

You want to make him king, you want to wring his neck.

You want to tip your hat sometimes out of sheer respect.

Smiling, alive, arms open wide Into the wild why not,

Into the wild why not we go.”

What is The Wild Why Not?

To me, the wild why not represents a willingness to leap with abandonment into the great unknown that every moment of our lives offers us.? It’s about being curious and open to what is unfolding in front of us, instead of removing ourselves emotionally from it out of fear or discomfort.

Like Greg’s friend, my brother committed to this philosophy by diving fully and feelingly into every single moment of his life, no matter what the moment offered up. Good or bad, he embraced whatever came at him, even the ugliness of Covid. He gobbled up every moment and every experience like a kid in a candy store. And because he did, his Charismatic Presence went through the roof, which made him a people magnet. His energy drew people to him wherever he went and whatever he did-- whether he was facilitating a mediation training for high-level executives, talking to vendors while sampling snacks from street carts in Singapore, or yakking with strangers while waiting for a plane. He drew people to him because he was so fully present in the moment—smiling, alive, arms open wide, as the song says. And at the end of his life, he had stitched together a massive network of people from all over the world who referred to George as their “good friend” or “brother.”

So, what, exactly, does my brother have to do with presence and presentation mastery?

In a word? Everything. Because George embodied my belief that a willingness to step into the wild why not is critical if you want to up your game and create authentic, charismatic presence and connection as a speaker and communicator (and human being). As a presenter, stepping into the wild why not means opening yourself wide to whatever unfolds moment-by-moment while you’re giving a talk. Let's say a baby in the third row?of your audience starts to wail, or the slide advancer malfunctions, or someone asks you a startling question. You can make the choice to step out of the moment and go into your head where your little naysaying judgers live, which will make you self-conscious and reduce your charismatic presence; ?Or you can choose to fling your arms around whatever happens and make the most of it:??"Was I that awful?" you might ask, in reference to the crying baby. "Stop misbehaving right now, you little rascal!" you might say to the errant slide advancer, and then cheerfully fiddle with it until you get it working right, while your giggling audience looks on. "That's a fascinating question," you might say in response to the startling question, "Can you tell me more about about why you asked it?"

As a speaker, the more willing you are to fling yourself into the moment—smiling, alive, arms open wide—the more energy, aliveness, and charismatic presence you’ll bring to everything you say and do. And the more your audience of one or one hundred will enjoy sharing space with you and feel connected to you.

George taught me that lesson, in his bold, bright life, and I will never forget it, or him. Because, as Greg Greenway’s lyrics so simply and brilliantly put it, all he ever asked of life—and every conversation, spotlight moment, or experience he engaged in--was everything.