The Power of the Unexpected Opportunity

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So often, life has a way of nudging us to remind us that opportunities will present themselves in many ways that never hit your calendar, that don’t show up in the realm of job or home responsibilities, that simply present themselves and ask us, “What will you do with this?”

Last Wednesday, I got home a little after midnight after a long day of work and just before I pulled up in front of my house, my headlights caught what looked like a brown dachshund standing in the middle of the road. I carefully moved around the dog who didn’t flinch and parked my car. Then I went in search of the dog, wondering what a dog was doing in the middle of the road that late at night.

I walked back and found the dog who had moved very little from the middle of the road. He didn’t have a collar but did wear a powder blue neckerchief. I approached him cautiously not knowing if the little guy was injured, angry, or hungry and found him docile and willing to let me pet him.

Then I had to set out solving the mystery. I had no idea where this little guy had come from or who he belonged to, but he was obviously old, so I knew he belonged to someone. He mattered to someone. Not seeing anyone looking for him, I decided to take him home, get him some water, make a bed for him and try to find his owner in the morning.

I woke up my wife to tell her what was going on, so she didn’t wake up in the middle of the night and get alarmed at seeing a dog sleeping next to my side of the bed. As I lay down, the flood gate of thoughts opened and one thought after another started pouring in. What if this dog is sick and dies in the middle of the night? What if he gets frightened and panics? What if he loses control and makes a mess? On and on the ideas tugged at me. But I kept coming back to one thought. This old dog clearly belongs to someone. Someone loves this little guy and when they realize he’s missing, they’re going panic—at least until we can reunite dog and owner.

The dog couldn’t have been a better guest. He snuggled into the little bed I made for him, fell asleep and didn’t move all night. Occasionally I would wake up and peek at him and make sure he was okay.

Sure enough, in the morning, a call came. A neighbor, clearly frantic was calling all the neighbors asking if they had seen his lost dog.

“Yes, I have seen him, and he’s doing fine. He’s right here with me,” I said.

I can’t remember the last time I heard so much relief in another person’s voice. When the neighbor came to my front door, I saw one of the most genuinely joyful reunions imaginable—for dog and owner. It turns out the dog is blind. One of the neighbors’ kids left their door open by accident, and one thing led to another.

It was both the worst night sleep I have had in some time and the best night too. I slept with purpose. I slept, albeit fitfully, knowing that I could put something right for someone in the morning. I slept knowing that life had randomly placed the care of another being in my hands and it was up to me to figure out the rest.

After I reunited the dog (turns out his name is Sam) with his owner, I scrambled back to bed for a little more sleep and when I woke up it struck me that the most interesting thing that happened to me that previous night hadn’t been on my week plan. It wasn’t anything I intended to do. It wasn’t part of anything I had laid out.

The best presentations work that way too. Yes, you have a plan. You practiced. You’re prepared. But if you are paying close attention, the moment you are in front of the room can present you with an opportunity you couldn’t even imagine preparing for. You just have to be open to it.

The more I think about little Sam, the more grateful I feel for how alive he made me feel, how connected to the needs of a neighbor, how good it felt to help a lost dog and a frightened owner.

It feels a lot like that when you are totally present in a presentation, when you aren’t so in your head about what you’re going to say next that you remain wide open to what opportunity presents itself next.

I often hear from people about their fears of being in front of a room and presenting to a live audience. The more I think about it, the more I feel like presentations are like Sam showing up in the middle of my street in the middle of the night. Sure, like a dog you don’t know, a presentation could bite you. But it’s more likely it will present you with an opportunity to do something that helps someone else and connects you with your authentic self. And yes, it might even keep you up at night too.

In the end, you’ll be glad you stayed in the moment and felt the joy of doing something that benefited someone else.

If you would like to tap into the magic of being more present in your presentations, grab a copy of my free guide, How to Give Better Presentations in Half the Time. You’ll find it here: https://www.sanduskygroup.com/5ways

Much like I found myself with a lost dog in the middle of my street at midnight, you’ll find yourself lost sometime in the front of the room. The guide will help you make the most of the moment and even come out on the other end grateful for the moment.

Click here to get your guide: https://www.sanduskygroup.com/5ways

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