You can’t show what you didn’t observe.
I first encountered this idea in 2019, when I read Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now.
His work talks a lot about presence. About being able to become still enough that, rather than being completely consumed by your thoughts and what is happening around you, you can observe them.
I actually went to see Eckhart Tolle at the Royal Albert Hall that year, and it was one of the most unusual events I had ever been to. When I first arrived, I felt quite uncomfortable. It wasn’t my usual type of event. It felt like everyone might want to take their shoes off and hug each other, which really isn’t my thing. But then he started speaking. And what fascinated me was how he held that entire auditorium. You could hear a pin drop. Every so often, he would hit this bell, and it felt like it reset the whole room. He asked us to surrender our thoughts and to be still. And when you become still enough, you start to notice and can observe.
I didn’t know at the time how much I would eventually pull that idea into the way I teach storytelling and communication. Because observation is one of the most important skills you can develop as a storyteller. It's called the observer effect.
When I tell people to “show, don’t tell,” I often see them become unsure about what that actually means. I explain to them that you can only show me what you have observed. If you haven’t noticed it, it is very difficult to describe it.
So when you go back to a moment from your life that you want to turn into a story, don’t just remember what happened. Observe the scene and go back there.
What could you see? What could you hear? Where were you standing? Who else was there? What was happening in the room? What did somebody’s face do?
What were your hands doing? What did you notice then? And what can you notice now that you couldn’t see at the time?
That is data and the more observational data you have, the more material you have to tell the story.
Instead of telling me: “I was nervous.” You can show me the glass shaking slightly in your hand. Instead of telling me: “The room was silent.” You can tell me that you could hear somebody three rows behind you clearing their throat. That is the difference, you are giving me enough information to see what you saw.
And once I can see it, I can start to experience the story with you. This is why, when I work with people on their stories, I’m often not interested in a long-winded recount of your story. I’m looking for more observation. We just need to go back into the scene and gather the data.
So, if you are trying to tell a story from your life, try not to immediately ask yourself, “How do I tell this story?”
Instead, go back to the scene and observe it. Gather the data, then tell me what you see. You can only show what you observed and this leads us to authenticity.
