When the script vanishes. How to be ready!

There’s a certain electricity that runs through you before a big moment. The anticipation. The buildup. The hours of preparation converging in one, defining instant. Today was that moment—my keynote on AI and generative AI, a topic that has become both a personal passion and professional obsession. I had rehearsed every line, every inflection, with the precision of a maestro ready to lead an orchestra.

But just as I was about to step on stage, the bombshell dropped.

"Your speaker notes won’t be available."

It hit me like a gut punch. A wave of panic flashed across my mind—quick, but sharp, like the flicker of a dying light. In that instant, I could almost hear the crutch I’d been leaning on—the meticulously crafted notes—being kicked out from under me. It felt like staring down a performance with the sheet music ripped away. For a split second, I froze.

But then I breathed.

Here’s the thing about preparation: it doesn’t just prepare you for the perfect conditions—it readies you for the chaos. I reminded myself, I know this. AI and generative AI aren’t just concepts I’d memorized for the sake of a presentation. They’re part of my DNA. And when you know something that well, no amount of missing notes can take it away from you.

I stepped onto that stage anyway, the spotlight glaring, the audience expectant. My heart raced as I began, but with every word, I realized something powerful: I didn’t need the notes. I was the notes. Every slide, every point, every concept was already living in me.

Sure, I might have skipped over a few bullet points here and there, but as the presentation flowed, something shifted. The audience wasn’t there for flawless execution—they were there for connection, for passion, for a message that resonated. And that’s what I delivered. I spoke from a place of knowledge, but also from vulnerability. Because, let’s face it: when the scaffolding is stripped away, all that remains is you. And that’s more than enough.

At the end of it all, the applause echoed through the room, and many attendees approached me afterward to say how much they had enjoyed the talk. The irony? No one even noticed what I had missed. They saw what mattered: the enthusiasm, the insights, the shared experience of navigating a world increasingly shaped by AI.

So what’s the takeaway from this unscripted adventure?

1. Preparation is your safety net, not your straightjacket. We all prepare for perfection, but true mastery is knowing how to thrive in imperfection. The universe loves to throw curveballs—it’s your preparation that lets you swing for the fences.

2. When the plan goes awry, the real you shows up. And that’s not a bad thing. Authenticity is magnetic. People don’t connect with perfection; they connect with what’s real. The more human you are, the more people lean in.

3. Trust the work you’ve put in. Even when the crutch is kicked out, trust that the work—the hours of practice, the years of experience—is ingrained in you. You’ll find that the notes were never the anchor. You are.

4. Expect the unexpected. Whether it’s on stage, in the boardroom, or in life, curveballs are inevitable. But when you’ve prepared not just for the journey, but for the hurdles along the way, you can turn those curveballs into home runs.

So, yes, I delivered a keynote today without the safety net of my notes. It wasn’t the presentation I had imagined, but in many ways, it was better. It was real. And in this age of AI, where we’re constantly adapting to the unknown, perhaps that’s the greatest lesson of all.

Typically I deliver these in a suit and tie and here was my miss in preparation. I had packed only one, expecting to deliver this on day 1 of the event. Alas, I was moved to day 2 so more casual attire had to take it's place. Lesson learnt. As the SEALS says, two is one and one is none.