You glance down at your watch for the umpteenth time in five minutes, and notice your left hand tremble ever so slightly. What was it they mentioned in that body language workshop last week? Oh that was it...the breathing, the breathing that went on forever. Deep, from the diaphragm thingy, in, out, in, out...eyes half shut, in, out....
You glance surreptitiously around the reception area at the other candidates, and find yourself taking note of their posture, their nervous tics, their shifting facial expressions. The blonde girl in front of you is hunched over like an old lady, eyes fixated on the floor, arms folded protectively around the plastic wallet presumably safeguarding her CV. To your right your gaze falls on the ballpoint pen jiggling in the hand of its dancing owner in time with her right foot, and to your left a smartly dressed guy purses his lips and frowns in concern or concentration.
All of you are there for the same purpose, competing for a shared dream, the position of Marketing Director in a prestigious multinational. No doubt every single one has been preparing for weeks for this final round of interviews, the tension building like steam in a pressure cooker, the practice questions cutting through sleep at night.
Yet for some reason that familiar rumbling fear in the pit of your stomach has dissipated in the time it has taken to breath a few times and scan the room. A head suddenly appears from the oak panelled reception and apologises for the delay..."Ten more minutes until the next candidate I´m afraid". Audible groans from your companions and then a rustle of paper as blonde girl extracts her CV for some nervous reading.
You surreptitiously check your phone and (under the pretence of an important call) slip outside to the bracing cold. There´s no one around so you decide to go for it, it´s all or nothing, time to warm up. Stretching arms out wide, feet in an open V, you breathe out on an "Aaaaaaah" sound which echoes across the courtyard. It feels strangely animal, like a call in the wild, a strange ritual, something primal. For some reason it felt much sillier doing it in the workshop in front of your colleagues just a few weeks ago than it does now, all suited up.
Never before have you been so aware of your physical presence and the power you have to determine your confidence. Smiling to yourself you head back towards the waiting area, fully aware that anyone watching that little display would definitely doubt your sanity!
The bobbing head returns and looks pleasantly surprised as you confidently meet her eyes, "Candidate Jones please".
Shoulders down, eyes ahead, deep breath, and walk with confidence....
** If you are interested in how to both feel and transmit confidence in situations such as these then please get in touch with us!
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