By Morf Morford, Tacoma Daily Index

It was one of those online challenges from social media; what could you talk about for 30 minutes? Some responses were basic; family, pets, work and travel experiences were a few common answers. For the most part, responses were limited to one or two topics.

The subject of our typical current attention span (about 10 seconds) has been a burning topic in headlines and articles for the past several years. Thanks to flickering and flashing technology in front of our eyes for hours at a time, we have become masters at what we call “multi-tasking”, but what actually means scattering our attention across five or ten subjects, screens or projects at once – each one, no matter how important it might actually be, is forgotten as it recedes in time.

A minute, or at most two, is about as much as anything can hold our fragmented attention span. Which actually means that some tasks get lost or obscured and, in far too many cases, nothing is done well. Few voices are fully heard, few options are fully scrutinized and full (especially unintended) consequences are rarely considered.

Who of us could talk about one topic for 30 minutes?

Most of us could go on a political/religious rant for a few minutes, but even the most passionate, according to my experience, run out of steam after the third or fourth (usually predictable, if not redundant) point.

How many ways, after all, can you say, my belief system is right and everyone else is wrong?

In politics, for example, after exclaiming that Biden/Trump is the best/worst president ever and is nearly single-handedly saving/destroying America, if not the entire world’s economy, what else is there to say?

Many I know have a firm belief that America, civilization, the world as a whole, is coming to an end. But even then, after a few (usually undocumented) alarmist or denialist statements, they too fizzle out.

But what topics do (or should) most of us have a working knowledge of that could fill 30 minutes?

I’ve studied, read and encountered a lot of information and stories about almost everything, and find myself continually challenged, horrified and, mostly, amused by what this world seems to offer as entertainment or distraction.

But again, what topic or life experience should any of us be capable of addressing for 30 minutes?

Stories tell us of what we already knew and forgot, and remind us of what we haven’t yet imagined.– Anne L. Watson

Talking for 30 minutes assumes that we have something worth saying. The topic rarely matters. What matters is that we care about what we are talking about. Caring is contagious – if we care, our listeners probably will too. And if we don’t, why should they?

Several years ago I was teaching a public speaking class. One assignment was to take a piece of paper out of a jar and do an impromptu speech on that topic for three minutes. The topics ranged from fruit to shoes to hair and real or imagined creatures.

The point was, of course, to improvise – to remember, even make up, a three minute response to the prompt. It didn’t need to be in-depth, or even factual – it just had to be three minutes.

One day a young woman reached in the jar and got a piece of paper that said “elephants”. She put the paper down, gave out a huge sigh and said, “I don’t know anything about elephants,” then sat down.

A good speaker, or anyone with a flexible mind, should be able to respond to any topic no matter how arcane or commonplace.

Every child knows something about elephants, but this student, for whatever reason, froze up and had nothing to say – probably on any topic

Talking for 30 minutes would (or should) take some preparation. But even then, not all of life’s occasions allow such a luxury.

Take my life, please…

You’d think most, if not all of us, could talk about our own lives for 30 minutes (at least).

I taught writing at the college level for several years and I noticed that, when it came to organizing one’s thoughts, on any topic and under any circumstances, there were two continuing challenges; where to begin and how to tie it together.

We have two lives, and the second begins when we realize we only have one. -Confucius

One simple answer to “where to begin” is; begin at the beginning. But as is often the case, simple does not mean easy.

Should one begin at the literal beginning – one’s actual physical birth? Or at, as Confucius put it, when we “realize” how distinct, fragile, unique and immense our personal existence is?

In other words, when did our life become “our own”? How did this happen? What is different about the life you “own” and the life you were born into?

You had one life as a child, a sibling, a person who was literally defined by those fate or destiny assigned to surround you. But then one day, or one pivotal experience later, a very different, perhaps even unexpected, person emerged. Now that’s a good story.

Only the best – or at least the most memorable

If your goal is to talk for 30 minutes (or even to tell a good story of any length) you need to pick the best story. And the best approach. Which “beginning” reveals the most about who you are and what matters to you?

30 minutes (or any opportunity to speak) might seem like a long time – but your first job as a speaker is to filter out the distractions and share the distilled version – “the best of” your story.

Unlike poor storytellers, who often feel that they have to “tell” everything, a good speaker knows that not every story can be told – or should be. And not every detail is essential.

And perhaps most importantly, everyone loves, or at least identifies with, a story they can relate to.