When I first got into storytelling, I signed up for a story slam — one of those events where people share personal stories on stage.
For that moment, I spent weeks crafting the perfect story. Every word, every pause, every gesture was planned.
When the day came, I delivered it exactly as I had rehearsed. And honestly, after the story, I thought, “Wow, well done, Philipp. You crushed it.”
But then the organizer came up to me and said, “Philipp, that was a beautiful story. Such a pity you delivered it like a robot.”
What? Ouch.
It stung. I felt terrible because I had put so much work into it. But I didn’t let that stop me.
Six months later, I went back to that same place with the same story. But this time, I hadn’t rehearsed a single word.
Before going on stage, I closed my eyes and went back to the moment. I saw the room again. I saw what was happening. I felt the emotions of the story.
When I spoke, I simply described what I saw as it unfolded in my mind.
This time, a guy came up to me afterward and said, “Wow, that was the most powerful story I have ever heard in my life.”
And I just stood there thinking, The story hadn’t changed at all. The first time I rehearsed it word for word. The second time I relived it.
In the age of AI, anyone can tell a well-written story. But AI can’t copy your emotion. To make people feel something, you have to feel it first.
Which brings me to the next habit: Relive the story.
Reliving means going back to the specific moment.
You see the room. You see the actions unfolding. You hear whatever was said. You notice the thoughts running through your head. And then you speak it out loud, describing what’s unfolding in front of your eyes.
Don’t worry about perfect words. Just share what you see and feel.
Retelling a story is like showing someone a photo. Reliving the moment is like bringing them there with you.