Plain sticky rice

First day at my new job in Kagoshima, southern Japan, and I'm sitting in a restaurant opposite my boss Mr Saito. I had embarked on my Japanese adventure straight out of university, working as an English teaching assistant in the state school system.

The immersion was total. I could only speak a few words of Japanese. Mr Saito spoke no English. We smiled at each other. Nodded. And smiled again.

Our bowls of steaming rice arrived. Having grown up in the UK, where we put sauce on everything, I instinctively reached for the soy sauce. At which point, the very reserved Mr Saito lunged forward saying “No, No!”, a look of alarm on his face.

A little confused, I eventually gathered that the soy sauce was the no-no, so put it down.

Later I made some discreet enquiries and discovered that in Japan, if rice accompanies your meal you eat it pure, and unadulterated. Appreciating it in all its subtlety.

During my two years in Japan, I started to question my (very British) habits and realise there was an alternative. And that sometimes, that alternative was better.

The Japanese reverence for simplicity stays with me today. While my husband and kids invariably reach for the chipotle, soy, or any sauce to spice things up, I eat my rice plain. Always.

The 'less is more' approach can be applied to many areas of life, including public speaking.

To connect with our audience we don’t need to over-flavour and over-season.

Otherwise we mask the key ingredient.

Us.

Our experience, stories and emotions.

When we’re in front of an audience it’s not so much what we say, as who we are. Wholly present, in the moment. As a person, not just as a professional.

Just like plain sticky rice, we are enough.