Audio Tidbits

I’m glad you stopped by. If this is your first visit, I have some interesting mental gymnastics for you today. If you like that sort of thing, I think you will enjoy your visit.

If you are an Audio Tidbits Podcast regular, I am still pursuing interesting ways to respond to the prompts from the Prompts app on my iPhone. I think you will agree that today’s prompt is particularly puzzling. It’s another one of those notions that either has a dozen good responses or none. I’m having trouble deciding.

Try this. Everything I know, I learned from…. How will you finish the sentence? …

I’m probably making it way too difficult. It’s likely one of those pronouncements that neither invites nor deserves a response. I can complete the sentence with whatever pops into my head, and no one cares. Everything I know, I learned from my dog. Everything I know, I learned from my wise grandfather. Perhaps, “Everything I know, I learned in Kindergarten.”

As you see, most anything I say to complete the sentence can stand on its own. Everything I know, I learned from riding my pony in the woods. The idea is that all it takes is appending a potential source of knowledge, no matter how improbable. But where did I really learn everything I know?

The first step toward finding the answer for me is to simplify. There are the things I know, the things I only think I know, the things I think I don’t know, and the things about which I don’t have a clew. What do you think? Does that pretty well cover the possibilities?

Today’s prompt is limiting me to the things I know. What I only think I know and all the rest are out of bounds; so, let me see if I can figure out how I came to know the things I know. What is the source of that knowledge? Perhaps more to the point, what makes me so sure about the validity of what I put into the “I know” box? Along with knowing where the knowledge came from, I also need to know why I am so sure it is right.

The source of what I know matters. It’s the “Everything I know, I learned from” idea. Philosophers have argued about this issue for eons or at least for a very long time. The central question is whether there is intrinsic knowledge along with experiential knowledge or just what we come to know from experience. Are there things we are born knowing, things that are just there for us as a benefit of being human or have we learned everything we know along the way?

I’ll leave that one to you and the philosophers and opt for “Everything I know, I learned from experience.” That takes in many types of experience; but nonetheless, experience is the only path to knowledge.

Now that I have settled on that, I can more easily complete the sentence. Everything I know, I learned from many and varied experiences. I learned from parents and other teachers, from libraries and lectures, from books and Google, from friends and from just hanging around, from touching the hot stove and myriad positive and not so positive experiences. Life and living have taught me a lot. Although I have mostly forgotten the specifics, I generally know where all of that knowing came from. Some of it came through serious effort on my part and much of it came unbidden; but most of it simply accumulated unnoticed.

That leaves the million-dollar question. Do I really know what I know or do I just think I know? I know it hurt the last time I touched the hot stove and also know it will hurt if I touch it again. I would call that direct knowledge. I know a lot of if A then B kinds of things. Some are simple like touching the hot stove and others are very complex like not keeping track of and responsibly managing current expenses in relation to existing assets and future revenues is a sure way to end up between the proverbial rock and a hard place. Direct knowledge is a very good thing and only comes through experience.

Do you have stage fright? To my surprise, I have concluded that I am having a little case of what I can only call stage fright. It's not a fear of speaking to a large group or anything like that for me. My stage fright is new and only kicks in when I sit down to make a PPOV podcast.

It's not talking to you that sets off my anxiety. Rather, it is merely talking into the open microphone. Since I really want to talk to you, I need a plan for Getting Over Stage Fright. Although I have been putting it off, I have concluded that the only cure is to podcast.

This episode and likely the next few will be for me. I am going to push through it. My stage fright is preventing me from podcasting. That is simply not acceptable. I need to just get over it.

 

Perhaps you will choose to join me during the cure. If not, I will understand. Please check back in a few weeks. By then, I should be cured. If you choose to join me for the journey, stay tuned. The trip should be interesting, at least interesting to those of us whexperience a little stage fright now and then.

Here I am back with the latest prompt from the Prompts app on my iPhone. I’m getting a late start since the college football game had a lightening delay of over an hour. Since the Buckeyes won 77 to 31, who cares about a little delay? Not me.

Today’s prompt is, “I am my own….” That certainly opens us up to a world of possibilities.

There I go again, speaking for us instead of just speaking for me. As they say, “Old habits are hard to break.” Let me take another pass at that. That opens it up to a world of possibilities for me. How about for you?

Will you take a crack at today’s prompt? “I am my own….” How do you finish the sentence? …

I think I’m probably putting off getting down to the business of responding to today’s prompt myself. That may well be another one of those old habits that are hard to break. I seem to have a lot of them.

I am my own toughest critic. I appreciate my successes and acknowledge my controbutions when things work out as I hoped they would. Even so, I tend to pick at things whether they turn out well or not so well. The main variable tends to only be how harshly I pick. I figure that picking at the pieces that are not quite up to my expectation helps improve the odds of not screwing something up in the future. I think of this as continuous improvement.

That all sounds good but it does have its down side. It means that I miss out on some of the pleasure of succeeding, the sense of satisfaction that comes from doing something well. It also makes me a little obsessive and driven. That’s not such a big deal when it’s limited to just me. I can handle it or at least have gotten used to it.

It does become a problem when I am responsible for the work and outcomes of others. I tend to apply the same level of pickiness to them and their work. Even when they do a good job and get quite acceptable outcomes, there I am picking at the little lapses, the details that could have been handled better.

I can easily rationalize this behavior by arguing that it only helps them get better at whatever the task happens to be. It’s true enough; it does help them get better – usually.

The problem with being my own toughest critic is that I tend to fall into that role with others. I easily become their toughest critic. It should come as no surprise that, although they mostly appreciate it, they also can come to resent it and thus to resent me.

The underlying issue is this. Children, co-workers, and those for whose work I am responsible understandably take the criticism personally. When I think I’m only saying that their work could have been done better, that they could have gotten even better outcomes, part of them only hears me saying that they are not good at what they do, that they are sub-standard, that they are not up to par as people. They take the criticism personally.

I should know that. I do know that. I was raised on the notion that however well I did, I could have done better, I should have done better. The outcome was predictable. I won’t trouble you with examples from my childhood but be assured that I have an impressive collection.

My father had what may be the perfect compromise. Again, I have a hefty collection of examples but one will suffice here.

I was a normally volatile sixteen-year-old and was angry about something my mom said or did – I don’t actually recall what percipitated my little tantrum. I rushed out the back door and agressively slammed it behind me. The large window in the door shattered as I rushed away.

I came home an hour or so later only to find the window in the door repared and the glass swept up.

I went into where my dad was watching TV, not knowing what to expect but fairly sure I wasn’t going to like it. He said, “I’m glad you made it back. “

Thanks for joining me on this writing journey. The Prompts app for my iPhone has generated yet another engaging prompt. When I’m alone, I feel…. I hope you choose to play along. How will you finish the sentence?

My immediate response is, “When I’m alone, I feel peaceful. The movie in my mind finds me late at night when the phone doesn’t ring, when the house is quiet and there is time to read or perhaps time to write. There are no demands, no expectations. It is indeed a peaceful scene.

I then let the image expand and quickly understand that I am not actually alone. My wife had headed to bed earlier as is her habit and both dogs have called it a day. The collie has climbed up into the red chair and the lab is stretched out on the couch. Bird is still in her cage and seems to know that it is quiet time. Alone? No, I’m not actually alone. …

As I ponder the prompt, I realize that not only am I not alone, I don’t recall ever being truly alone. When I was at OU, I had a single room, but even then, all I needed to do if I felt lonely was to walk down the hall where I was sure to encounter one of the other four hundred or so undergraduates in the dorm. Sleeping was not a high priority back then.

I have certainly been in other situations where I was more or less by myself; but even then, to say that I was alone is a bit of a stretch. At best, the lonely part of being alone was no more than temporary. I had been with people earlier and would again be with others soon. The alone time was little more than a transition, a shift in scenes.

Disconnected comes to mind as I wonder what it would be like to be truly lonely. Sometimes I feel more connected and sometimes less, but I don’t recall ever feeling completely disconnected. Even when I was feeling less connected, I had no sense that there was any permanence to the condition. I knew that I didn’t like the feeling but knew that I would be more connected eventually.

I worked in mental health centers for thirty years or so and spent a lot of time with people who felt disconnected, who were very disconnected from friends, family and from anyone else who cared about them and what the outcome of their lives would be. For them, loneliness had been replaced with hopelessness. They were alone and felt like there were no prospects for anything better. I only mention that to make the point that I understand what real loneliness is and am very grateful that I have never personally experienced it.

Writing is a curious pursuit. I seem to have started in a peaceful place reading a good book, being amused by the dogs on the furniture and happy being alone without really being alone. A few hundred words later, I have taken us into a dark place where sad people are feeling disconnected and hopeless. Hoping that I always remember their pain, never forget their hopelessness, I also want to remember that they most all got past the depression, most all were able to renew old connections, were able to reconnect. Being lonely is usually but a temporary detour.

Let me see if I can bring us back to a brighter place. I’ll try the prompt again. When I’m alone, I feel something other than lonely. As for exactly what that feeling is, – Yes, I’m really going to say it. – it depends.

If it’s late at night and all is well with my world, I feel peaceful. If I am waiting for something I really don’t want to do like get my tooth filled, I feel a little annoyed and perhaps slightly anxious. If I just finished a successful project, I feel happy. If something has happened that causes me to be upset or sad …, -- Let’s not go there. As I said, it depends.

I’m thinking that I don’t have much more to say about it. I am pretty much of an introvert so being alone is normally a good place for me. I know people who quickly get restless when they are by themselves and don’t have somethi...

As is true for many if not most bloggers and podcasters, I give a lot of thought and energy to coming up with new and hopefully interesting content. I keep hearing that content is king, and perhaps it is. My problem is that I struggle with coming up with viable candidates to wear the crown.

I discovered today that my problem may be its own solution. Yesterday I told you about the Prompts app that I found for my iPhone. It provides a few words to start the writing juices flowing. The prompt is followed by an empty note, inviting me to extend the thought.

It seems to be saying, “Here’s a great candidate to assume the throne. You have been introduced to the next king so give him the attention such royalty deserves.” Setting the sexist aspect of this aside for now, let’s meet the king for today. …

Today’s prompt is, “I spend a lot of time thinking about ….”

Are you playing along? All you need to do is finish the sentence or perhaps the paragraph. Once done, you are on your way to being a writer.

Sure, I’m giving it a try too. I spend a lot of time thinking about what will make good content for my blog or podcast. I know, I already told you that. Just saying it again does little to help with the transition from thinking to doing. I could easily spend a day or a week thinking about what to write and still come up short. At some point, only thinking about doing something turns into a colossally empty place where there is nothing but thought without substance, intention without product.

I wonder how much of our time and energy we invest in just thinking about what we want to do, what we should have done, or what we will do later today or get around to tomorrow or perhaps next week. Okay, I admit to that little avoidance tactic. I’m trying to pull you into my issue, talking as if you and everyone else shares my problem. That is a little mental trick I try sometimes to convince myself that my issue is just human nature, has nothing to do specifically with me.

Let me rerun that, seeing if I can avoid my little mental deception. I wonder how much of my time and energy I invest in just thinking about what I want to do, what I should have done, or what I will do later today or get around to tomorrow or perhaps next week. When I put it that way, the answer is pretty easy. – Way too much.

When I make it personal, when I make the shift from our issue to my issue, I can hear the little voice talking to me. It’s saying, “Get a grip my friend. You may think you are putting one over on everyone else but you’re definitely not putting one over on me. Others may buy into your nonsense, but it doesn’t work with me. You know what the real issue is. You’re afraid to commit. You read about bloggers with thousands of readers, podcasters with thousands of listeners and fear that you will come up short. Get over it. You are already coming up short and spending most of your time thinking about it is assuredly not the way to catch up.”

Wow, my little voice does have a way of cutting to the chase. As usual, he is right on point. The only way to be a writer is to write, the only way to be a podcaster is to podcast, the only way to do anything is to do it. Just thinking about it won’t cut it.

There is another element that I am having difficulty sharing with you. It’s awkward and embarrassing. It’s true that I have been thinking about the thousands of readers I don’t have, the thousands of listeners I don’t have. What I have not been thinking nearly enough about is you. You are reading these words, you are listening to James read these words to you. I’m glad you are here and hope what I have had to say has been worth your time and attention. I must remember that I am doing this for you. The thousands who might read, who might listen are still out there somewhere; but you are here today. Thank you.

Writing is easy. The challenge is figuring out what to write about. Actually, that is not quite true. For example, I know I’m not going to write about ancient history or current fashions. I know I am going to write about people, what they do, how they do it, why they do it or something else related to the social or people aspects of my reality. That’s what interests me, so it wouldn’t make much sense to write about anything else.

Within the boundaries of my interests, settling on one focus for writing can be tough. To help with that, I discovered an app for my iPhone. It’s called Prompts. Apparently, it is like a pump primer for writers. The idea is that the app will give me a writing prompt. Since I installed the app only a few minutes ago, how well it does at starting the writing juices flowing remains to be seen. For ninety-nine cents, I figure it’s worth a try.

The first thing I notice about the Prompts app is that it’s pretty simple. Click around for a couple of minutes and quickly conclude that it’s main thing really is its main thing. It gives me a short prompt to start the first sentence followed by an otherwise empty note area. The app can keep some statistics and provide reminders to write but the only thing to do is to pick up on the prompt and write something. I suspect I can get a new prompt every time I come back to the app but beyond that, there is nothing else to do or to get frustrated with. Now just how cool is that? …

Although I have never taken a creative writing class, I think Prompts is a lot like a creative writing class would be. I can imagine sitting down on the first day of the course and the professor walking up to the chalk board and writing “banana” in foot high letters. She then turns to the class and says, “You have the topic. I’ll expect a thousand words, typed and double spaced, on the topic for our next class.” She then walks out of the classroom, leaving us just sitting there, wondering what just happened.

I don’t know if my mythical professor is responsible for the Prompts app but am sure it is a definite possibility. The first prompt I got from the app was not “banana”, but the open-ended aspect of the prompt will be familiar to you if you were there the day the professor wrote on the chalk board and walked out.

“In my dreams I ….” No, that’s not quite right. The first prompt says, “In my dreams I,” followed by a blank note. The goal is to complete the note. Are you game? If so, finish the note. There is not a professor to require a thousand words by the next class, but at least finishing the sentence seems like a minimum expectation. Fair is fair. Since you are accepting the challenge, I will play too.

In my dreams I am typically an observer, not an actor. It is as if I am watching the movie. When I am a participant, I usually have a manager or coordinator role. It’s as if I am staging the scene for the other actors in the dream.

Most often, my dreams are quite innocuous and frankly boring. They are neither memorable nor especially interesting. If I recall them – and I seldom do – five minutes later, they are gone. Right now, I don’t remember any dream I have ever had. I have awareness of having dreamed but nothing specific comes to mind. I remember that I have had dreams that were very upsetting and likely qualified as nightmares but don’t remember them either. If you mention a dream prompt, I might recall dreaming about that once, but it’s unlikely that I could conjure up the memory without the prompt.

As you see, what I have to say about dreaming is as boring as the dreams I have. It would be more fun to just make something up, and I’m sure it would be more entertaining. I’m thinking that It would be much more interesting to write about day dreaming. I could write from actual memory. Even better, I could day dream as I write.

In what I think was probably the most recent episode of Benjamen Walker's Theory of Everything podcast, Mr. Walker featured an artificial intelligence (AI) expert from Google. The Google guy was discussing what sounds like an AI game for geeks. In this scenario, the geeks are themselves artificial intelligence entities. Think of them as computer one and computer two.

Computer one’s gig is to create realistic scenes indistinguishable from reality. Think of them as mind pictures. Also keep in mind that these scenes are completely computer generated. They are fully a product of artificial intelligence, ones and zeros supported by algorithms. Once the button is pushed, there is no additional human intervention.

For computer two, the gig is reality detection. Along with IA scenes from computer one, computer two is shown scenes captured from actual reality. The challenge for computer two is to tell which scenes are artificial and which are actual, which are fake and which are real. Think of computer two as a lie detector of sorts. …

It does not seem like much of a stretch to believe the Google guy when he suggests that computer one (the AI box) has progressed further than computer two (the lie detector). Computer one can produce artificial reality virtually indistinguishable from the real world. Not only can computer one fool computer two, it does a fair job of deceiving computer two’s keepers as well.

It is pretty clear that it is no longer true that a picture is worth a thousand words, if it ever was true. At least it is not as true as it used to be.

This would be little more than an interesting story from Google land if that were where the story ends but it isn’t. The AI box is far from finished just because its fake picture can trick computer two into believing that the picture is real. It has deceptions to come that are even more incredible.

Instead of simple still pictures, the AI box has evolved past static images to document production. Think of a newspaper with text and pictures. Think of a magazine with familiar characters and believable story lines. Think of artificially generated video experiences that are as realistic as two peas in a pod. It is possible to produce any reality you choose at the push of a button.

Like many discoveries and creations emerging from the fertile minds and black boxes of the geniuses we know nothing about, all is well so long as their revelations remain in their laboratories and secret refuges. Unfortunately, the AI magic is not so neatly contained. The AI newspaper with text and pictures, the AI magazine with familiar characters and believable story lines, and the artificially generated video experiences that are as realistic as two peas in a pod may be out there for us on our two hundred and ninety million cell phones, on our one hundred and eighteen million televisions, and spuming forth from our thirty thousand broadcast stations just in the United States.

I think we all understand the idea of news. It’s new information about specific and timely events. It’s the who, what, where and when of our world. To be news, what is reported needs to be true and factual. We also know that the why is more often than not a matter of opinion and perspective. Why usually does not qualify as news. Nonetheless, being truthful and factual are essential.

We have also come to understand that along with real news, there is fake news. It’s fake news when the who, what, where, or when are not truthful, not factual or when the why is intentionally incorrect or misleading. Fake news is not simply mistaken; it is intentionally false. When recognized, fake news sets off the alarm in our internal lie detector. The good news is that there is an increasing array of high quality lie detectors out there to help us tell truth from lie. The bad news is that some of those presumed lie dete...

Whenever we are in a new situation or starting a new relationship, it's usually time for a little ice breaker. This is never quite so true as at work with a new co-worker. This episode of Audio Tidbits Podcast shares the ice breaker Ava used with her new colleague. You may find it may work for you.

Part III Relationship Building

Chapter 10 Relationships that Fail

To this point, we have focused on the crisis intervention process and have developed an understanding of crisis communication. Relationship building moves our knowledge and skills in working with people one step farther. As we have seen, crises always involve conflict in the interaction between individuals and their total situations. In the majority of crisis situations with which you are likely to deal, the conflict will be between the individual and one or more people. That is to say, the crisis will involve conflict within one or more relationships. Typical conflict situations reflect marital difficulties, problems in parent-child relationships, employer-employee difficulties, trouble between friends, and so on. More often than not, serious interpersonal difficulty will be a central part of the crisis, and a serious upset or disturbance within an important relationship will be seen as the precipitating event. It will, then, be helpful to look at interpersonal relationships, how they deteriorate or “blow up,” and how people can go about building relationships with less conflict that do not end up in crisis. …

A PROBLEM FOR EVERYONE

“Messed up” or severely conflicted relationships are among the most common difficulties confronting everyone in his day-to-day life. Teenagers may find it difficult or impossible to get along with their parents. Husbands and wives may find that they are always fighting, or even worse they may find that they have nothing to say to each other. Parents may gradually discover or be bowled over by the realization that they can no longer communicate with their children. Friends may drift apart and lose that special feeling for each other, although they may still continue to see each other almost every day. Neighbors may fight, co-workers may not speak to one another, and everyone is uptight. Interpersonal conflict and tension are problems for all of us in varying degrees—maybe only a little bit once in a while or maybe a lot all of the time, perhaps with only one or two people or perhaps with most people. However often and with however many people, our relationships get messed up. Yours do. Mine do. It is a problem for everyone.

Eileen, age eight, talks about her seven-year-old brother. You ask, “How do you feel about your brother?” “Ecch! I can’t stand him. We always fight. He’s always into my stuff and won’t stay out of my stuff. Things are fine when he’s not there. He comes around and everything gets awful. When he comes in, I just get up and leave. I don’t want him to touch me or get close to me or be around at all. [You ask: is it always that way? Aren’t there some times when the two of you play and have a good time? Eileen starts to cry.] He’s always fighting with me. I wish they’d take him away. I don’t want to have a brother. [You say to Eileen’s mother: it sounds like Eileen is pretty upset about things with her brother. Do you agree that it’s always bad?] Yes, I think she really hates him. [You ask: How does he feel about her?] There’s no love lost. It seems like he can’t stand her either. [You ask Eileen: How do you think your brother feels about you?] I don’t care. I hate him. He hates me too. I wish they would take him away.”

Jane, age fourteen, is talking about her relationships at school. You ask, “How do you get along with the other kids at school?” “I don’t know. I don’t think they like me. [You ask: What kinds of things make you feel that way?] I don’t know. They can be laughing and joking around, and when I walk up, everybody stops talking. Sometimes when I’m walking down the hall, other kids will be talking by their lockers or something and look over at me and start laughing. [You ask: Is it that way with all of the kids?] It seems that way.

Whether your goal is to give a stirring speech, stand up and preach, passionately beseech, or quietly teach, you need an exit strategy.

Whether your goal is to lavish with praise, turn a clever phrase, ask your boss for a raise, or merely sit and gaze, you need an exit strategy.

Whether your goal is to ride a bike, take a hike, build a dike, or play a game you like, you need an exit strategy.

Whether your goal is to walk in the rain, fly a plain, travel by train, or simply refrain, you need an exit strategy.

Sure, I could continue without angst or rancor whether your goal is to captain a tanker or to do lunch with a banker, sell ice cream in Alaska or grow palm trees in Nebraska. You still need an exit strategy. …

The need for an exit strategy is never quite as important as when talking or writing. Okay, it’s pretty important to have an exit strategy if you plan on jumping in the lake or grabbing a snake, slipping out for a break or just staying awake. Even so, if your plan is to give a speech or write an article, make a presentation or publish your novel, having an exit strategy is essential.

What is the big deal about this exit strategy thing?

At a broad level, most things are easier to get into than out of, easier to start than finish, quicker promised than delivered, and most importantly, much easier done than undone. The range of messes we can and sometimes do get ourselves into is sometimes astounding. Fortunately, most of us usually manage to avoid these pitfalls of life and living. We are normally thoughtful enough and cautious enough to keep ourselves between the lines.

When talking and writing though, far too many of us venture forth without so much as a rudimentary exit strategy. The talk we give or point we make just hangs out there with no landing point or conclusion. We know that our exit strategy was inadequate or missing when we stop talking and those around us immediately resume talking about something else as if we hadn’t said anything at all. From their perspective, that’s what happened. We said nothing worth further consideration.

The same level of non-response can also be experienced when writing without an exit strategy. Whether your words are only for sport or the text of a report, as rough as a wart or ready for court, you are hoping for a response. It’s not precisely material what you hope the response will be but a response is nonetheless anticipated. When you have personally observed a more detectable response from people scanning the menu at McDonalds, you know that you have written without an exit strategy. You would have faired better ordering a Big Mac.

Here is a pro tip for assuring that you always have an exit strategy when speaking or writing. It matters not whether your audience is standing room only or but two or three, whether you write for the ages or are just texting me, know how you will finish before you start, know where you are headed before you depart.

Whether my goal is to give a stirring speech, stand up and preach, passionately beseech, or quietly teach, I take care to have an exit strategy. I now pass the tip along to you. Please make it your first step to assure that you always get the last word.