My dad, in his last years, lost the use of his hands and most of his hearing. It seemed like he then gave up. I finally challenged him on it, and he said “when you’re in constant pain…”.  And I got it.

So, turns out I’ve a misbehaving disk in my back, and it started pressing on the nerve over the summer. Pain scales are 1-10; this ultimately got to an 8 when I was trying to walk or even stand (from my lower back down my leg to my toes). Tried physio, non-steroidal anti-inflammatories, and then a steroid pack; nope. The ‘big hammer’ option was a cortisone injection, and that happened. Better yet, it knocked it back; down to 1). Er, for some six – eight weeks, then it came back. They gave me another one sooner than they were supposed to, but it hasn’t worked (ok, it’s knocked it to a 6 on average, but…this isn’t tolerable).  And my point here isn’t that I’m looking for sympathy, but to (of course) talk about the learnings. Because, despite the physical pain, there are learnings (good and bad).

Because there’re a physiological basis (pressing on the nerve), I’ve stuck with treatments likely to minimize the inflammation. I haven’t looked at a chiropractor nor acupuncture. Given that the current approaches are failing, those may come up, though I’m expecting surgery as the nuclear option. Not that I’m eager (to the contrary!). One learning is how close minded I can be about exploring alternative solutions. On the other hand, as it shoots down the leg into my foot, I’ve learned a lot more about physiology!

In the course of navigating airports and the like while in the throws of this (long story), I also found that the milk of human kindness can be diluted by pain. When you’re muttering obscenities under your breath because of the knives that accompany every step, clueless actions on the part of others – like stopping suddenly, blocking access, or even just bad signage – can earn muffled imprecations and aspersions on parentage and intelligence.  I’ve always tried to maintain ‘situational awareness’ (and know I’ve failed at times), but I highly recommend it!

On the other hand, when sitting (the only time it settles down), I’m expanding on my growing recognition over the past years that I have no idea what anyone else may be going through.  I’m sure my limping through parking lots and stores can be perceived as congenital damage or wear and tear. There’s no real way for anyone to know how much someone else hurts. We don’t have meters over our heads or icons.

And I’m increasingly grateful!  That may sound odd, but this experience is teaching me (and I am trying to find the positive).  Finding ways to minimize it is an ongoing experimentation. The support of my family helps, and I’ve learned (some) to ask for help.  But even an involuntary and undesirably challenging experience still is an experience.

Also, as much as it may be hard to struggle to find time and motivation for exercise, you learn to miss it. It seems every time I start taking a serious stab at diet and exercise, something goes wrong!  It’s almost like I’m not supposed to; and I know that’s wrong.  (I’ve also learned to secretly suspect my pain doctor is a closet sadist, but that’s the pain talking. :)

This is definitely not ‘hard fun‘, to be clear. This is much more lemonade.  Fingers crossed that this, too, will pass. And if you do see me limping around, cut me some slack ;).  But also, please understand that it’s hard to know what other people are going through, and do your best to be sympathetic. Which seems like the right message for this time of year anyway. Wishing you and yours all the best for the holidays and the new year!

Apparently, an acquaintance challenged my colleague Harold Jarche’s Personal Knowledge Mastery (PKM) model.  He seemed to consider the possibility that it’s a fad. Well, I do argue people should be cautious about claims. So, I’ve talked about PKM before, but I want to elaborate. Here’s my take on the case for PKM.

As context, I think meta-learning, learning to learn, is an important suite of skills to master. As things change faster, with more uncertainty and ambiguity, the ability to continually learn will be a critical differentiator. And you can’t take these skills for granted; they’re not necessarily optimal, and our education systems generally aren’t doing a good job of developing them. (Most of school practices are antithetical to self learning!)

Information is key.  To learn, you need access to it, and the chance to apply. Learning on one’s own is about recognizing a knowledge gap, looking for relevant information, applying what you find to see if it works, and once it does, to consolidate the learning.

Looking at how you deal with information – how you acquire it, how you process it, and how you share your learnings – is an opportunity to reflect. Think of it as double-loop learning, applying your learning to your own learning. We’re often no so meta-reflective, yet that ends up being a critical component to improving.

Having a framework to scaffold this reflection is a great support for improving. Then the question becomes what is the right or best support?  There are lots of people who talk about bits and pieces, but what Harold’s done is synthesize them into a coherent whole (not a ‘mashup’). PKM integrates different frameworks, and creates a practical approach.  It is simple, yet unpacks elegantly.

So what’s the evidence that it’s good?  That’s hard to test.  The acquaintance was right that just university uptake wasn’t a solid basis (I found a renowned MBA program recently that was still touting MBTI!).  The hard part would be to create a systematic test. Ideally, you’d find an organization that implements it, and documents the increase in learning. However, learning in that sense is hard to measure, because it’s personal. You might look for an increase in aggregate measures (more ideas, faster trouble-shooting), but this is personal and is dependent on outside factors like the culture for learning.

When you don’t have such data, you have to look for some triangulating evidence. The fact that multiple university scholars are promoting it isn’t a bad thing. To the contrary, uptake at individual institutions without a corporate marketing program is actually quite the accolade! The fact that the workshop attendees tout it personally valuable it also a benefit. While we know that individual attendee’s reports on the outcomes of a workshop don’t highly correlate with actual impact, that’s not true for people with more expertise. And the continued reflection of value is positive.

Finally, a point I made at the end of my aforementioned previous reflection is relevant. I said: “I realize mine is done on sort of a first-principles basis from a cognitive perspective, while his is richer, being grounded in others’ frameworks.”  Plus, he’s been improving it over the years, practicing what he preaches. My point, however, is that it’s nicely aligned with what you’d come at from a cognitive perspective. Without empirical data, theoretical justification combined with scholarly recognition and personal affirmations are a pretty good foundation.

There’re meta-lessons here as well: how to evaluate programs, and the value of meta-learning. These are worth considering. Note that Harold doesn’t need my support, and he didn’t ask me to do this. As usual, my posts are triggered by what crosses my (admittedly febrile) imagination. This just seemed worth reflecting on. So, reflections on your part?

My lass let me know there was a typo in my recent post on Transformation.  I’m thrilled that she’s reading them (!), but she triggered many thoughts about my writing approach. I thought I’d share how I deal with blogging, articles, and writing in general, as a ‘show your work‘ effort. And, in a sense, solicit your thoughts on approach, editing, and topics (amongst other things).

Process

It starts with my commitment to two blog posts a week. And I’m pretty sure I average that, since while I occasionally only get one, I also occasionally get three (say, during a week at a conference with mindmaps).  That means, however, that sometimes I’m brimming with ideas and have them queued up a week or two in advance, and sometimes I’m writing them at the last minute (*cough* this one *cough*).  When I know I’ll be on the road on a particular week, I definitely try to have them in the hopper in advance.

Regardless, I tend to write each in one fell swoop. Something sparks a thought, and I rush to get it down. Sometimes I’ll have an idea elsewhere, and jot myself a one line reminder, and need to generate the full prose. But my writing’s often like that: once I’m going, I have to let that full idea gestate. Even when writing a full book (as I’ve done a time or two ;), I outline it in a go, and then write sections in a burst.

Now, I write in several channels: my blog, my committed articles, and of course books. And, not surprisingly, I write them differently.  The blog comes out ‘as is’. I do reread it after it’s first done, typically, but as my lass discovered, it can have flaws. I reread my Trends article after posting, for instance, and noticed a couple of flaws. (I’ve fixed them, of course, similarly when folks comment in one way or another about something I’ve left confusing or wrong.)

My articles are different. I write them typically in one go, but I always hang on to them for at least a day, and reread with fresh eyes. I think that’s obligatory for such efforts. In one case, I have an editor who reads them with a careful eye, and always sends back a revised version. I don’t get to see the revisions (which is frustrating), but the articles are always improved. Editing is valuable!

For books, as I mentioned, I outline it, then write sections. And, depending on the book, the experience changes. With Engaging Learning, it had been percolating for so long it kind of flew out of my fingers onto the page.  For Designing mLearning, it was different; I outlined, and wrote, and as I got further in I found myself rearranging the structure and going back to add things.  The Revolutionize L&D book was closer to the Designing mLearning book, with two changes. I didn’t reorganize as much, but I kept going back and adding stuff. It was hard to finish!

With my books, I’ve always had an editor. The ones from the publisher varied in quality (good experiences generally), but I also have m’lady serve as my first (and best) editor. And I’ve learned to truly value an editor. The benefit of a second eye without the assumptions and blinders the writer brings is great!

Topics

The ideas come differently as well. My blog tends to get whatever I’m thinking about (like this). My articles tend to be a deeper dive into whatever I think (or we agree, with my editor) is important. I keep a list of potential topics for each, and take whatever feels ‘right’ for the month.

Books, of course, are a bigger story. For one, you need a publisher’s agreement (unless you self-publish). My first book was based upon my research for years on games and engagement. The mLearning books were publisher requests, and yet I had to believe I could do a proper job. Revolutionize emerged from my work with people and orgs and looking at the industry as a whole, and was something I think needed to be said. My latest, on myths, was also requested, but also something I felt comfortable doing (and needed to be done).

(Interestingly, on the requested books, I first checked to see if someone else might write it instead, but when the obvious candidates declined, I was happy to step up. I got their voices in anyway. ;)

The hard part, sometimes, is coming up with topics. The commitment to two posts a week is a great catalyst for thinking, but sometimes I feel bereft. I welcome suggestions for topics for any of the above as well. Someone asked what my next book would be, and I asked them what they thought it should be.  However, I’m not ready to write a memoir yet; I’m not done!  Thoughts solicited on any or all of the above.