placing podcasts

In the name of finding different ways to get all of the conversations that I've recorded and edited in the last few years actually listened to, I'm currently in the process of publishing some of our conversations on iTunes.

It's an interesting process. Finickety, bothersome and difficult when it should (and could) be so easy.

Anyhow. I'm doing it.

If you like you can be one of the first to subscribe to our free podcast that we're putting up there just by clicking here and following the instructions.

The first two conversations I've put up there are the one I had with Stephen on Listening and then the one I had with Adrian on his first encounter with an escort in a hotel in London. They're both gorgeous, generous men. And while they'll be followed by many others I'm very happy to put these two up first!

Enjoy - and let me know if you find it easy to listen and subscribe in this way.

More soon.

Thanks for listening.

test audioboo

I'm testing the lovely Audioboo on the blog. This is an extended version of my conversation with Stephen on listening:

And here it is again, in stereo this time:

If quality stereo is your thing and you have a nice pair of headphones then download it here.

Thanks for listening.

Oh - and if iTunes is your thing, subscribe to our podcasts by clicking here.

quite magical

A week on from the The Story, I thought I'd respond to the requests I've had with a fuller 17 minute version of my conversation with Stephen on listening, in which we talk about freedom, space and silence.

Stephen is one of the gentlest people I know. And his capacity to describe what listening feels like, what it creates and what it gives others is as natural as it is articulate.

Our conversation took place one evening before supper at the second Round Table I ran in France. It's a modest but - for me at least - a rather special conversation. And I'd like to dedicate it to everyone who's ever listened to me.

Really listened.

Here it is to download.

the story

Once a year, the lovely Matt Locke warms the hearts of a few hundred people or so at Conway Hall in London with an event he calls The Story.

Matt asks a select and varied pool of story lovers, practitioners and tellers to share their thoughts on how and why what they do. The slots are 20 minute long. The money raised goes to the bizarre and brilliant Ministry of Stories And anyone can come along. It sells out. It's a once a year thing. And I'd never heard of it until last Autumn when Matt invited me to be one of the speakers.

The line-up was a truly tasty one. My slot fell between Adam Curtis (you scared me Adam - thank you) and Cornelia Parker (who stole my power supply - I'm after you Cornelia, but happy to settle for a piece of your beautiful artwork as recompense.)

One of Matt's brilliant (or terrible) ideas is not to video the day. Brilliant because it's a live event and the sense of commitment people had made to be there is part of its uniqueness; terrible because the content was of such great quality and richness that I need to see everyone's session again.

Anyway - last night as a way of rehearsing it really - to make sure I was close enough to hitting the 20 minute mark - I recorded an audio only version.

So here it is; for anyone who couldn't be there today and for anyone who was but who wants to hear it again or share it with someone else.

And if you want to see the slides in gorgeous HD along with the sound, here they are.

The short clips of conversation I use in the podcast might be familiar to the small band of people who've occasionally followed The Dialogue Project's work at the real and beautiful Latitude Festival or in the less real (and less beautiful?) worlds of Twitter, Facebook or anywhere else virtual.

But I've framed up the clips in this podcast a bit differently - as examples of my work as a story listener, rather than a story teller.

I loved being part of @thestory2011.

Thanks for asking me Matt. Thanks for hosting it Margaret. And thank you to Richard, Rebecca, Holly and everyone else who went out of their way to make today such a pleasure for me to be part of.

And thanks to all 400 of you in the audience today for giving such an incredible sense of attention for (what was apparently slightly longer than) 20 minutes.

I'm glowing a little bit with the responses so far. I hope the session was as stimulating to listen to as it was to do.

While it's fresh: things I want to remember about how I prepared.

1) I'm glad I rehearsed - it meant I could relax, enjoy it and tune in a bit to the audience.

2) I'm glad I had my standby Mac in my bag - having a Plan B doesn't make Plan A any less exciting.

3) I'm glad I had two cups of coffee on the go: one stage left, one stage right. It meant I didn't have to walk across the stage holding a cup of coffee.

Thank you to Billy, Stephen, Chris, Jane and Dan for letting me share your voices with some new people.

And thanks too to the young people whose voices I also used but can't name.

You were heard today.

Lots.

who knew...

So - after an extended lack of blogging. It's time to briefly update things.

The picture above is of me on the BBC Breakfast show.

(You can watch the video here if you like.)

That's me. On the red sofa.

Why?

Because the ten core skills of dialogue were suddenly perceived as being newsworthy?

No.

Because it was felt that enough was enough and there should be no more trivial conversations on Breakfast TV? That it was time for an in-depth analysis of what it might mean to co-create fresh new alternatives to the stale, binary combat between journalists and politicians?

No.

It was because the work I'd done for PIzza Express had been slightly thin-sliced by various journalists and I ended up being quoted (and mis-quoted) in newspapers about my expertise in the art of flirting.

Yes, flirting.

Now, while I'm perfectly happy to admit I enjoy a good flirt as much as the next woman, I've never really considered myself an expert in the field.

So, I found it a little odd to be presented as someone who could help people with 'chat up' lines. A little odd, but not objectionable.

Harder to take was the perception that it was this skill that I'd spent years perfecting and dedicating my professional life to. (By the way, what a great idea - a company specifically designed to help people flirt. In another life maybe.)

But most people who know me - while they might point out that it was only a matter of time before my hobby became exposed - might also know that my passion is for dialogue; for conversations that go somewhere; that create movement, shift, opportunities and new ideas.

Creative conversations.

Conversations that count.

Conversations that create new possibilities, satisfaction and strengthened relationships.

(Actually this all sounds very much like flirting doesn't it? Oh well - maybe I'll live with my new label after all.)

Anyhow - the good news is that as a result of my unsought after press coverage, I've come into contact with some fascinating people and some new opportunities.

So - I have no regrets about appearing on Breakfast telly. Or in any of the newspapers that claimed to have spoken to me when they hadn't. I'm a big boy now and it was good for me to be reminded that I'm as naive as I ever was.

On the live shows at least, I got a chance to talk about what I really wanted to talk about and that was good for me. It was good for me to have to be on my mettle.

The one thing I would have liked I suppose, would have been to have a little book to point to. A lasting physical reference to the work I've actually been doing in the last ten years or so rather than touring the country helping people to come on to each other. (Read that sentence carefully.)

And the good news is (partly thanks to the attention I got), it looks like I might get a chance to make that very thing a possibility.

And so, after a 8 weeks of a long serious corporate job, I'm now facing the exciting and slightly daunting challenge of putting into the written word some of the things I've been thinking about and talking about since I started The Dialogue Project, as a direct response to the events of Sept 11th, 2001.

Blimey - a book.

Will it be any good? Who knows.

Will it be read by anyone except me? Maybe not.

Is it something I want to do? Very much so.

I love a challenge.

And anyway, at least in a few months time I can sidle up to the fascinating woman sitting in a cafe and casually remark: "Sorry for interrupting you but... I just couldn't help but notice how beautiful your ten core dialogue skills were."

express yourself

Among other things, I find myself right now helping the wonderful people at Pizza Express to launch their new restaurants in a project called Think Big.

Why would I be doing that? (Apart from the fact that I love American with extra tuna.)

Well, believe it or not, Pizza Express have decided to put great conversation at the heart of their restaurants.We started in Richmond and now we're spreading the love of conversation to Fulham, Balham, Newbury, Bournemouth and St Ives with Sheffield, Brighton and Brent Cross to come.

What Pizza Express have realised is that what people want when they go out to eat is a chance to talk - to really talk and to really be with friends, families, lovers and partners. To embrace conversation; to listen to each other, to celebrate the experience of actually being together.

Not virtually. Real-ly.

They've engaged an incredible team of people including Abe Rogers to totally redesign the physical spaces and make them acoustically conducive to conversation.

And they've asked me to help every single member of staff to understand the essential ingredients of conversation. (They even let me help them develop a new process for deciding who to bring into the team, in one of the most enlightened series of talent assessments I've ever come across.)

And... (which is for me the most important thing and my barometer for working with any commercial organisation) they actually believe in what they're doing.

Will it help them make money? I hope so - they're an ethical business.

Will it catch the media's attention? Maybe - it's a good story.

Since first writing this post the media attention has well and truly been captured and I am now fully versed in the wicked ways of sloppy journalism and certain people's predilection for fiction reported as fact. Oh well, I'm a big boy, I can take it. Here's a slightly less absurd piece by Reuters:

So never mind the hype. Does it matter? Well actually yes, in a small way I believe it does.

I can honestly say that this is a business that looks after its people. That values its people. That believes in its people. (The Head of HR started as a waitress.)

So - a company of integrity that creates great food, that believes good conversation is an important thing and a business that's putting its money where its customer's mouths are...

Why would I say no?

So - for the new teams - this is your chance to make your mark; to be exceptional; to express yourselves and to be part of something genuinely fresh and imaginative. Grasp it with both your floury hands.

And here, in the new language we've created are the podcasts I told you about, to help you get those dialogue skills running through your bodies like oxygen:

First, here's an introduction to great conversation. A big download for a small but lovely animation or you can watch it right here:

Then there's Time and Space - what we need to create in the beautiful surroundings of the Pizza Express in Richmond.

The first big skill we talked about was Step In Step Out or the way we navigate our way through a conversation..Making sure we start and stay together on the journey.

We talked about using our Eyes and Ears in the ways we listen.

There's the skill we called Take Me There - the ways we can describe things to people and enjoy the richness and variety of language.

We talked about how to Stay Close, checking that we understand exactly what it is that people are trying to express.

And then there's how to Dig Deeper, probing gently to open doors and find out more.

There's the skill of asking the question: Who Knows? which is all about keeping an open mind, resisting the temptation to assume we know who someone is and what they're going to say. Suspending that deep instinct to make quick judgements.

Don't forget how important it is to Make It Together; to build ideas and allowing even the most fragile of suggestions to grow and blossom before our eyes.

We talked about how Everyone Counts and how important it is to keep a conversation balanced by making sure we gently ask those smaller voices to take part too.

Dare to Share is the name we gave to honestly saying what's on your mind (and sharing it). Disclosing what you're thinking to everyone else.

And finally, we reminded ourselves that sometimes the most important thing we can give to anyone (including ourselves) in a conversation is Time to Think

Enjoy listening to them. And use them.

Express yourself.

in parts

So today I have finished editing the conversation between Jane Prinsep and I.

(If you want to read Jane's own words I heartily recommend her site Splintered Reflections to you.)

Jane was raped when she was a teenager and in June this year I went to Switzerland and recorded the conversation we had about that time in her life. And a few other times in her life.

Since then, the first edit of what we called why not me? has had many hundreds of listens.

It's a tough story to listen to but an important one.

It's about someone who's survived something.

Someone who's learning to be the fullest version of herself she can be.

Most conversations I record comfortably come down to a short edit of around 15 mins.

But not this one.

After I first let why not me? out of the bag at Latitude Festival this summer, it attracted a lot of attention.

Mostly for very good reasons.

Mostly because Jane's voice is one that people wanted to hear. Because (I think) it's a voice that's capable of bringing hope to anyone whose life has contained some kind of catastrophe; an event from which you might think there is no coming back.

But there is coming back. Plenty of it. And Jane is an example of someone who knows that's true.

So - partly because there was so much interest and partly because the conversation was such a rich one, I've now edited it into four parts.

In Part 1 Jane describes to me in graphic detail the rape itself. It's not an easy listen, so please if you're not in a robust place, think twice before listening to it.

But if you are in a robust place and you choose to take time to listen to someone describe an extraordinary event that you've probably never experienced, I urge you to listen to it. Your understanding and appreciation of what it is to be violated sexually will be that much greater if you listen. And that might change the way you consider things in your own life.

But if you listen to it - or you can download it here - you'll hear more than just a description of an event. You'll hear another human being dealing with what she's describing as she describes it. Change is happening in the conversation.

And it's a dialogue because that's happening.

In Part 2, Jane talks more about the immediate after effects of what she calls 'the attack'. She talks about her reaction to it. Her decision to survive. Her immediate and unconsidered defiance. She talks about the court case. The moment the perpetrator of the rape was convicted. The moment her eyes met his. And of her collapse in the court room as he left.

And then, she describes the realisation - even as she toasted the demise of the prisoner with her friends and family - that her recovery hadn't even really begun.

It's a powerful and compelling unfolding of a life beginning again. There are more details of the rape, more things remembered. Almost nothing forgotten. And a sense of a woman talking so clearly about herself that you can hear the way in which she consciously carries her journey with her every day.

Every day.

You can listen to Part 2 here.

And now today... I'm putting Part 3 out into the world. You can download it here.

In a way, this is the most 'listenable to' part of the conversation. The most ordinary.

In another way it's the most shocking. Precisely because it's the most ordinary.

Jane talks with seering honesty about what might well be construed as an ordinary marriage - is there any such thing? - on the surface. But just beneath the surface, she reveals that there are extraordinary things happening.

Jane describes to me a relationship that's unhealthy, destructive and ultimately doomed to failure but it's a relationship perhaps that many people who haven;t been raped will recognise. A relationship in which one person feels that everything is their fault. The resonance of the rape was ringing into Jane's adult life.

But again... Jane finds the courage to step out of one place and into the next.

She acknowledges that her attitude to men, sex and her own self esteem wasn't what she wanted to be. So she moves on...

And Part 4, is now here.

And after starting our conversation by talking about the act of violence that traumatised Jane as a teenager, we ended up talking about the gentleness of childhood and how she now talks to her children.

There's a short Audioboo here where I talk briefly about the title we've given to our conversation - why not me? - and how it's resonated with me personally.

But now, I just want to say thank you again to Jane, for sharing time with me and for allowing our conversation which felt so intimate and private - to be made public.

Already many people have told us both that just hearing your voice and your 'story' (which of course is not a story but your life) has been an inspiration to people. As life continues to throw its challenges towards you, I wish you all the love in the world.

Let's hope that other people keep thinking. And imagining.

And listening.

And sometimes asking the question: why not me?