Knock, knock, knocking on heaven’s door once more

Apart from the art classes, I can’t say that I enjoyed my school days. English lessons passed me by, other than, as were all the boys in the class, I was in love with Miss V, our teacher. Maths was spent learning the fine art of Contract Bridge, I had no interest in sports and both woodwork and metalwork were unnecessary evils that simply had to be endured week after week. No, it was the art classes that captured my attention and imagination. I loved the way in which we were supported to find our inner creativity. Nothing was off limits and, even if I say so myself, I was very creative!

I’m not sure what I learnt at school. I’m especially poor at spelling, although good at arithmetic. I have no idea where apostrophes should be used, but I can construct a great sentence. More often than not, J beats me at University Challenge, whereas I’m better able to describe and deconstruct the zeitgeist. Most of my life skills, I learnt from my parents (as Aristotle said, give me a child for seven years and I will show you the man) and I guess the rest was honed at the university of life. Against this back ground, I sometimes wonder where my love of words has come from.

I’m fascinated by the power of words. A few ill-chosen words can hurt and cause long lasting harm. Likewise, a simple thank you and an expressed appreciation can lift someone and help them feel valued. The use of ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ can make such a difference to how people are viewed. These are words we might use in our everyday interactions. Other words can be used to motivate, to inspire, to create interest and promote support and to do so across groups, communities, and populations. Of course, words can also be intentionally (and sometimes unintentionally) used to deceive.

However, my fascination with words also extends to how a single word can be used to convey sometimes complex ideas or beliefs. My use of the word zeitgeist above is an example. It comes from the work of the influential German philosopher, Friedrich Hegel, and its literal meaning is the ‘sprit of the age’ described as an ‘inviable force or influence that dominates the characteristic of a particular point in time in world history’. Hegel’s work provided the foundation for the leadership debate polarised around whether leaders have leadership traits and are ‘born’ to be leaders or whether individuals become leaders in response to the social circumstance of the time.

Like most things, there is probably a third way. I have long held the view that ‘leadership’ can’t be taught, and is best caught – that is we learn to become great leaders through experience. It is these experiences that help promote self-confidence, resilience, humility and compassion.

There are other words that have caught my attention over the years. Folk in Japan use the word ‘genki’ meaning a general state of wellbeing, feeling healthy, lively, and full of happiness. I’m not sure we have a single word that captures all these feelings. There are descriptive words that capture familiar experiences, for example the German word for when you have a tune or song that goes around and around in your mind all day and you can’t get rid of it, is ‘Ohrwurm’. Last week, there was another German word that perfectly captured my feeling and sense of where I was in the world. The word was ‘Gemutlichkeit’. It is a word that captures and conveys the idea or feeling of warmth, friendliness and good cheer, of belonging and of social acceptance.

Last week was week three in my new role at GMMH, and it was a good one. On Tuesday we had snow. Up here on the Fylde coast this is a rare event, so I was excited to see it first thing and my commute in was slow, but without any problems. Imagine my delight on arriving at the car park to find I was the first to drive over the thick snow. I must confess to regressing to my childhood, as I drove around in circles before finally parking my car. It was a great start to the day.

Later in the day, I was able to visit two of our CAMHS inpatient units. It was a visit tinged with just a little sense of nostalgia, as both units were services that I was very familiar with 40 years ago. I was able to meet colleagues and some service users too. I came across one young man having a guitar lesson. I asked him what he was learning and he said knock, knock, knocking on heaven’s door. I asked if I could have a go, and picking up the guitar managed a passable rendition of the famous Bob Dylan/GunsN'Roses classic. I think my colleagues were somewhat surprised, but I did get a round of applause.  

On Thursday, I was able to visit some of our adult inpatient services and it felt wonderful to be able to walk around meeting colleagues and service users. My yellow and blue clogs were a great source of amusement and of interest and either way, helped spark conversations. I felt very comfortable at home, and pleased to be able see compassionate care being delivered. Gemutlichkeit indeed.

Now regular readers will know I try and steer clear of politics, but it feels almost irresistible to not mention our Therese Coffey’s struggle with words she used last week. She was trying to hold Yvette Cooper (Shadow Home Secretary) to account over her reference to the ‘Kigali Government’. She said she was ‘astonished’ that Yvette couldn’t correctly name the country they were talking about. Parliament was discussing Rwanda, and the Rwandan Deportation Bill. Rwanda's capital, and where their parliament lives, is Kigali. Therese Coffey thought that Yvette Cooper was talking about a completely different country. As for me, I remain astonished that Therese Coffey has been Secretary of State for three departments and was also, once our Deputy Prime Minster. Words fail me!