When I was 23 and in my first job (utterly loving it) at the Industrial Society, I was told that some old admiral was coming to join the team and his desk was going to face mine. He was wonderful. And his desk was totally beautiful – utterly and deeply tidy. The pencils were all pointed and in rows. He used to gaze across at my desk -  a tip! He has a very lovely mouth that formed into half smiles. And that was the look he used to give me about my desk.

It must have been a nightmare for him being around me. This was a man who had been there to witness the atrocities of the Japanese invasion in Shanghai, who had been at the sinking of the Bismarck and the Scharnhorst,  been at the Dunkirk evacuation, who had liberated POW’s in Japanese camps and was one of the first into Nagasaki. None of this did I know or bother to find out. And never, ever, not once in the two years that we sat opposite each other did he ever once make me feel like the silly child that I must have been. He did though repeatedly and unsuccessfully tell me to tidy my desk. He also used to say to me – when I was off to do something that he knew I was worried about – “stomach in,  chest out”. He was a deeply affectionate man and I knew he cared for me too.

May I care for young people as he did. And may I remember as I get older that young people aren’t really much interested in past glories.

Where do you turn for new insights, or to throw yourself into the unfamiliar? Do you have to take a year out and travel the globe? Or should you simply go out in your own street and see it through another person’s eyes?

I explained the Common Purpose 360 Day (an invitation from Common Purpose to do exactly that, and challenge the way you see the world), to my daughter last week. She started giggling. She said that I had pestered her all her life to “never judge anyone until you had walked a mile in their shoes”. She said that she had discovered the perfect response to my lecturing…you should do it, because then by the time the person you are judging has figured out what you are up to, you are a mile away and have their shoes! I fear that I am not a serious parent.

Her giggling came the day before she threw me, unplanned, way out into unfamiliar territory, because she fell and fractured her skull. It has been a grim and frightening week and her recovery sounds like it will be lengthy. I have spent hours and hours in different levels of serious casualty wards – seriously out of the familiar and challenging the way that I see the world.

So what have I learnt, or re-learnt?

• How impatient I am and how much stress that puts on people around me
• How easily I slide into the “group speak” of being horrible about the British NHS. At every level it has been  top notch for us, all week. I must stop adding my voice to the endlessly critical naysayers and share my pride at how impressive they were.
• As I walked down one corridor (for the four hundred and fiftieth time), I looked again at the notice board with the thank you notes pinned to it. I have to get better at taking the time to write letters of praise and thanks.
• How lovely it is watching a team do what they really love…and doing it really, really well. That’s what the emergency room was. It took me some time watching them to spot who the leader was (in fact I am not even sure I know now). I suspect it was the person (who looked least like the leader) who came and put in another drip when all the others had failed. She (or he maybe if it wasn’t her) was invisible, but you could feel her everywhere. 

Next year, I want more control over my 360 Day experience.

So what will you be doing?