Finding wisdom in unexpected places

In strange and uncertain times, it helps to find wisdom, whatever the source.

I don’t mind admitting that, even though I am privileged to be healthy, housed and in work, I find it challenging to work in a world where we can’t meet each other in person, where I sit in the same room every day, and those days blur into a seamless stream.

In theory, as I no longer have to take the time to travel home on a train (or even a plane), I should end each day with the extra energy to put that lockdown time to productive use. In practice, I find that, most evenings, I don’t have the energy to do much more than watch TV. I suspect that I am not alone.

I was happy to find, therefore, that time in front of the TV, watching shows of varying quality, has yielded two pieces of wisdom which have stayed with me and given me much to think about.

The first came from one of the genuine joys of lockdown, a show called Grayson Perry’s Art Club, in which the Turner prize winning artist shares what he is working on, interviews other artists and, in the most uplifting part, shows artworks sent in by members of the public on a theme for that week. Perry promises to hold an exhibition when it is possible to do so - and I will certainly go to see what these times have produced.

In one of these shows, Perry described the process of art as, ‘always a dance between confidence, over-confidence and being your own worst critic.’ I am not an artist, but this struck me as a powerful expression of my own experience at work.

I like to believe that, over my career, I have acquired enough expertise to warrant confidence in a few fields - but I also know that it is easy to tip into over-confidence, and even easier (at least for me) to decide that a piece of work is no good, and that it is time to start again.

I don’t think that it is possible to avoid this dance, but it is helpful to know that we are dancing it, and that we dancing with multiple partners: our confidence, our over-confidence, and our inner critic.

The second source of wisdom was even more unexpected: the comedy show, The Russell Howard Hour (which is very funny but very rude - be careful if easily offended), in which he interviewed Brian Blessed. Amongst the stories and the jokes, he asked Blessed what advice he would give to others, and got the answer to, ‘always revere and honour talent, and don’t be jealous of it.’

The second part of this phrase had the biggest impact on me. The first part could sound like a standard paean to talent and ability, and possibly self-serving to someone who believes that they possess plenty of both. The second part makes you realise that is not advice about our own talent, but about the talent of others. It means that we should regard the talent of others with respect and generosity - and even wonder.

I think that this advice is particularly relevant to the corporate world, which can be a competitive and territorial place: where, however much we hate to admit it, we occasionally feel jealous of the success of others and protective of our own.

This might not be what we want to feel, but we sometimes feel it. Wouldn’t it be great if, when we emerge from our home offices, we take an extra bit of self-awareness with us, and consciously respect and admire the talent of others?

I have bookshelves full of philosophy, but I don’t always have the energy to engage with them in current circumstances. I am glad to be reminded that there are many other ways to find wisdom.

(Views in this article are my own.)