I THOUGHT I had chosen something else …

Last Friday the Diocesan Board of Education held a conference at Ewood Park, for the headteachers of The Church of England Schools in Lancashire.

There were keynote speakers, including national figures, followed by an afternoon of workshops. I listened to the list of options and decided to go to one on ‘Children’s mental health’.

It was brilliant, but not what I had expected.

It started off with worrying statistics, it then discussed ways of supporting children to improve their capacity and resilience.

It was very informative and challenging and then it all changed.

“The only way to understand is to do it,” said the person leading the workshop. “And I mean all of you.”

I felt that my presence at the back of the hall had been especially noticed.

So, dutifully, several head teachers, the recently retired acting director of education for Blackburn Diocese and the current one were joined by me in a circle to go through a complete (if shortened) session. Then the workshop leader said a phrase which chilled my soul to the core …

“If you want to take your shoes off, before you start dancing …”

Now, I can’t even claim the ability of being a ‘dad dancer’. It was all designed the quicken the heartbeat, which it certainly did, before we did other exercises involving parachutes and balls.

After all of this we had ‘stilling activities’ and a meditation.

Check your heartbeat now, we were asked. We had gone from being rebellious, disruptive with hearts beating fast to being calm, reflective and relaxed.

We went onto explore how effective this was, especially with children with complex needs and who might be in the most difficult of circumstances. The presenters rightly pointed out to us how our mood had changed, how much more engaged we were.

Jesus told us: “Unless you become like a child, you will not enter into the kingdom of heaven.” This workshop forced me to behave in a childlike way.

I’m sorry to say, I was quite childish in my response to being asked to behave like this, but as it went on the assurance and peace of trusting another person brought me peace. It made me realise I need to embrace my inner child more often, not to be naughty but to be blessed.

Michael Everitt, Archdeacon of Lancaster