Throw me an orange

I don’t know about you, but the first time someone threw an orange at me, I wasn’t sure how to react.

It’s not a regular occurrence is it? I mean, really, who throws an orange? 

I’ll let you into a little secret; the best people. The best people throw oranges.

The first time I had an orange thrown at me was in September, 2004. I was starting the first year of university - for the second time, it’s best not to talk about the first time. I couldn’t tell you what I was expecting. It was my first Imaginative Writing lecture. If anything I was ready to turn on all the pretence and talk about the avant-garde authors I was inspired by or how poetry was the purest form of expression or my aspirations for becoming a better fantasy writer than Tolkien.

I definitely wasn’t expecting to do some Tai Chi and have an orange thrown at me.

Brilliance is defying expectations and Edmund Cusick, the wonderful man behind the Imaginative Writing course at John Moores University in Liverpool, exuded brilliance and defied expectations at every turn.

Edmund had us throw oranges so we could learn names. You threw the orange, you said your name. And after a few rounds, you threw the orange and said the name of the person you were throwing it to.

It’s a simple exercise at first glance. Look a bit deeper and there’s a whole heap of genius in the simplicity. One, it’s a very practical and fun way to get to learn names. Two, I wasn’t the only pretentious, aspiring writer in the room and straight away thoughts of talking about how I drew my inspiration from McEwan’s early works were out the window. Three, people started laughing, barriers were gone, nerves cast aside and the first bonds of friendship were formed. And four, it caught everyone by surprise and took us all out of our comfort zones into a place where magic things happen.

It will be 13 years this week since Edmund passed away and the world lost a remarkable person who found magic in the mundane, sparkled brilliance wherever he went and had the courage to do things differently.

I could write until I have no words left about the impact he had on me, the wisdom he gave me and how his belief in me was the springboard I needed to start believing in myself. I also know I am far from alone in feeling this and count myself lucky to be among a special group of people who owe a deep debt of gratitude to this incredible person.

The throwing of oranges was the first lesson. 

So while we’re still stuck in the deep, dark depths of January, enjoying the stillness of the world and hatching our grand plans for the year ahead, do me a favour, and make sure you throw more oranges in 2020.

They can be real ones if you want - let loose and go for it. Or they can be the kind of oranges that help you go beyond expectations - the ones we set for ourselves or the ones we feel others have already set for us.  Surprise yourself, don’t take yourself too seriously, don’t be afraid to do things differently, step outside your comfort zone and move into a place where you can grow and thrive in the most unexpected of ways.

Throw oranges at home, in the workplace, at university, in the gym, when you bump into a stranger on the street...whenever the need or the urge takes you.

This was the first lesson. Many, many more followed after. These lessons live and breathe in everyone who was taught them. They carry on making the world a better place. They carry on unfurling in all their brilliance. They carry on defying expectations. I can think of no greater compliment to give to the man who had the most profound and biggest impact on my life.

So, until next time, throw more oranges. And be better for it.