Life Changing Moments (When I Was 13)

The image above is a scrap of writing from when I was 13. It’s part of a moment that changed my life.

Our English teacher at the time was Mr Self , a modest, hesitant, lovely man with a quiet passion for making a difference. One day, he shook things up in class by asking us to fill in a random series of prompts. We didn’t know it at the time, but they formed the opening of a story – an absurd paragraph with odd characters and surreal details.

Our task was to take that opening and turn it into a short story of 2 or 3 pages max.

At that moment, something lit up in me.

I was, by all accounts (mostly everyone), a lazy student. Reading through previous essays, I never voluntarily wrote anything longer than I had to with Mr Selfe’s most frequent comment in red pen being “Finish this!” But that night, I kept going. Past bedtime, writing in the toilet. Page after page. I ended up with 21 pages of surreal nonsense.

When Mr Selfe handed back our books, he held onto mine. I thought I was in trouble for breaking the page limit. But instead, he said he wanted to read my story out to the class.

I remember that moment vividly. Mostly, sitting at the back of the class hearing the guffaws, watching people’s backs shaking with laughter. And at the end of it, I thought:

This. This is what I want to do. I want to write silly, funny stories that make people laugh.

And it’s led me directly to where I am today. I now live two lives: one as a facilitator and owner of Stand Up & Deliver, the other as a comedy playwright. My co-written play (with the ridiculously talented Mark Stevenson), Octopus Soup, is currently playing in Prague and is soon opening in a Polish theatre. We’re hoping for a second UK tour, followed (fingers crossed) by a West End run. In fact, we have a rehearsed reading with a star cast next month. https://jackmilner.co.uk/coming-lyceum-octopus-soup-–-july-8th (if you'd like an invite let me know via the contact page).

Years later, when I lost my comedy mojo, it was reconnecting with that 13-year-old version of me that helped me find it again.

A few years ago, I got in touch with Mr Selfe via another ex-teacher to tell him he had changed my life. I expected something tearful and moved-beyond-words in response. But, of course, it was a simple:
"Thanks you for letting me know and hope all’s well."

We all have moments like this, life-changing moments. There’s even a compulsive (if slightly maudlin) BBC Radio series of the same name. And in my other life, as a trainer and facilitator, we often talk about creating these kinds of breakthrough experiences.

But the truth is: those moments rarely hit everyone at once. More often, it’s one person in the room who walks away changed.

When Mr Selfe gave us that strange exercise, he didn’t end up with a classroom of wannabe Spike Milligans and Tom Sharpes. As far as I know, I was the only one whose life was altered by it.

So, for those of us working in training, teaching, coaching, or facilitation—it’s worth remembering: when one person has that spark, that shift, that moment—that’s enough. You’ve done something special.

I won’t ask you to share your life-changing moment (though feel free to). But maybe today is someone else’s. And maybe you’re the cause – hope so.