How Mr Miyagi Saved My Career.
In the early days of my career, I asked a lot of questions. Actually, allow me to clarify that slightly. As a young Physiotherapist, I asked a lot of questions. As a student I asked very few. The last thing I wanted a supervisor to know was that I was completely lost most days and grateful that simply walking a patient and getting them to take big breaths accounted for 80% of my interventions irrespective of the presenting case.
As a new graduate, things changed. My seniors expected me not to know much and suddenly the ability to ask questions, seek clarification and gain a second opinion was routinely encouraged. Provided with an environment to embrace uncertainty was wonderful. Each day provided an opportunity to learn something new without the pressure to pass an assessment. It was a time of growth, a time to flourish and a time to learn more packets of information.
Being a young Physio was an exciting time. It meant I was no longer a student wearing a monochrome polo with my university name printed on it. I had stepped up in the world. Now I was a healthcare professional wearing a brand name monochrome polo shirt. I loved the idea that by the end of each week I would know more than at its beginning. The anxiety and apprehension of seeing a presentation for the first time was alleviated by the knowledge that a knock on the door of my colleague or a chat later in the day, would provide a gentle nudge in the right clinical direction.
As I became more confident and my caseload grew, my senior colleagues had more faith in me. Swept along by the Dunning-Kruger Effect, I asked less for help. My finely tuned cognitive bias convinced me that I’d learnt all that Brukner & Khan’s Clinical Sports Medicine textbook had to offer. Physio? Completed it mate.
I cringe in recollection.
However, over time I felt something was amiss. I was unable to put my finger on it. I felt that I wasn’t learning anything new. Surely there were better ways to manage hamstring injuries that I could learn? Perhaps there was a condition so rare I’d only ever see one and only in Scandinavian cross-country skiers, that I could learn more about? With this feeling of needing to learn more information to develop, I started my masters of Sports Physiotherapy excited to learn the secrets to Physiotherapy that were hidden from me as an undergraduate.
As I progressed along this newly chartered professional path with an inflated email signature, I realised that it looked very similar to every path I had tread before. The start was signposted with helpful information that fostered excitement for the journey to come. I had kind and helpful guides who would point me in the right way with an encouraging smile. However, as time passed, the same scenario arose. I became more confident with the new information and I stopped asking for help. Soon enough I felt a bit, well, lost.
During those times where I felt I had learnt all there was to learn (yep, still cringing), I felt that there was something missing in my working life. Surely there was something I could get my hands on that would fulfill me again? Yet, like trying to work out where the click in a moving knee comes from, I couldn’t figure out what it was. I even left clinical work for a while trying to find that feeling of development and growth again. In hindsight, I can see that I wasn’t necessarily needing to learn new things to feel fulfilled. Rather, what I needed was to use the information I had in a more fulfilling manner.
I didn’t need information, I needed a mentor. As a young clinician, it’s an easy process to find a mentor. Typically they are imposed on you, with senior clinicians you work with taking on the role. However, what happens as you become a more experience clinician. When those around you see you as competent and independent?
I think Mr Miyagi can help us here.
Mr Miyagi was my first Physio inspiration. His incredible treatment to get Daniel back in the dojo at the film’s conclusion is iconic. Watching that scene made me want to have that kind of healing power. It is also the reason I perform a loud clap and rub my hands together at the start of any manual therapy treatment.
Mr Miyagi tells Daniel-San, “trust the quality of what you know, not quantity”.
Wise man Mr Miyagi. His words encourage me to consider asking for help from a colleague, or discussing a case, as not about learning new things so much as an opportunity to reflect on what I do know. It was this approach that changed my feelings towards clinical work. These days I see my ongoing development being more about reflecting on my current knowledge and clinical approach, as opposed to the incessant need to learn more new bits of information. Mentorship is typically seen within a top-down relationship. That need not be the case. Mentorship can exist with any working relationship. It’s something I’ve embrace with enthusiasm and is in many ways the genesis of The Physio Social Club.
Mentorship provides a space to perform this important reflective part of my working life. By seeking a different point of view on a topic or situation, or a sounding board for my thoughts, I am able to ask any of my colleagues irrespective of experience. From such discussions an alternative point of view or path forward likely emerges. Every one of my colleagues can momentarily become my mentor.
By embracing the concept of mentorship, I feel like a young Physio again. Excited, interested, and optimistic about my personal and professional development. With some hard work and dedication, who knows, one day I may even find myself in a high-fashion polo shirt.