I EXPERIENCED a strange coincidence this week. Though, given what this is all about, maybe I should call it a harmonious one.

I had a meeting with someone from The University of Teesside. Out of the blue they asked me who inspired me. I gave an equally off-the-cuff answer and nominated the composer John Barry.

Maybe if I had taken time to reflect, I would have said someone like Churchill or Mandela, but Barry – along with Rachmaninov and Fleetwood Mac – is my musical hero. Don’t anyone say I don’t have broad tastes.

Barry died this year and I always think it was a great shame he was never awarded a knighthood. Born in York, he seems to have been a human, approachable man which, after 50 years in showbiz, must have been an achievement.

One of his greatest scores was for Out of Africa. Its director, Sydney Pollack, said an interesting thing about his work. He said it gave the film more size than it actually had.

Put another way, Barry could make a so-so film into a great one. We all remember the Bond movies, Dances with Wolves, Raise the Titanic and the rest, but, as Barry provided the music for nearly 100 films, I’m sure many were rescued from obscurity by his talents.

Barry’s music is relatively simple – to be honest you can recognise it a mile off. A lot of people criticise him for that. But I think that simplicity, the way that his music resonates with you, is a real strength. Its appeal reminds me of the saying that a strategy written on a single sheet of paper is usually more successful than one written on ten.

When you think of it, music is one of the simplest forms of communication devised by humans. The basic tune tapped out on a keyboard and the most complex symphony have a lot in common. They appeal to our minds but also to our emotions in a way that words or pictures can’t. They take us away from bread-and-butter issues and make us think about other possibilities.

In recent months, I have been exploring how we can use music, along with dance and sport, to engage with young people who are in danger of dropping out of mainstream education.

I have been helped by community activist Maurice Dezou, himself a talented musician, so I am really beginning to understand how music can help people think about new possibilities for themselves and turn round their lives.

With all this in mind, this week, I visited the Stages Academy in Middlesbrough. It is a facility for 48 homeless people, run by housing association Riverside ECHG. Stages isn’t just a place to live, it provides practical support, counselling and training to equip people to live fruitful, independent lives.

Its facilities include a gym, a kitchen, IT suite and a recording studio. I suppose that most of the people who live there spend most of their time thinking or worrying about practical issues – where they’re going to live long-term, whether they’ll get a job, basically how they’ll get by in a tough world.

But I do hope they have time – and the opportunity – to think bigger thoughts because that’s how they’ll really change their lives.

People fail and have unhappy lives for lots of reasons. Often, they aim too high and overreach themselves. But you can also fail by aiming too low, never taking a bit of time to explore what you really can do.

My advice to the people I met on Wednesday – and to everyone – is take that bit of time. Listen to the music. Think big for yourself; and, of course, for others.