Tag Archives: mentalhealth

Some Alone Time at Christmas

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I think about loneliness sometimes.

Not my own, as I rarely get lonely. I’m more likely to get lonely in a crowded room where everyone is wasting my time?!

When I think of loneliness, I think often of those who may be.

My Mum Gloria lived 25 years after my Father Lindsay passed away. My Nana Cooke lived for 45 years after my Grandfather, Pa died and she had lost both her bothers in World War 1.

I think of loneliness in our culture not as cruel, although it can be, but almost inevitable for most of us; particularly the elderly.

So, at Christmas perhaps don’t be sucked in by the Santa Clause created by Coca-Cola (Look that one up, it’s TRUE! I’ve even given you a link click here!) and spare a thought for those spending it alone.

So, every year around this time year, I start thinking about people who find this time of year hard. I am sure some, perhaps many in today’s world, feel lost, forgotten and some sit in a quiet house while the rest of the world seems to be celebrating.

And sometimes the loneliest people are standing right beside us and we never notice. I always remember Robin Williams quote about loneliness:

I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up alone. No. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel alone,”

I’ve learned over the last few years, when your own heart has broken once or twice, you start to see the cracks in others more clearly. I know what it feels like to hope someone will reach out, because you’re to embarrassed to ask, or worse afraid you do, and nobody comes.

Christmas has a way of magnifying whatever we carry inside, as the lights seem brighter, red and green is everywhere and then that moment when the sadness becomes heavier. And that’s why the real spirit of this season matters. Not the gifts or the lights, but because it’s a chance to remind people they aren’t alone in the world.

That I believe, when you ignore all the commercialism and Santa Clause, just perhaps the entire idea behind this Christmas, is hope.

Whether you believe or not, the celebration is about the birth of a bloke who later on in life would give up his life for the rest of us. It is somehow noble when we think about it in the context of war and quote: “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends,”

Just a hint, that is from the bible John 15:13. Bear in mind I’d rather mow a mates lawn than get nailed to a cross: but, you do what you have to do for mates.

Connection doesn’t have to be grand or complicated, it’s a coffee, a phone call, an invitation, or even just asking someone “How you going mate, dont bullshit me? …. And then, the hard part, taking the time to listen to the answer (Not waiting for a gap in the conversation to tell him you’ve got a new TV or you think so-and-so Politician is an idiot!).

I’m not an expert in anything, but, I do know what it’s like to feel broken and to slowly put the pieces back together. I know how powerful it is when someone takes a moment to see you, to check in, to care. I know that loneliness isn’t fixed by speeches or sermons, only by people.

So this Christmas, I’m reminding myself to look around more carefully.
To notice the person who seems a little quiet.
To reach out instead of assuming they’re okay.
To make room at the table, or the shed, or wherever people gather for someone else.

And, today I heard at a lunch with mates, a few saying they were going to ring, or visit someone and that ‘someone’ died before they got to visit them. Think of someone, ring or visit that someone, now! That when you get around to it may never come….

Because none of us get through life alone.
And none of us should have to face Christmas feeling forgotten.

We may not be able to heal every hurt, but we can sure make someone feel seen.
We can remind each other that this world is less cold than it sometimes feels.
And we can offer the simplest Christmas gift of all, connection and our time.

If you’re struggling this year, please know this: You are not invisible, to me, you matter to me, and even in your hardest moments, you are not walking alone.

It’s Jesus’s Birthday, he’d want us to celebrate!

We Are Australian — Not Because We Wave Flags and sing the national Anthem, but, because… “I am, YOU are, WE are Australian”

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(Note to reader – no pictures this time as I just had to write and post?! – Sorry about the typo’s and spelling errors!)

“If guns kill people, pencils misspell words, cars drink drive, cutlery makes us fat, lighters set bushfires.”


Yesterday. many people were murdered. Australians were murdered and our guests, in Sydney, in Bondi…”

These words, remind us of something important. It isn’t objects, or sensationalised video future of Australians doing what they do, that define tragedy or its cause.

It isn’t simplistic slogans and thoughts. It isn’t panic or division, it’s the human condition, greed, creed, ideology, doctrine, the raw unfortunateness of madness.

And with the promise of more laws slapping on bans, we’re again being told to be afraid and divided instead, from our mates.

Australians don’t scare easy. That’s not in our DNA. From the Dreamtime to the prison ships, from the diggers at Gallipoli to the stories our bush poets wrote that inspired generations, songwriters have sung, what makes us Australian isn’t fear, it’s resilience and looking after each other.

The Seekers got one thing right in We Are Australian.

“We are one, but we are many… We share a dream and sing with one voice: I am, you are, we are Australian.”

That dream isn’t a political slogan. It’s about community, shared struggle, shared strength.

That’s the same spirit John Williamson captured in True Blue, the idea of being fair dinkum, genuine, authentic, and loyal to your mates. True blue isn’t about exclusion or fear. It’s about being good people who look out for one another, stand up when times are tough, and don’t hide behind catchy headlines or fear mongering.

And, Redgum’s I Was Only Nineteen ,haunting ballad about the cost of war, about men in suits sending our young to die in countries they’ve never heard of, in wars they dont understand.

These songs, these Australian anthems, remind us that mate ship isn’t rhetorical, it’s lived in hardship, fire, drought, flood and blood and memory. That song isn’t an anthem about politics, it’s about people.

We are better than fear and division, and what God your pray to.

We don’t need more bans, more fear, more “solutions” that really just divide us and strip away liberty. We need mates ship, empathy and mostly we need to look after each other, especially when the world feels mad, and bad and poor and always on the brink of war.

Australian’s don’t bend easily, . We don’t roll over when someone tells us to be scared or to choose sides. That’s not who Australians are.

And speaking of being ripped off, let’s talk resources, how then ‘popular’ elite that govern us have decided what happens to what we all own.

We are a resource-rich nation, really rich. But, most of the massive profits from our minerals, gas and coal don’t actually make their way back into the community that owns those resources. According to my research, mining taxes and royalties combined make up only about five cents of every dollar of government revenue, despite mining being one of the most profitable sectors. Much of that revenue goes overseas, or into corporate structures designed to minimise tax, sometimes illegally, but most often legally because the system lets them. Many gas fields and resources are exported royalty-free or pay minimal tax, leaving the public, the owners of those resources, with far less than they should receive.

We need to ask, if these companies are digging up our land, exporting our resources and enriching shareholders overseas, why are we not seeing a fair share of that wealth reflected in better hospitals, better schools, better regional services, better support for veterans and struggling communities.

That’s not sovereign wealth. That’s selling the farm and being told we’re lucky they bought it.

Our leaders aren’t always the best qualified, so they hire consultants, for billions, YES billions of dollars, and tell politicians what they want to hear.

Let’s be real. Big politics is often about big egos and small accountability. Hire a consultant and get the answers you want, in black and white, from the experts.

We deserve better, NO we need to start demanding better.. We deserve leaders with backbone, vision, and real understanding of public good over private profit.

So what do we do?

We lean into what makes us Australian. Mateship, you help a mate when he’s in a fight. A fair go, we give it, and we expect it back. Resilience, we don’t cower, we stand up. Truth, we call out bullshit when we see it.

We remember the stories, the songs, the history, the shared struggles. That’s what being Australian really means, not fear, not division, not spin and sensational headlines.

We are better than our fear. We are better than the cheap narratives sold to us to distract us. We are still the people who sing I Am Australian and mean it, because we understand it’s about people, not slogans.

And, this is not a call to ‘action.’
This is a call ‘‘thought.’
It is a call to ‘truth.’
It is a call to “not only some mates looking after some of us, but, all of us looking out for all our mates.’

And, as our mates have lost their lives in the last day or so, we saw when the fighting gets tough and Australian is not who you want to have that fight with. We’d rather have a beer, a chat and sort it out that way. But, somehow we got into a struggle where a bloke born in this country, and his Dad, somehow!!!!, thought it was okay to kill his fellow Australians.

My heart breaks, for those murdered, those injured and those that this day will now define them. But, my heart rejoices in seeing the spirit of Australians in this tragedy, helping their mates, running towards danger for their mates, protecting there mates with their own bodies, getting together and saying we will not live in fear…. And making the ultimate sacrifice because:

No one has greater love than to lay down his life for his friends,”

I am in shock still, I wonder, why we have come to this. My Dad was a Truckee, my Mum a primary school teacher, and we didn’t have much. But, we were happy, and we had our community, a diverse group of countries we were born in and came here from, religions, skin colour, languages spoken at home, sexual orientation, men and women, gays and straights, but, we knew one thing, if they called we went, and if I called I knew they would come.

Because, that’s what Australian’s do.

The only ‘pub test’ was after, wether you were having a soft drink or ‘necking a beer’, because we did it together.

Thanks mate….

PS: When I was writing this I was flicking through all the news stories (with fucking tears in my eyes!) and then I came across the show ‘Love Island Australia’ being aired at the same time…. There is a fair chance we may already be fucked!!!!!!

When Life Breaks Without Warning

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I keep seeing a post on Facebook where an old work associate is breaking and sharing his pain on numerous posts. Many kind people are replying with their love and support. It doesn’t seem to be helping.

Today he posted about ‘seeing himself’ and understanding things he was blind to before. That is what tragedy brings you, as its unwelcome gift, a world covered in shit that rolls down hill and you live in a valley.

Sometimes, there are moments in life when the floor simply gives way.

One minute you’re steady. The next, something blindsides you: a relationship collapses, a dream dissolves, someone you love disappears from your world, or life just… turns.

A life that was going alone nicely, with hopes and dreams and something to look forward to gets, real hard, real quick, it just seems life suddenly got very cruel. Bad things mostly happen quickly, without warning.

And, they happen without asking permission.

Hearts don’t crack politely, minds don’t break with affection.

They break loudly, silently, suddenly. That suddenness fills your life with grief, rejection, loneliness, uncertainty, tragedy, betrayal, and mostly, a pain in your chest, heart, head that seems impossible to bear. The reasons are endless, but the feeling is unmistakable.

And in those moments where nothing makes sense, where you’re left staring at the pieces thinking, “How the hell did this happen?” there’s an ancient line from an old shepherd-turned-king that still hits the human heart squarely:

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”
Psalm 34:18

Now, whether you see that as literal truth from a higher power, or as ancient poetry describing what humans have always hoped was true, the message lands the same:

You are not alone in your pain.

David, the guy who wrote that verse, lived a life that swung between triumphs and absolute disasters. He wasn’t preaching theory he was naming something he had survived. Something we all have survived in our own way: the belief (or maybe just the stubborn hope) that even in disaster, we’re not completely abandoned.

(PS: ‘Fact Check’ on the bloke above. The ‘rock-slingers’ in ancient armies were the most feared combatants as they could kill you from 50 yards away with a single stone. ‘Little Rock Slingers’ easily killed big giant dudes with armour and swords by hitting them in the head with a rock. A fact, not a miracle!)

The funny part about the Old Testament in the Bible is that its a horror story, filled mostly with bad people doing bad things and getting pulled out of the shit at deaths’ knock by a God they’ve just been ignoring while they worship golden cows, having orgies and getting on the piss. (I’d get rid of the Old Testament if I was doing a rewrite – not that I’ve read it all, to much begetting of sons and fathers!)

So, when it comes to tragedy, ask yourself quietly: Is your heart broken? Is your spirit crushed?

If so… take this next part however you need it:

From a religious point of view: God is near.
Or if you don’t believe in “God” or any higher power perhaps consider the truth in any case:

Comfort is near.
Meaning is near.
A way through is near.

You haven’t been left to fight this alone.
You are seen, even when no one seems to notice.
You are held, even when no one seems to reach for you.
You are not forgotten, even when your mind tries to convince you otherwise.

And no, as we all know, there is no free pass from hardship.
Life doesn’t work like that.
But it does mean there is something, call it God, call it strength, call it the human Spirit, call it stubborn human resilience that steps closer when everything else falls apart.

That is how we survive. That is how we, as a species have always survived the hardships and tragedies of just living.

The Bible says God is called the Comforter, a presence that soothes, steadies, guides, and whispers encouragement into the wreckage. Even if you’re an atheist, that word Comforter still makes sense. We’ve all felt comfort that came from somewhere we couldn’t fully explain.

Maybe it was a friend.
Maybe it was a memory.
Maybe it was a moment of calm when your whole world was burning.
Maybe it was just your own heart proving it still had some fight left.
Maybe it is that undeniable resilience of the human spirit shining through.

Whatever the source, comfort is real. And it keeps people alive. Sometimes it just arrives, sometimes we may need to seek it, sometimes we may need to be the one offering.

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So, if today your spirit feels crushed firstly take a breath. Look around, and realise the world is still there, understand it is mostly happening within you and not too you. The human race, I believe has always been in good hands. We just use our gifts for a lot of the wrong reasons. And it doesn’t matter if you call those hands divine or simply human.

Life will always contain trials and hardships.
But pain doesn’t get the final say.
You do.
Your healing does.
Your next chapter does.

Name, even quietly, whatever has cracked your heart open. Acknowledge it without rushing to fix it. A wise old soldier mate of mine once rewrote a old saying into:

”Don’t just do something, stand there.”

Then give yourself permission to sit, in a divine presence if you believe in that, or simply in a moment of stillness. Not doing something and taking a moment is often the best answer.

Let the weight shift and lift a little.

Irrespective of fate, divine plans and the chaos of human existence, somehow we are all connected. Even if we don’t notice everyday, as we are cruel, unkind and indifferent to each other. I believe, no, I know under the surface, in all of us there is closeness, comfort, connection healing and better days to come..

We that are all here, are still just here, living everyday as it comes.
And that means something good is still possible, wether it be divine or not, as tomorrow will come, with our permission or not.

War is futile, and it is already here – the casualties lay in our streets everyday.

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Our Government is spending millions on missiles and billions on submarines that we won’t get for 20 years. Yet no-one wants to join the Australian Defence Force (ADF) or for that matter the Police. I think the Ambo’s are faring better but spending their well trained and highly qualified working hours sitting on hospital ramps. I think the Firefighters in South Australia anyway are doing good because they look after their people..

Funny thing is that more ADF personnel, Police and Firefighters die from their own hand than the dangers of the jobs they do. They die also in spirit, destroying family units and relationships for their duty is done and the Government throws them away. Brave soldiers live on the streets after fighting for all of us.

Australians traditionally do not behave like this. We look after each other.

Our Governments are teaching us not to.

And… Governments send our resources and young men and women to die, always on foreign soil, always for a fight picked by someone else.

Honestly, fuck the war in the Middle East; it has already been going for 3000 years. Fuck the war in the Ukraine, NATO picked the fight, they can fight it.

We don’t need to keep being ‘deputised’ to fight other peoples wars.

Fuck nuclear weapons….. especially the one that will soon be dropped in either the Middle East or Ukraine.

….. and buy the way there is clean nuclear power plants that use nuclear waste, but unfortunately they don’t have a by product called plutonium which is required for nuclear weapons. Don’t believe me check out this video: Click here

Finally, as the Government is working towards us doing other peoples dirty work and getting to fight people who are mostly just like us, but perhaps not so lucky, we can go about our lives.

Going about our lives means striving for that bigger TV, that better car, both of which are probably made in a country our Government is spending billions to protect us from. And by the way of any, if our ‘enemies’ wanted to invade us, it would be over before lunch!

So, have a nice peaceful day consuming and sleep soundly in you bed tonight because no-one is dropping bombs on us,

Toxic Charity

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I have just ordered a book by Robert D. Lupton called ‘Toxic Charity’.

In doing a bit of research, I found the below graphic based on the book.
Always remembering that research is not my forte, as I like to go full blown ‘dunning kruger’ when I can get away with it.

The strange part about ‘toxic charity’ is I have experienced it.

Particularly at the ‘expectation’ and ‘entitlement’ phases. I can attest, that it makes you feel a bit sad, even jaded, that suddenly appreciation has turned to expectation and entitlement.

Then I feel like the ‘baddie’ when I say no….?

Anyway just a little whinge. Let you know more when I’ve read the book.

(Plus, I have to do a post on ‘dunning kruger syndrome’ – because once you know about it, you can never un-know it: it is a greater plague that COVID19!!!!!)

RUOK? – What if You Are Not?

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Well the day is almost over and I am sure many of us took the time to ask someone, RUOK – we may have well been asked ourselves.

Why are we asking today, RUOK? Is it as a platitude; a response to a very well run and important campaign…. or are we asking with full expectation of any possible answer.

Hey, are RUOK?
Well, actually I’m not….

WTF (Not the answer we were expecting….)

What now?

I often ask people RUOK and get asked a lot myself. I often call people having challenges in life; I ask RUOK on 365 days of the year…

I often tell people I call, that if ‘well meaning’ people ring up and ask if they are okay and then say “If there is anything I can do, let me know”. I tell them to reply “Well as a matter of fact there is….” (It is important that the ending of this sentence says something along the lines of….) ….. “Can you come around and wash my car?” “Can you do my washing?” “Can you come around and clean my house / wash my windows / weed the garden…. etc etc.”

And…. the silence on the line will be deafening.

Okay, this is a bit cruel (but you may get your car washed!) but, the point is by making that phone call you have already done more than most.

I have a wonderful “Band of Brothers”, my beautiful daughters and friends and family from the wider world.

I am lucky.

They ask me if I am okay all the time; and when I am okay they are proud of me; when I am not okay they are there. I don’t ask them to wash the car but they would.

I know, without a hint of doubt, embarrassment, guilt, or feelings of weakness and failure, that I can call them when I am not okay… this is their greatest gift.

For which I will be forever grateful.

So, today, on RUOK day, be that person who resolves to ring that friend, tomorrow or next week.

Then when you make that call, or drop around unexpectedly, or invite that workmate for a coffee; understand that you have already done a lot, and more than most.

When your friend, relative or workmate is not okay, know that unless you have lived it yourself, you can not understand what it is they are going through. This sounds harsh and ungrateful for all your kindness… but, unfortunately it is true…. and that is okay.

This knowledge saves you expending your efforts in trying to understand it or fix it. You can then put all of your efforts in doing the easiest and best thing… just be you.

Today, I am okay; actually nowadays, most days, I am okay.

Why?

Because when I wasn’t okay, when I was as far from okay more than I could have ever imagined; I reached out and there were the hands to hold me up, and some days they carried me, in heart, mind, spirit and body.

From their love; from their actions; and often from that phone call; laugh; a hand on the shoulder; a look and a nod; I am okay. I am thankful, grateful and humbled.

Tomorrow, or the day after, or next week, month, year, I may not by okay… and as much as I don’t want this to happen; I feel safe in it…. because, of the people in my life who ask me RUOK, or give me permission and confidence to reach out and say “I am not okay today…”

Be these people; be there, ask, or reach out. We are all doing our bit which can change the world. It can change or save a life – perhaps your own.

I believe we are all here for a purpose; it may not be too evident in those dark hours; but, I believe it is true… I think we all know it. I had to go through my darkest time to truely feel that my purpose, yet unknown, and perhaps never known, was always there.

Each day, I let go, let Go, let love, guide me. Some days those thoughts, and those thoughts alone, are enough; and some days I need others; and hopefully some days I can be there for others.

I am still here.

I am okay.

… and most days that is more than enough.

The Trek

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I have spent a few days considering writing a post. I still have a lot of poems to share (groan I hear!) but think by posting one today I would be losing half my audience, and then you would be sitting there reading this all alone!

I am pretty sure my “Better Man Project” is dead. I think constant improvement is often used as an excuse for not being the best you can today; it was certainly an excuse I used.

In addition my daily Mantras have not given me the guidance they were supposed to. I was always going to follow all of them… tomorrow, and just do the best I can today, instead of being my best every day; I think there is a difference.

Those of you (well both of you) who read my blog, may have suspected I was insane; and no doubt feel vindicated after my recent stay in the Rural and Remote Ward at Glenside Hospital. But, to me this was not the greatest indicator; it was my obliviousness to the fact that I was living my favourite quote from Albert Einstein.

As we all know, me more than some I would suggest, is that the insane person does not actually know they are insane. This was me.

I wrote blogs about Mantras and Being a Better Man; but, I was not improving, but just justifying the way I viewed the world and interacted with it.

I was rarely, the best I could be each day; which could have translated with a little effort and dedication into everyday.

I so often could not control what was happening to my life. I can only control how I react to it – this was more of a revelation than any Mantra or personal improvement process. I have always had excuses for the reactions to things in my life; I see now I was mostly wrong. Rest easy I now accept this.

In accepting this I worked on a little theory of how I felt about myself and my past action:

Guilt is awareness that our actions have injured someone else.

Shame is how we feel about ourselves.

I have a lot of regrets; but little shame. I am incredibly embarrassed and regretful for many things I have done and a lot of the things I have said.

My greatest, latest, all in living colour and 3D stereo sound revelation is that I historically have not been me; the true me. I have been sold, and resold, solidified and worshiped the gods of power, anger, consumerism and possessions (No, you can’t have all my stuff for free; I said realisation, not I am becoming a monk!)

A mate recently started calling me by my birth name and he said I was dead. He said:

We all loved the 70% of our mate who was loyal, generous, smart and helpful, but the other 30% would take our heads off, rip our hearts out and destroy with a word…

There was plenty of regret in my heart plus real admiration that he had the courage to tell me. I must admit when he told me the 30% he identified, it felt like 99% of what I mostly felt; I was lucky as I think I faked about three quarters of the 70% he actually liked!

So why did he tell me? We have spent a bit of time with each other lately and he said he didn’t see any of the 30% – okay, lets call it what is; he didn’t see; an angry, controlling, abusive, malicious, self centred prick!

Why?

Because I almost died.
Because the love of my life left.
and… I broke.

The first two, precipitated the last one; the first two were a realisation that all was not good in my view of life. I actually cringed at what my epitaph may have been if I had died and shake my head at how I treated love.

The breaking was the making.

Now I am here with all the pieces, but, I am lucky and grateful that I am still here. I am lucky and grateful for the love I had – and live in hope for.

I live one day at a time. I still have food in the fridge and pay my bills but mentally I am just in this day. I have hope and realise the world is not all about me.

Right, so what? Well fantastic that I am all better today, but there will be a tomorrow.

I am still on my trek. And it is a trek which I have just started. Up until recently I have been going through life as a ‘journey’. I may actually say I was on a ‘cruise’ with occassional fact finding missions into consumerism, power and surveying the battle grounds of my self justified victories!

These ‘journeys’ through life; the constant excitement of smashing down the rapids in my rubber raft driven by barely qualified guides and being with all the other tourists who pay for cheap excitement and gratification. These were my journeys in life, but now I am on a trek.

What does this trek entail that differentiates it from my life journeys to this point?

  • I have a lot of baggage that I have to carry (I do so gladdly but have packed them better)
  • There will be deep valleys (some like ‘the valley of the shadow of death” in the Bible!)
  • Highway men will constantly be trying to rob me (Read the Media, the merchants of misery; Advertisers and the Government!)
  • There will be wonderful scenery if I bother to lift my head
  • I will be with new and old travelling companions
  • I have a destination
  • I am determined to overcome all obstacles
  • I am doing it for me
  • I do it every day and don’t have days off

I now trek through life, some days the hills are steep, the wind is against me, it’s raining, and I am tired. On days like this I need only to take one step – that way I will always be going forward.

I don’t blame the weather, the steep hills or dark valleys or bad travelling companions for my progress, for it is my trek.

Each day I will choose how I see the next step; and I will take it.

Band of Brothers

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The term ‘band of brothers’ comes from Sakespeare’s play Henry V in the King’s St Crispin’s Day speech.

From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd—
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

It is pretty inspiring stuff; there are a few YouTube clips which are worth a watch if you interested – my favourite it this one – click here to be redirected to YouTube.

During my recent mental health challenges and my stay in Rural and Remote Ward at Glenside, it was my daughters and my Band of Brothers who got me through. They talked me to Adelaide and then rallied around me. They did tell a few porky pies to get me certified and admitted to Glenside – I do have a habit of checking myself out of hospital – obviously I know more than a Doctor who has trained for years!?

I can’t thank them enough!

So, I hope the following muse conveys my love of these guys and my daughters – and all they did, and are still doing for me.

“Band of Brothers”
 
Friends,
Thank you, for accepting me,
For your honesty,
                                    Even when it stings,
 
Your commitment, is in the truth,
                                    Which you risk our friendship,
                                    To honour,
                                    This is love.
 
I am still me,
                                    But better because,
                                    Of you,
 
I lost myself in being a better man,
                                    I faltered,
                                    You were there,
 
With everything I needed,
                                    To survive,
                                    To thrive.
To come out the other side,
 
In the dark,
                                    I feel you,
                                    I am held by you.
 
You walk beside me,
                                    Pushing from behind when needed,
                                    In front,
                                    Clearing the way when
                                    I am overwhelmed.
 
Without your counsel,
                                    I am stupid,
                                    Destructive, and
                                    Trapped with myself.
 
You have been there,
                                    Through all seasons,
                                    All reasons,
And for my lifetime.
 
You are,
                                    My Band of Brothers,
                                    I love you.

“My Daughters”
 
My daughters,
Do you come from me,
They surprise me.
 
Their virtues,
Fulfill me,
And they never know.
 
… a moment,
Touch, Hug,
… smile.
 
They make this trek,
A journey,
Off the scale of fulfillment.
 
They fill my heart,
My ambitions,
I never knew I had.
 
They make me better,
Always,
And proud they call me Dad.

Churn, Churn, Churn – Poetry in Mental Health

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I wrote this poem while in treatment… and really it just about sums up the situation. The ruminating creates the rubble in our minds.

But it does have a happy ending; which I hope all your treks do.

Stare, stare, stare,
Churn, churn, churn,
The air is still;
                                    I am in turmoil.
 
Heart, brain, soul,
Churn, churn, churn,
I sit a statue;
                                    To the storm within.
 
Body, mind, spirit,
Churn, churn, churn,
Each aches for;
                                    Lasting peace and calm.
 
Alone, separate, one,
Churn, churn, churn,
Isolated in mind and body;
                                    With me.
 
Then:
 
Surrender to all,
Gone, gone, gone,
All is unreal;
                                    In thought and emotion.
 
Churn, churn, churn,
Spins into the either,
And I am here;
                                    Now is peace.

My Mental Health – Get to Know Them

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When I was in the Rural and Remote Ward at Glenside Hospital I was not alone. There were many people suffering from a variety of mental injury and illness. We had a connection as we were all from the country.

Those that know me, understand that I am not a very humble man, but being in this ward for several weeks, I faced the greatest feelings of humility I could ever imagine. The only other time I felt this was when I worked on the APY Lands – another life changing experience.

I was humble and would say “if I lost 50% of my mental capacity, 50% of my physical capacity and 90% of my wealth I would still be 90% better of that 70% of the people on the ward with me.” I was humbled and still I am.

We all had a connection in the ward of not only coming from the country but in we were all fighting our own demons – some worse than others. At meals or when chatting or even going for a walk, there was always a moment that you had eye contact, and there was that connection that is hard to explain. Perhaps understanding is the best word.

I wrote the following poems about that connection. The second one was about a lady I met who was an Aboriginal woman who had that ‘old soul’ and was what I think our first Australians are so often not recognised for.

The final poem was written by a young patient who together we shared our poetry and she was kind enough to give me a copy of this one to publish.

I thank all the patients I met in the ward – they were instrumental in my healing and recovery through their friendship, care and community – thank you.

“Know Them”
 
Abe as right:
 
“I don’t like that man.  I need to get to know him better.”
 
Where I am now,
Both physical and mental,
Is a place,
Never for me,
                                    Except it is.
                                    I am here.
 
I need to get to know the place,
I need to get to know the people.
 
As my default was “I” or “Me”,
I didn’t want or need,
The “them” or the “others”,
Ever.
 
So, remember;
The King, the “I”,
Is dead,
And he feels the want.
 
To know,
                                    The people,
                                    The places
And, their stories.
 
The King is dead,
And, I am alone.
 
I listened,
Perhaps, truly, for the first time ever.
 
Sometimes I held a hand,
Hugged the tears shed,
                                    On my shoulder,
Watched the outbursts,
Saw true sadness,
Had conversations,
Even sung a song,
Actually went to a thing,
                                    Called “group”.
 
And went for long and,
Short walks;
In doing this,
I wanted to know them better.
 
There was “Young J”,
Who was here,
From a home far away,
Isolated, as we chatted,
Of getting back there;
So much life left,
And it always shined through;
He draws me a picture,
And he is in it,
Of youth, and fun,
With hope in the charcoal,
I liked the lad.
 
Older “N” who had,
A lot of stories to tell,
Of exploits, and boasts,
                                    A stint in goal,
Always made me laugh,
With jokes and a pun, fun;
I liked the man.
 
A true soul in “T”,
With her cocoon,
Of loving daughters;
And a hubby,
Unlike me,
Strong, level and kind;
Faith held them all strong,
We cried together,
I held her hand;
Connection of pain;
To healing trust we did make;
I liked this woman of grace.
 
And “G”,
Who was like,
The cartoon “Tasmanian Tiger”,
Said, and I quote,
“I’m a morning person and a night owl as well”
Many a wise word to share,
As with her kids she said it was,
                                    “Do as you’re told”
She laughs at herself,
To hide a broken heart,
I liked the woman,
                                    But, saw her once cruel,
                                    It hurt me more than her victim.
 
In a conversation,
I met tall dark “J”,
We only spoke the once,
But it was deep,
And heart felt,
A first Australian,
With heart and soul,
I connected through,
                                    Stories of brothers,
                                    And kin,
                                    And land.
I liked the man,
                                    My respect for his thoughts,
                                    And culture,
                                    Lingers still.
 
I met an old soul,
I like the change,
                                    In me, for it,
I hope I will live,
                                    Long,
                                    Live well,
                                    Live love,
Into my old soul.
 
… and passing hellos,
… and RUOK’s
                                    Except for young “C”
                                    Who thumbed up or down,
Like in roman times,
                                    Reporting her day.
 
… many moments,
Of actual connection.
 
To much or to short,
To say the love you think.
 
It is an instant,
It is now,
My history of finding me:
… the empathy,
… my listening,
… my understanding,
It is nothing but love.
 
I got to know the man,
I got to know the woman,
The true person,
The person, I didn’t like,
                                    On judgement,
So often wrong.
 
I brought to me,
The man I didn’t like;
Me;
I got to know him better,
Through them.
 
I like the man,
I am growing into,
I like the man today.
 
Thank you,
To the people I met,
I got to know them,
And the people I have to meet.
 

“Old Soul”
 
I walk through life,
The people pass me.
 
Young, so full of life,
Those on the middle path,
And twilight in the eyes of many.
 
Today I met and old soul,
Much life was in their face,
The body no gauge of it.
 
Their eyes looked straight into my heart,
And words at moments needed,
Inspirations, connections to soul and land.
 
Fellowship kinship,
And the osmosis of wisdom,
Through a soft touch.
 
The old souls,
Are among us,
Search for them,
Find them.
 
They may find you,
In your time of need.
 
Look for the signs.
 
And in the moment,
The old soul gives,
Of time to you; 

Be peaceful,
Be grateful,
Be Non-Judgmental,
Be forgiving,
Be accepting,
Be here, in the moment,
Have belief.
 
Carry from them,
This old soul,
In your heart,
Your, Deeds,
Your new and old mantras
 
Now in;
Peacefulness,
Gratitude,
No Judgment,
Forgiveness,
Acceptance,
In all the present moments,
Of now,
Find live in the moment.
 
In journey and treks,
In life,
Find the old souls.
 
Live well,
Live long,
Live love,
Into your, old soul.

“Sylvia”

Robins are red,
My sadness is blue,
My heart is bleeding,
But, not from you.

Can you feel the atmosphere,
Can you breath the air,
Please beg me,
So I can care.

This world makes me cry,
But why should I,
You know better,
We all did,
So why am I still in this shit?