Day 967

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One of the actors at the above workshop, who is also a mentally ill patient in recovery spoke about his insights, “I realised that as long as I depend on the State to look after me, I will be met with the lowest common denominator. This brought me to the conclusion that I may not have control but I have agency.”

After I got home, I looked up the meaning of ‘agency’ to figure out exactly what he meant. Agency is an ‘action or intervention producing a particular effect’. For example, many infectious diseases are caused by the agency of insects. Synonyms to this effect are: influence, power, effect, force, means, channels, routes, mechanisms and techniques.

In effect, he was referring to ‘self-help’. He was saying, “I have the power to change my situation.” It was inspiring for me to hear him say that. That statement reinforced the message of the workshop – there is a very thin line between the well and the ill. Role reversals are common. Sometimes visible. Often not.

I came away from there with a mixed bag of feelings. On the one hand, I could clearly see the daily struggles of mentally ill patients and on the other, their brilliance shone through. I wonder how Saagar would have been, had he got through that big dip.

May the force be with you. And me.

Day 961

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Cycling again, I feel happy. Alive.
Every few hundred yards, hordes of pristine white conical lilies smile at me. The first time I saw a black and white picture of one such lily was 18 years ago. For the next 5 years it was the largest picture in our house. It filled our space and me with a sense of peace and beauty. I remember being mesmerised by it the first time I saw it. The fact that one single petal could shape itself into this exotic flower, stupefied me. The contrast with that particularly deep shade of green never fails to capture my eyes. Its elegance leaves me speechless.

It has many names – trumpet-lily, arum-lily and calla-lily. Botanically speaking, it’s not a lily at all. It derives its name from ‘calla’, the Greek word for beauty. In the 19th century, there was a flower-language boom that meant certain flowers were associated with expressing particular feelings. There was no need for words. No surprise that it was the theme of many artistic works.

The calla-lily came to play a role in the Christian Easter service as a symbol of Jesus’ resurrection. In art throughout history, the calla-lily has been depicted with the Virgin Mary or Angel of Annunciation. It is associated with purity. As it blossoms in spring, it is also a symbol of youth and rebirth. It’s appropriate for weddings and funerals. It symbolises love, devotion and grief.

While mostly white, they are also found in other colours, each one carrying a different meaning. Pink has a connotation of admiration, purple denotes passion and yellow is typically associated with gratitude. Black ones are truly enigmatic and carry a certain mystery.

“The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat’ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.” – By William Blake

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Georgia O Keeffe’s most famous painting – Keeffe Calla Lily

Day 957

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At 26, she finally sought help. She is bright, has received fabulous education, is brought up in a stable, happy household and has travelled extensively. After graduation she got a great job in the city of London but came to realise it was not right for her.

After a tempestuous patch, she has landed on her feet. Great wisdom has come to her in abundance. She has discovered that her family is her strength. She can trust them. Her mother walks right beside her, growing with her, every step of the way. She now appreciates her dog more than ever before. A drive to the coast and a stroll by the sea with a loved one is not something she takes for granted anymore. Yoga is now a part of her daily routine. Gardening brings her peace. She spends her time colouring picture books and drawing sketches.

Her creativity is finding expression. Zaynah lives with Borderline Personality Disorder and writes a blog – Not a simple mind. Her life is not easy but it is a hundred percent authentic. She shares it generously. She is determined to help others. While Facebook constantly incites her to compare her life with that of others, she knows better. She can tell real from fake. She understands she is in recovery. It’s a zig-zag road but it’s good. Yes. All this learning at 26!

“Recovery isn’t about getting back to how you were before, it’s about building something new.” – Anonymous.

In the recording below, Zaynah talks to me about her diagnosis, her recovery and the changes in her life:

 

Day 945

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The beat goes on…

Leicester Square Tube station is a short stimulating walk from there. Chinatown is mouth-wateringly aromatic. Soho is teaming with restaurants and bars of all kinds. Music of various genres flies on to the street from doors and windows. The streets are buzzing with tourists and locals of all kinds, colours and inclinations. Outlandish garbs and hairdos are normal. It is Entertainment Central.

Ronnie Scott’s is black. A legendary jazz bar that has hosted every big name. The entrance is an unassuming black and red double door. It leads into an atmospheric, intimate space. The shapely waitresses manoeuvre their way delicately around tables in black dresses with broad red belts. The walls are awash with black and white pictures that capture jazz artists in an ecstatic moment. The cocktails are elegant and the menu fit for a Queen.

A drum-kit usually sits at the back of a stage. At best, to one side. But last night, it held centre-stage in all its glory – 5 drums and 8 cymbals at various angles. It was a celebration of Buddy Rich’s 100th birthday. He’s been called the greatest drummer ever to have drawn breath. Gregg Potter and Dave Weckl played the drums as a tribute to Buddy. They led a beautiful-big-band made up of 11 wind instrumentalists, a pianist and a base guitarist. They added layers upon layers of intricacy and magic to their music. Notes slithered up and down the octaves like snakes up and down a staircase. The sound was smooth, the timing impeccable and the speed, unbelievable. It was soothing and explosive at the same time. The beats bound time in a tight grid.  The drums became an extension of the drummer. They were one.

I wonder if Saagar had heard Buddy. I wonder what he thought of him. I am sure he would have found his drumming to be ‘ridiculous’. Saagar often went straight to his drums on getting back from school. Drumming was his passion and respite. I suggested he do his official music grades. He said he had nothing to prove to anyone. He just wanted to enjoy it. He was a natural. Pity we never went to Ronnie Scott’s together.

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Day 937

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Just a rant

Another Thursday. Another musician. Another suicide.

This Facebook post brought up the same old questions. I am not the only one asking them. They are a big problem for many families, individuals and communities. But sadly, the easiest thing to do for a medic at a consultation is to write a prescription rather than invest time and resources in the individual.

“Just reading about Chris Cornell and how according to his wife he took too much of his prescribed medication, out of it, because he was on his medication. Whether it was a suicide or “accidental death” I am outraged at the system. I didn’t really know Chris Cornell’s music until recently, but I lost my dear friend, another talented musician, to a similar situation recently. And before that I lost my mom, who became psychotic when given anti-depressants and took the whole bottle a few days after she had started taking them. I am so frustrated by a medical establishment that refuses to treat the whole disease and the whole person, and so tired of people I love dying from the very medication that is supposed to prevent it. If you work in (mental) health, please consider the risk when prescribing medications. Years ago, I myself was prescribed ativan and other medications and became addicted and had to take myself off everything completely without the support of a doctor because they thought I needed medication, while in reality the medication was making me suicidal.

Medication without therapy from my perspective is no different than drinking or smoking or taking drugs. I see the system changing as the trauma-informed approach enters the mainstream but in Nova Scotia, so many mental health problems that need deep spiritual healing are treated with drugs. Drugs that sometimes exacerbate the problem, or create a whole new problem, without leaving the person spiritually and emotionally sober enough to make sound decisions that could save lives.

I look forward to the day when the mental hospitals and outpatient aftercare support radical healing on a whole-person level-the kind of work that the International Association for Human Values and Body Talkers are doing-treating the whole person and providing them with actual physical stress and trauma relief tools.

Just a rant. I’m done. Love to all. Please no more state/big pharma-sponsored suicides…”

Eleven years ago, purely by chance, I learnt a breathing-based meditation technique called ‘Sudarshan Kriya’. It has kept me strong through deeply traumatic life-events. Our breath is a subtle but powerful bridge to knowing the ‘self’. It has precious secrets hidden in it. It energises and detoxifies. It keeps us alive. If we are willing to learn, it teaches us the art of living.