Turn the page…

Screen Shot 2018-02-17 at 23.12.32

The wisdom of Paulo Coelho:

“One always has to know when a stage comes to an end. If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through.
Closing cycles, shutting doors, ending chapters – whatever name we give it, what matters is to leave in the past the moments of life that have finished.

Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship come to an end? Did you leave your parents’ house? Gone to live abroad? Has a long-lasting friendship ended all of a sudden?
You can spend a long time wondering why this has happened.

You can tell yourself you won’t take another step until you find out why certain things that were so important and so solid in your life have turned into dust, just like that.
But such an attitude will be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your children, your sister.
Everyone is finishing chapters, turning over new leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel bad seeing you at a standstill.

Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them really go away.
That is why it is so important (however painful it may be!) to destroy souvenirs, move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell or donate the books you have at home.

Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts – and getting rid of certain memories also means making some room for other memories to take their place.
Let things go. Release them. Detach yourself from them.

Nobody plays this life with marked cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we lose.
Do not expect anything in return, do not expect your efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be discovered, your love to be understood.

Stop turning on your emotional television to watch the same program over and over again, the one that shows how much you suffered from a certain loss: that is only poisoning you, nothing else.

Nothing is more dangerous than not accepting love relationships that are broken off, work that is promised but there is no starting date, decisions that are always put off waiting for the “ideal moment.”

Before a new chapter is begun, the old one has to be finished: tell yourself that what has passed will never come back.
Remember that there was a time when you could live without that thing or that person – nothing is irreplaceable, a habit is not a need.
This may sound so obvious, it may even be difficult, but it is very important.

Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life.

Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust.
Stop being who you were, and change into who you are.”

Bedtime stories

All those decades ago when I was at school, bullies were visible. Their names were known. They were often big built and their demeanour, unpleasant. Girls could be bitchy, forming little clubs ousting this one or that one depending on how jealous they were of them. The playground was the scene for most unplayful activities. Lunch time was about much more than just lunch.

The only respite was that I knew when I left school I could leave it all behind and come home feeling safe. I wouldn’t have to deal with all that unpleasantness that went on at school.

Now, bullying happens over the electromagnetic waves all times of day and night, incessantly with no breaks. It can reach toilets and bedrooms. The instigators don’t have to have names or forms. They can be cowardly as hell and yet have the mean pleasure of bullying vulnerable people. The abusive messages are often un-erasable, making it possible for the victim to visit them repeatedly and being humiliated and traumatised over and over again. It is inescapable.

_94833431_zainalzbdin

In Arabic, ‘Sarahah’ means ‘honesty’. It is also a highly trending app for anonymous messaging, invented by Mr Towfiq (above) from Egypt. He says it was designed so people could have honest feedback on their strengths and weaknesses from their colleagues at work. But in the west it is the perfect platform for anonymous nastiness.

Here is some honest feedback on the App:

“The site is a breeding ground for hate.”

“I don’t recommend going on here unless you wish to be bullied.”

“Parents, don’t allow your kids to get this app,”

“This is an app breeding suicides.”

This powerful film entitled Bedtime stories by PAPYRUS emphasises the importance of keeping our children safe from online bullies.

The Change

images-1

It’s January. It’s cold, damp and dark. I feel tired all the time. All I want to do is hibernate – sleep, read, potter around the kitchen drinking endless cups of tea, listen to the radio and watch films. Is this normal? Are other people feeling the same way? Most people I talk to say they do. Those who routinely exercise, like Si, are the ones that look happy and buoyant. They strongly recommend exercise. I promise I am thinking about it.

Could it be an under-active thyroid? Am I anaemic or is this natural for this time of year? 51 is the average age for levels of oestrogen in women to drop. Could this be incipient hormonal chaos? No personal weather system yet. That must be good news.

However, the symptoms of menopause can start up to 4 years before and carry on for many years after. Just as puberty is a difficult time of change, so is menopause. Feelings of irritability, fatigue, anxiety and depression are common. Juggling a demanding job, ageing parents, teenage kids and a full- fledged household can be stressful. Collectively or individually, they can all bring on tiredness, worry, insomnia and low mood. It’s easy to overlook menopause as a cause.

Many women struggle around this time as they may be confused by their symptoms. The problem is often compounded by the fact that they are poorly understood by their partners, kids, employers and colleagues. Many are wrongly started on antidepressants without addressing the cause of the problem or the side effects of the medication.

Hormone Replacement therapy (HRT) helps with most symptoms but is associated with a higher incidence of Breast Cancer. It is the recommended remedy but is controversial. It’s best to read about it and consult a gynaecologist. The joys of womanhood!

Books:
“Is it me or is it hot in here?” by Jenni Murray
“How hard can it be?” by Allison Pearson

 

 

Every day my love is new.

All those years ago, when we were kids, we attended medical school together. The Batch of 1983 had its 3rd re-union at Cochin, the capital of Kerala in South India over the last 3 days. I travelled from snow-bound Wiltshire to lush green tropics. Many of my classmates came together from all over the globe. Some brought their families. Others brought videos of their kids doing this and that. I brought memories. We shared stories of our teachers and colleagues from our time as adolescents and young doctors at our alma mater. We felt close to each other, reminiscing our naivety, vulnerability and innocence. Nostalgia of our ‘good old days’ of simplicity, like silk threads knitted us close.

We went sari shopping. My friend chose a pale blue sari with a gold border. Her 15 year old daughter commented, “it’s as bland as playing tennis without a net.” It was exactly the kind of thing Saagar would say. He would also take great pleasure in imitating the way I say, “So pretty. No?”. Aaaaaaaaargh!!!

Looking back:

2014: Saagar went.
2015: Longing
2016: Longing
2017: Longing

If I told my plight to a river, it would stop flowing. If I told it to a tree it would shed all its leaves. I burn in this fire of longing, again and again, every day. I have become a boat of compassion filled with the gold of nothing, riding the waves in search of my beloved. I weather the tides of sorrow and happiness while my longing lives in me. I find my beloved in my longing. There is no destination no more.

An ancient parable goes like this: Once a forest caught fire and all the birds and animals of that forest started to leave. There was a bright little parrot who decided to stay. The tree that housed it said, ”You have wings. Go. Fly away.”
“I ate your fruit, I soiled your leaves, I played from branch to branch. You burn and I fly away? You love but once.”
The utterly foolish parrot goes and plunges herself in a nearby lake, comes back and flaps her wings over the blazing forest fire. Two drops of water fall. She goes back into the lake and come back with another couple of drops of water and sprinkles them over the humungous fire. The other fleeing birds and animals start scoffing and laughing at her.
“What do you think you are doing?”, they say.
The parrot turns around and says “I am doing what I can.”
Just then the Gods pass by and see this bird. They take the form of an eagle and watch her closely. They are incredible moved to see her do what needed to be done, be in the here and now and her passionate endeavours to quench the fire in and around her. The Gods wept and the clouds burst into a heavy down pour of milk.

Everyday my love is new.
I wish you the same.

“Whatever happens in your life, no matter how troubling things might seem, do not enter the neighbourhood of despair. Even when all doors remain closed, God will open-up a new path only for you. Be thankful when all is well. A Sufi is thankful not only for what he has been given but also for all that has been denied.” – From ‘Forty rules of love’ by Elif Shafak.

The sun has risen.

IMG_1022

The longest night of the year is behind us. The sun is rising. We are sitting by the log-fire swapping stories of Christmas’s past, Si’s and his sister’s childhood, drinking pots of tea, mainly to carry with it slabs of brandy-soaked Christmas cake.

We recount our holidays from a few years ago when Saagar had the pleasure (not) of dressing his first pheasant with the help of an aunt from the country.  We all took turns at being beaten by him at table tennis. He looked gorgeous in a navy blue shirt and dark-rimmed spectacles. He had just been prescribed glasses. He was getting used to wearing them and I was getting used to seeing him wearing them.

Until he was 10, we religiously left a glass of wine and an orange for Santa on the mantle-piece. He wrote a letter to him every year. I remember he always started with “Dear Santa and Mrs Santa, …” 🙂 We took pictures with him. We watched his films and we found him to be cool and cuddly.

That year his gift was wrapped in a deep blue paper with glittery stars and snow-flakes in various shapes and sizes. He found just what he wanted inside. He jumped up and down for a bit and then sat down, visibly thinking.

“I saw a roll of this identical wrapping paper in the corner of the boiler cup-board.” He said. I sat on the sofa, over-smiling, as though I had nothing to hide. The mechanics of his brain clicked away as he figured out how the roll might have got there. I made feeble counter arguments.

“Maybe he had too many things to carry so he left some things here.”
“Maybe he wanted you to keep some of his favourite paper.”
“Maybe he has kept it for next year.”
“He left that paper there last year.”

He wasn’t fooled. That was the end of innocence.

Have a good one my darling, wherever you are. Lucky are the angels that are with you.
You are loved and cherished more than you know, Christmas or no Christmas.
Love you sweetheart! xxx

 

Kisa Gautami

download

In ancient India, there lived a woman. She was happily married to a rich merchant and was the proud mother of a bubbly one year old. After a brief illness, her only son died. Her grief was unbearable. Wailing and weeping, she took her child’s lifeless remains from door to door pleading with the townspeople to bring her beautiful child back to life. No one could help her. She was destroyed.

Someone suggested she take her infant to the Buddha. She did. Through her tears and sobs she narrated her tragic story and begged Him to infuse life back into her bundle of joy. The Buddha listened with compassion and said, “Kisa Gautami, there is only one way. Bring me 5 mustard seeds from a household where no deaths have occurred.”

Her eyes lit up with hope. She hurriedly gathered up her bundle and once again, went knocking on each and every door in town. To her utter disappointment, every family had experienced death in one form or another. She realised the lesson that the Buddha had wanted her to learn. Suffering is a part of life and death is inevitable. Kisa Gautami’s eyes were now open. In the light of this knowledge, she could handle her grief. She went on to become an ardent follower of the teachings of Buddha.

Like Kisa Gautami, I have found myself at the feet of the Buddha. His teachings have brought light and lightness to my being. Along the way other divine souls have helped in unique ways.

This is the festive season for most people. Planning meals, choosing stocking fillers, selecting wrapping paper, posting greeting cards and preparing to welcome the New Year. Yay! It’s all happening. But a Saagar-shaped piece is missing. I feel for all the families who will have that vacant chair at their table this year. I hold them close to my heart. As time goes by, it does not get easier. This excerpt on the subject of ‘Pain’ from ‘The Prophet’ speaks to me. I hope it helps you too. I wish you as peaceful a time as possible.

“And a woman spoke, saying, “Tell us of Pain.”
And he said: Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the
Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.”
― Kahlil GibranThe Prophet

 

Confidentiality versus Life

Three years back I joined a club no one wants to be a member of. I became a parent who lost their beautiful child to suicide. He was 20. I didn’t think it was possible. I trusted his doctors to take good care of him. I trusted they would tell me if there was a real risk of him dying, given I am his mother and was his prime carer. I thought they had the expertise to identify and address ‘crisis’ when they saw it. Suicide was not in the script. It was not supposed to happen. I turn the fact of his sudden traumatic death over and over in my head and it makes no sense.

There are hundreds of distraught and bewildered members of this club. Common themes emerge from their stories. The commonest one is:

“They knew our child wanted to end his/her life but they didn’t tell us anything about it.”

Who are they?
Decision makers – Medics. Universities.

Why?
Because he/she is over 18, hence, technically an adult.
Their ‘confidentiality’ is paramount.

Is it?
Is it more important than helping them stay alive?

The Hippocratic oath states:
“I will follow that system of regimen which, according to my ability and judgment, I consider for the benefit of my patients, and abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous.”

According to experts[1], these are the essential components of an effective suicide prevention safety plan:

  1. Discussing the reasons for living
  2. Safe environment
  3. Identify distress triggers
  4. Removing ways to harm yourself
  5. Activities to calm/lift mood or distract
  6. Contacts for general support
  7. Specific suicide prevention support
  8. Professional support
  9. Emergency contact details
  10. Personal commitment to follow safety plan

Most of the above cannot be implemented without the help of carers and families if the person in question is seriously unwell. This has been recognised by the Department of Health, Royal Colleges of Psychiatrists, GPs and Nursing along with The British Association of Social Workers and The British Psychological Society. Together they published a consensus statement entitled[2] “Information Sharing and Suicide Prevention” in 2014, the same year that my son, Saagar Naresh[3] passed away. It clearly states that practitioners should disclose information to an appropriate person or authority if this is necessary to protect a child or young person from risk of death or serious harm.

“If the purpose of the disclosure is to prevent a person who lacks capacity from serious harm, there is an expectation that practitioners will disclose relevant confidential information, if it is considered to be in the person’s best interest to do so.”

This is still not being practised. The world of medicine is a conservative and defensive one. Until the regulatory bodies, NHS Trusts and the Government come forward to reassure practitioners that their decision to share information appropriately will be supported by them, nothing will change.

While the world carries on, innocent youngsters die from lack of support and understanding from the very people who are best placed to help them. PAPYRUS, a UK charity dedicated to prevention of young suicides[4] demands that information be appropriately shared with carers and families by all who take care of vulnerable young people at risk of suicide.

Confidentiality versus Life. It’s a no-brainer.

References:

[1] https://www.healthcareconferencesuk.co.uk/news/newsfiles/alys-cole-king_1219.pdf

[2] https://www.bl.uk/britishlibrary/~/media/bl/global/social-welfare/pdfs/non-secure/i/n/f/information-sharing-and-suicide-prevention-consensus-statement.pdf

[3] www.kidsaregifts.org

[4] PAPYRUS (https://www.papyrus-uk.org/)