The innocence of others

How I envy the lives of those, who have never been touched by suicide. What must be the quality of their minds? Their being must be so clean, un-spattered with blood. How I miss the old me of the world ‘before’, however ignorant and self-absorbed I was. My smile used to reach my eyes. It conveyed something real and complete about me. Now my eyes thirst to see that one sweet face. My smile is a faded and false version of its former self. A nicety that makes futile attempts to cover up for a heart that bleeds all the time.

When I look at photographs of women’s faces, I can tell the ones who have lost big chunks of their hearts. Their eyes are miles away from their smiles. Searching. Hungry for that part of their story which disappeared. I know that hunger. I envy all the other eyes, that sparkle.

Oh yes. I make up condolences for myself. Isn’t it a blessing that he didn’t have to go through the treachery of the lock-downs, he doesn’t have to worry about getting on the property ladder or about nations at war or about the appalling state of world leadership or about the rising fuel prices or about increasing world poverty or about some woman breaking his heart, about offending someone by asking a simple question. And climate change. He doesn’t need to deal with all this nonsense ever. Lucky bastard.

I turned to the kid’s section at our local library to rediscover the lost child in me and found ‘Charlotte’s web’ by E B White. I loved Fern, the little girl who could understand animal sentiments and conversations. I met Wilbur, who was ‘some pig’, terrific, radiant and humble and Templeton, the annoying rat. Charlotte, the spider, was adorable, a kind and benevolent friend. That’s the world I want to live in.

I think I’ll be visiting the children’s section of the library more often. This Easter, we shall watch all three Kung Fu Panda films, in preparation for the fourth one coming soon. Maybe we can fit in some Madagascar too 😉

Invitation to the Circle of Remembrance

Towards the end of 2020, a series of phone calls with mums and dads from the USA, Australia and the UK resulted in the formation of an on-line peer support group that has met every other Saturday evening for an hour and a half. The first meeting was held in the middle of January 2021. We’ve recently had our 32nd meeting. The group provides a warm space for sharing and offers non-judgemental listening and understanding. It provides a fertile ground for post-traumatic healing and growth. We call it CORe: Circle of Remembrance.

The loss of a child is different from other losses. The purpose of CORe is to honour our children, to create an opportunity for sharing our inner and outer experiences and to seek tools and mutual understanding for establishing a firmer ground of compassion, from which to live our new lives.

Over time, I have come to appreciate my need for a tribe to belong to. Other people who are also living through the loss of their child validate our experiences, witness our pain and help us feel less alone.

After many years of trying to make sense of something so treacherous, I now know that it is impossible to make any sense of it. However, I also know that it’s possible to create a new path for ourselves. A path of learning and peace.

It has been an honour for Si and me to facilitate the CORe group of roughly 20 friends and witness their journeys. The rich, life-sustaining conversations and friendships within the group are a delight to be a part of.

It therefore gives me great joy to invite bereaved parents to a new group that will meet on alternate Wednesdays from 7.00 – 8.30 pm (UK time). Please visit the website of CORe (link below) for more details and testimonials and sign up if you would like to join.  In our experience with the Saturday group, the upper limit to attendees is 25. Once we have about 15 members, we’ll get started. The tentative start date is 4th May 2022.

https://www.core-community.com/

I was so wrong.

I thought that if his doctors would have recognised how sick Saagar was, they would have known that the best thing to do was to refer him to the Psychiatric services. They would admit him to the hospital, look after him and keep him safe.  He would recover fully, return home and resume his life as normal – play the drums, read and speak French, play cricket, go out with his friends, go to the gym, make me laugh till I had tears in my eyes and soon, return to University.

Now I know, that I was so wrong at so many levels.

  1. Recognise?

The GP didn’t think his condition was life-threatening, even after he told him it was. How much more obvious did it have to be? They didn’t believe him. If at all they did, they didn’t take him seriously. Or maybe they simply didn’t know what to do.

GPs are not trained or supported in looking after suicidal patients.

  • Refer?

If they would have made a referral to the Mental hospital, he would have waited for a long time to be seen. Maybe he would have died while on the waiting list, like many others.

GPs are dis-incentivised to make referrals to specialist services in various ways.

  • Admit him to the hospital?

No chance! That would not have happened as there would have been no beds. If there were beds, there would have been others much sicker than him, ahead of him in the queue.

Hospitals have very poor capacity and very high thresholds for admission to inpatient beds.

  • Keep him safe?

490 patients died while detained under the Mental Health Act in the year up to March 21. At least 324, for non-COVID reasons.

Ref: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-59336579

Being an inpatient does not mean –  safety.

  • Recover fully?

Many patients report traumatic experiences while admitted to mental hospitals. The treatment is often not conducive to recovery. Concerns include coercion by staff, fear of assault from other patients, lack of therapeutic opportunities and limited support.

There is little understanding of what the patient needs, to recover.

(Ref: https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/the-british-journal-of-psychiatry/article/experiences-of-inpatient-mental-health-services-systematic-review/C5459A372B8423BA328B4B6F05D10914)

I am presently reading a book – ‘Building a life worth living’ by Marsha, M Linehan. She is the psychologist who developed Dialectical Behavioural Therapy, to help suicidal individuals to build their lives. Much before she did that, she was a seriously suicidal and self-harming young adult.

I am learning so much.

Marsha M Linehan – Author of ‘Building a Life Worth Living’

Interbeing

“Suppose we look deeply at a rose. With some concentration and mindfulness we can see that the rose is made of only non-rose elements.

What do we see in the rose?

We see a cloud, because we know, without the cloud, there wouldn’t be rain and without the rain, the rose couldn’t grow. So, a cloud is a non-rose element that we can recognise if we look deep into the rose. Next, we can see sunshine, which is also crucial for the rose to grow. The sunshine is another non-rose element present in the rose. If you took the sunshine and cloud out of the rose, there would be no rose left.

If we continue like this we see many non-rose elements within the rose, including the minerals, the soil, the farmer, the gardener and so on. The whole cosmos has come together to produce the wonder we call rose. A rose cannot be by herself alone. A rose has to inter-be with the whole cosmos. This is the insight we call Interbeing.

When looking at a rose, if we can see all the non-rose elements that make up the rose, then we can truly touch the reality of the rose. No matter what we look at, if we can see that it is made up of everything in the Universe that is not itself, then we touch the true reality of that thing, its non-self nature.”

Thich Nhat Hahn.

His words brought light. His voice, peace. His presence, compassion. He said, “No coming, no going. No after, no before. I hold you close to me. I release you to be free. Because I am in you and you are in me.” I will always hold you close to me, dear Father of Mindfulness.

I inter-am with you, wherever you may be.

Resource:

How to stay calm in a storm:

Blue words

Woke up at 3 am this morning to attend a Poetry workshop on-line, India time. Himalayan Writing Retreat made it happen for us twelve. Hard to believe so much fun and learning could happen with strangers, sitting thousands of miles apart. Here’s what came out of it. Looking forward to much much more. Today’s Haibun:

She is decimated – an earthen clay pot, once holding colourless water in a colourless circle, now dust. She watches this happen to her, as if from outer space. As she zooms in, she can touch the wetness of what is spilt all over the marbled floor. It is possibly still within reach, this source of life. Drop by drop, she picks it up and adds it into her tumbler of tears. It magically swirls into an aquamarine blue – deeper than the deepest ocean and sky. The blue of life. Yes. It is blue and all of it, her very own.  

She colours her words with it. The words that were once, blood red.

Her walls, her flowers, her friendships.

Now she has this blue, she’s complete again. Fully of this earth.

dancing flame . . .

finding myself

in the mirror again

(Resource: Learn to write at https://www.himalayanwritingretreat.com/)

The time is always Now.

Once upon a time there was a beggar. He sat at a street corner, pleading for scraps. Anything – pennies, food, clothing. For thirty years, he had lived in dire poverty. One day a young man came along and asked him, “What is it that you sit on?”

“It’s an old wooden box.” mumbled the beggar.

‘Shall we have a look inside it?’

“It’s not worth looking at. I found it in a rubbish heap years ago.”

‘Ever looked inside?’

“No. What’s the point? There’s nothing in there.”

‘I can help you dust it down if you like.’

“Can you spare some change for me please?”

‘Yes. After we’ve looked at the box you sit on.’

“If you insist…”

They took the rotten old blanket off the wooden box and managed to pry it open. With utter disbelief, astonishment and elation they saw a heap of glittering gold-coins within.

While we look for scraps of pleasure, fulfillment, validation and security outside of us, the true wealth of deep unshakable peace and the radiant joy of Being lies within us. Inspired by “The Power of Now”, a book by Eckhart Tolle, I’ve been practicing making this moment the focus of my attention, surrendering to what is and saying ‘yes’ to life, noticing the direct relationship between inner resistance and pain, observing the subtle life-force that flows through my body, witnessing my emotions arise and cease as sensations in my chest and tummy. I have learnt to trust myself. I have found glimpses of freedom from my mind and felt my presence as one with the Universe. Who would’ve thought this possible?

Earlier this week I had the honour of sharing some of the theory, practice and research on this subject through an on-line presentation entitled “Making Friends with Now”. Many thanks to The Compassionate Friends for making this teaching accessible to many.

Making Friends with Now: https://youtu.be/TUC6PQ3l-Ls .

Thank you Prime Minister.

Recently, our highly respected Prime Minister declared there was a need to treat ‘problem drug users’ with ‘compassion’ by investing in rehabilitation. In the same breath, he said that his government would  ‘wage a war’ on drugs by removing passports and driving licenses from drug-users to tackle drug-related crime. He rightly emphasized that drugs were really ‘bad for society’.

Little surprise that he said absolutely nothing about the invisible drug that is freely available in shops and restaurants and can easily be found in homes, clubs and pubs. Many of us use it everyday even though it causes severe social, financial and health damage. As good friends, family and colleagues we often encourage each other to use it, while thinking nothing of using it ourselves. Some of us go as far as taking offense, when someone declines our offer to use it. Yes, alcohol is a drug. It is a depressant, even though it can fool us into thinking and feeling otherwise. It causes more than 60 types of diseases and injuries.

[Courtesy: Science Direct : https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/pharmacology-toxicology-and-pharmaceutical-science/ethanol-effect%5D

Alcohol use, particularly heavy use and dependence is directly associated with suicide in three ways:

(1) through its dis-inhibiting effects, it emboldens people to attempt suicide

(2) individuals with Alcohol Use Disorders are at an increased risk of suicide as compared to the population at large

(3) alcohol consumption co-relates with suicide rates, all over the world.

Thank you dear PM for giving us a chance to think about our relationship with ‘drugs’, especially at this time of year which can be difficult for some and over-festive for others.

I wish you good company, much fun and laughter now and always. May you be blessed with lots of cake.

(by Charlie Mackesy from “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse”)

Ref: Suicidal Behaviour and Alcohol Abuse:  

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2872355/#b26-ijerph-07-01392

A report and a film.

A report published last month by National Child Mortality Database (NCMD) identifies common characteristics of children and young people who die by suicide between 1st April 2019 and 31st March 2020. It investigates factors associated with these deaths and makes recommendations for policy makers.

Every child or young person who dies by suicide is precious. These deaths are a devastating loss for families and can impact future generations and the wider community. There is a strong need to understand what happened and why, in every case. We must ensure that we learn the lessons we need to, to stop future suicides.

Key Findings:

-Services should be aware that child suicide is not limited to certain groups; rates of suicide were similar across all areas, and regions in England, including urban and rural environments, and across deprived and affluent neighbourhoods.

(No one is immune.)

-62% of children or young people reviewed had suffered a significant personal loss in their life prior to their death, this includes bereavement and “living losses” such as loss of friendships and routine due to moving home or school or other close relationship breakdown.

(Saagar was unable to return to his life at University due to a new diagnosis of a mental illness.)

-Over one third of the children and young people reviewed had never been in contact with mental health services. This suggests that mental health needs or risks were not identified prior to the child or young person’s death.

(Saagar had been in contact with Mental Health Services but they discharged him as soon as he showed signs of improvement. They did not follow him up. His GP was unable to identify his high risk of suicide despite his Depression scores being the worse they could be for at least 4 weeks.)

-16% of children or young people reviewed had a confirmed diagnosis of a neurodevelopmental condition at the time of their death. For example, autism spectrum disorder or attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. This appears higher than found in the general population.

(Saagar did not.)

-Almost a quarter of children and young people reviewed had experienced bullying either face to face or cyber bullying. The majority of reported bullying occurred in school, highlighting the need for clear anti-bullying policies in schools.

(At his Primary school in Belfast, his peers called him ‘Catholic’. He didn’t know what it meant but he knew it was not right. This went on for more than a year before I found out. When I spoke to his class teacher about it, she denied any problem.)

The film ‘1000 days’ tells us about Saagar and what we have learnt from his life and death. I am not sure what or how much the policy makers and service providers have learnt or changed but we have learnt and changed a lot and here we talk about that. The film is presently available on-line at the Waterford Film Festival (Short Programe 6), till the 15th of November at the link below. Please take 20 minutes to watch it if you can. You will learn something too. Each one of us can make a difference.

https://waterfordfilmfestivalonline.com/programs/collection-jlvwfxb8ctq

Ordinary people

Once upon a time there was an ordinary person. Making a living, being honest, spending time with the family, having a few friends and simple pleasures. Nothing special. Just ordinary.

Then they lost their child to the monster of unbearable pain. They carried on breathing and giving and receiving love. There was nothing ordinary about that. They couldn’t bear the thought of the same thing happening to anyone else. So, they went out to tell the stories of their angels to everyone. To exhibit the smithereens of their bleeding hearts. That was not easy or normal but they did it anyway. To say that there were other options that they wish their kids had been encouraged to explore. To give out the phone numbers of the good people out there who can help. To remind everyone that there was hope. There is hope.

These 3 dads were ordinary people. Now they are walking together for 300 miles over 2 weeks, making waves all over the country, connecting with people, smashing the stigma and sharing the stories of their lovely girls. Ordinary and beautiful. Just like you.

Please listen and take a look at what’s possible when love speaks and acts.