Mental Illness

Out of office reply.

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Who we are doesn’t always show up in the way we do things. Something holds us back from bringing our unique gifts to the world. In my case it has been the fear of being judged as too soft, too loopy. We end up being like (read ‘as boring as’) everyone else. May be they are terrorised by other’s judgements too. Best to stick to the narrow and straight.

Yesterday, the e-mail below bounced into my inbox, all purple and pink in Comic Sans MS. It was such a refreshing change from the bland factual one-line out-of-office replies, that I had to share it here. He spoke the same language as me and so unreservedly. Being himself fully.

The mission statement of the Co-production collective he leads is : “Our vision is a world where diverse knowledge and experience are recognised and valued in the co-production of research, services, and policy development.”

Indeed, changing the world, one connection at a time. Not losing a single opportunity to connect. Not even an e-mail from a stranger.

💛 Hello lovely,

Thank you so much for your email.

I’m really grateful you’ve taken the time to get in touch.

If you’ve emailed me, it’s probably because something matters to you. Please know that it matters to me too.

I just wanted to let you know that I may take a little while to reply.

I live with a number of long-term health conditions, so I’ve learnt that I need to be intentional about how I use my time and energy. Some days I’m happily working away with a cuppa by my side. Other days, my laptop stays closed while I take the time I need to rest, recover and simply be.

That hasn’t always been easy.

For a long time, I thought I had to keep pushing, always be available and put everyone else first. I’m slowly learning that rest isn’t something we have to earn. Looking after ourselves isn’t selfish. It’s what helps us keep showing up for the people and things we love.

📧 I aim to reply to emails within three working days, although occasionally it may take a little longer if my health needs to come first.

🚨 If your enquiry is genuinely urgent, or you’ve not heard from me after a few days, please contact my wonderful PA at pa.isaacsociety@gmail.com, who’ll be happy to help or make sure anything important reaches me.

🌿 Before you go, here’s a few gentle reminders, for both of us.

🤍 You don’t have to earn your rest.

🌱 Healing doesn’t always mean doing more. Sometimes healing looks like slowing down.

💚 Your worth has never been measured by how busy you are, how many emails you answer or how much you achieve. You matter simply because you’re you.

⚖️ A kinder world starts with how we treat each other, but it also starts with how gently we treat ourselves.

☕ So, if you can, put the kettle on. Step outside for a few minutes. Listen to the birds. Hug someone you love. Cuddle a pet. Sit in the sunshine. Read a few pages of a good book. Have the nap. The emails will still be here when you get back.

If today feels heavy, I hope you know you don’t have to carry it on your own. Reach out to someone you trust. Speak to a friend, a family member or someone who can be there with you.

If you’re in the UK or Ireland and you’re in emotional distress or crisis, you can contact Samaritans any time, day or night, by calling 116 123 or emailing jo@samaritans.org. You don’t have to be suicidal to get in touch. Sometimes we all need someone to listen.

Thank you for your patience, your understanding and your grace. It means more than you know.

Take gentle care of yourself.

With love,

Isaac Samuels OBE
Social Change Leader
Changing the world, one connection at a time.

💚 “Be gentle with yourself. The same compassion you so freely give to others is something you deserve too.”

Connection of Care

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What did I miss most when I retired from being a doctor?

Patients.

The dignity with which they put up with so much angst and uncertainty constantly inspired me. They smiled. They tried to be gentle, often through pain. I felt a deep connection of care with them. When I stopped working, I missed my patients most.

Over the last 15 months, I have been studying the principles of Hypnotherapy and learning the skills of Solution Focused Brief Hypnotherapy. Anaesthesia is to Medicine what Hypnosis is to therapy. The parallels are clear to me. The course was enjoyable and insightful, and the practice is deeply satisfying. I can now work online with my clients from this remote little village where we live. Once again, I have that caring connection with people.

The fundamental physiological principle on which Hypnotherapy is based is that of Neuroplasticity – the ability of the brain at any age to grow and morph in response to repeated use of certain neural tracks. Cells that fire together, wire together, states Hebb’s law. This essentially means that the repeated use of certain pathways strengthens them and disuse of others, weakens them.

The belief at the root of this practice is that all the resources we need are already present within us. The art is to have access to them, to be self-aware and make decisions from a place of strength, not fear.

Insomnia, weight loss, depression and anxiety, stopping smoking, grief, getting over a phobia, relationship issues and stress are the most common presenting complaints. I am fascinated with the process as I see people identify small steps for themselves that add up over time to produce the big changes they want in their lives. One or two bonus ones as well.

One of my clients was mainly concerned about her weight. She didn’t like her photos and hated shopping for clothes. Otherwise, her life was good. She shared it with her husband of 28 years. After 6 weeks in therapy, she started to comment on her relationship with her husband, which seemed to be improving. She was responding differently to the things he said and did. That really helped. By Week 8, she was enthralled by how famously the two of them were getting on. At our 10th and last meeting, the weight wasn’t even mentioned. She had taken charge of her life.

“I think I have been more positive since we started. More considered, certainly.  My responses have become calmer. This has helped many of my interactions, especially with Mike. There are people who trigger me, however, that I still find it difficult to respond in a calm way (my mother). My activity levels have been steady. I rate my confidence as being a bit improved. I am trying to value myself more and my body. I am still a very organised person, but I suppose I am ‘letting things happen’ a bit more. I find that the small improvement in my levels of confidence and interactions have made a difference.  My reactions and responses help me.

As far as happiness is concerned, I often rate how I feel and think about what little thing I could do to improve how I feel. In general, the sessions have helped me view how I act and interact with others. I can ‘hear’ your voice calmly in the background when I take time to consider how I feel. I am also good at scoring myself. 

There have been some difficult moments recently (regarding my mother), and I have managed to step back for a few days and recharge.”

I feel fortunate to have found this new line of work that is essentially a series of creative conversations.

Resource: An international School for training to be a Hypnotherapist: https://inspiraology.com/

We’re crying for softness.

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(A tapestry by Sheila Hicks)

Threads. Blankies. Comforters.

If we let it, this hard world of sharp angles and square blocks, straight logic and serrated edges can seep into us and concrete us from the inside. That must not be allowed to happen as it may be impossible to undo.

We, tender-fleshed people, need cushioning. We, supple spongy beings, seek preservation through rounded, silky, fluffy coverings. Our need to be nestled with tenderness inside the pliable delicate tissue of another’s compassion is primal. It must be recognized as the ultimate necessity for living.

To keep softness alive in a world so harsh is the job at hand in this moment.

In any moment, ever.

Secretly we’re all yearning for something that is warm, welcoming, and soft. Born into the young arms of our mother, held against her soft chest, we’re rocked gently to sleep, patted rhythmically on the back and hummed to. Lullabies ringing and sleep half-arriving into this space of trust and love. Remember how easy it was to rest into it, knowing all was well and would be well? Let it be thus again.

“Life is better when you surround yourself with people for whom kindness isn’t a strategy, it’s a way of life.”

The day is the day.

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(Credit:: Saagar Naresh. Age 12. Art Homework.)

It’s an ordinary day that starts as the sun peeps from somewhere behind the horizon and ends as it vanishes somewhere behind another at different times for different people on the globe scattered all over these continents everywhere. It is not a singular day as it claims to be.

It’s not my enemy and yet it circles around each year as a reminder of what happened as if I need reminding. It’s not my enemy even though it feels like one. It’s just another day, innocent and ignorant, asking me to sit down. Have another cup of tea.

It was nameless and inconspicuous until it arrived hiding a deep darkness within its light wearing the face of a sacred place and a robe of expansion and growth and holding a promise of transformation before I knew what that meant, unlocking the path to an invisible destination.

This endless path covered in thorns and nettles with no alternative or detour must be trodden with bare feet. It is essential they bleed.

To my desperate open eyes the destination remains invisible. When I let them close I glean a faint ray of hope.

Bad mother.

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She had been admitted to a separate room in the Birth Center because of her special circumstances. The thing was written all over her notes.

“Congratulations Vicky! You have a beautiful baby boy. Do you have other kids?” the doctor’s voice boomed from behind the drapes covering Vicky’s legs. She was grieving her first born, Oliver. Only six weeks prior, his brain tumour had ended his sweet little life. He was three. The doctor should’ve known but he didn’t. Did he not read her notes? Did no one tell him?

She kept quiet and so did her midwife, who knew. She let go of Vicky’s hand and walked south to whisper something in the doctor’s ear. His question remained suspended on top of her head like a heavy cold fog.

Vicky lay there, admonishing herself for the time Oliver had asked her for a cuddle. She was so tired, she was unable to stand up. The last few weeks of her second pregnancy and the last few weeks of Oliver’s life had mercilessly clashed and she was trapped in the middle. She wished for more strength. She wished Oliver had been home to receive his little brother. His sweet round face with blue google eyes danced in front of her eyes. The new baby had been cleaned and weighed. He lay in the cot while she danced with Oliver in her dreams.

Back in her room, the midwife fished out a smiley portrait of Oliver and set it on Vicky’s bedside table so she could see his face. Susan, her friend from the Lamaze classes came with a bunch of red roses. In those days that was allowed. “You have the perfect replacement.” she leaned down to kiss Vicky on the cheek, holding her own belly with her right hand.

Forty-five years later, Vicky still says “Bad mother” to herself for not having given Oliver more cuddles, especially the one he had asked for. She has not forgotten his smile or his suffering. She still believes her doctor was callous. She wishes Susan had not said what she said.

The kindness of that nameless midwife still brings a smile to her face and a tear to her eye.

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(On Unresolved parental grief , research says that parents who have not worked through their grief are at increased risk of long-term mental and physical illnesses. Core helps parents grieve and grow together.)