EQUILIBRIUM - Summer Issue

If you haven't checked out Equilibrium: Magazine for Wellbeing's latest issue (Summer Issue 49), why not?

GET ON IT.

Volunteering with Diversity Role Models

With the next issue of Equilibrium about to come out, here's another one of my articles for it, to whet your appetite!

Volunteering with Diversity Role Models

I first discovered how volunteering could warm your soul in 2007 when I spent a good portion of my week at the Oxfam Bookshop in Winchester, whilst trying to sort my life, health and head out a bit. And it genuinely made a massive impact on me; I felt honoured to be giving my time for free there. It wasn’t completely selfless; in that little bookshop on the aptly named Parchment Street, I made friends, found a sense of purpose, and co-invented our Sunday game: Shop Cricket (and got ‘caught out by Proust’ for the first time).

Now I’m living in London, freelancing my arse off to pay my rent (doing a job I love, though, so can’t complain too loudly) and working for free is something I hoped was consigned to my student days. But volunteering and working for free are two different things: one a social problem of glass ceilings and a devalued sector, and the other an act of giving to a society you want to be an active part of. So when I heard about Diversity Role Models, I knew I wanted to volunteer as a Role Model (hard to say without following the term with some kind of witty, self-deprecating remark, but I’ll resist).    

Set up in 2011, Diversity Role Models is a charity that helps schools to eradicate homophobic bullying and provide an inclusive and safe environment for their LGBT students and families. Through high-quality, interactive workshops involving role models and discussions that allow young people to explore their views and understand difference, DRM hopes to tackle the prejudice that leads to homophobic bullying. ‘I firmly believe that by providing role models for LGBT young people, we can have a positive effect on the negative statistics’, says Suran Dickson, CEO and founder of the organisation, who was prompted to start the charity after witnessing the impact homophobic bullying had in the schools she worked in. And the statistics are shocking: LGBT youth are six times more likely to commit suicide and two thirds of them suffer bullying at school. Furthermore, as they say on their website:

            …it's not just LGBT young people. Straight students are terrified of being called 'gay'.   Girls drop out of sport and boys hide artistic talent to conform to gender roles and avoid being labelled gay or lesbian.

Anyone who’s been into a school recently will know that this is an issue that affects the wellbeing of all young people, whether implicitly or explicitly.

Since its conception, DRM has delivered their workshops to over 5,000 pupils and the results speak for themselves. Over 90% of young people indicated that they would treat LGBT people better and use the word ‘gay’ as a derogatory term less in the future. Teachers and pupils that have attended the workshops have seen a significant shift in attitudes and behaviour in their schools and would urge other schools to seek their help. ‘Fabulous - should be part of the national curriculum! This workshop should be offered to all year groups', enthused one teacher who attended a recent workshop. I know I agree. I am proud to be a Diversity Role Model. The biggest payment is knowing that you’re making a difference. 

The next academic year will see DRM delivering workshops across the country, as well as continuing to work across the capital. For more information on the workshops and to enquire about booking, contact info@diversityrolemodels.org

The Politics and Power of Words

Tuesday 16th was the launch of the poetry anthology I compiled for CoolTan Arts, Diagnosis: Hysteria? Prescription: Hysteria! - the final product of the women's poetry group I ran there last year. The event had the dual purpose of launching both our poetry book and also celebrating CoolTan's new venue. They're still on the Walworth Rd, but have just moved to the other side of the road, and have - drum roll, please - an INDOOR TOILET (luxury!) and other lovely things like windows and a view. 

I'll miss their old warehouse in some ways - it certainly had character - but think I can get over that in the face of not having to use a portaloo. Though I will miss the cat from the warehouse next door, who used to flirt with me whenever it was sunny. Meow. 

It was a great event, with fantastic artwork exhibited, and fancy guests, like the local GP/sexy TV doctor, Jonty Heaversedge. We also had readings from some of the women who contributed to the book. The Forward explains the title a bit (buy the book, buy the book!), but you can also check out CoolTan's newly launched online magazine, CoolFruit, where you can read an article by one of their members which takes a closer look at hysteria through the ages. Oh yeah, or buy the book.

In honour of the occasion, rather than reading one of my own poems from the anthology, as planned (I also read some of my students' poems, who couldn't make it), I instead read a poem I wrote on the tube on the way there, inspired by/in honour of the event. I feel quite strongly about some of the issues that surround our work and the lives of the country's most vulnerable - you'd never have guessed - such as the impact of political policies and the state of the mental health services - check out my article about how funding cuts, etc, are effecting places like CoolTan (after you've read my poem, obvs!).

Let me know what you think....

The Politics and Power of Words

Your 'skivers not strivers' rhetoric

Don't give a shit about our mental health

Disadvantaged for not having a dick

And not being born into wealth

I'm not hiding behind closed shutters

Don't believe what it says in the Mail

I'm doing my best, we're doing our best

Though it feels like you're helping us fail

We know the meaning of work

Have you pulled yourself up from the brink?

Have you hit rock bottom and started again?

Have you actually stopped to think

What your language is doing?

'Cos I'm not a 'hard-working family'

But that doesn't mean I'm not contributing

To this world, with love and integrity

So, I'll write emails like nobody's watching

Read the papers like I've never been hurt

Speak 'til people start listening

And believe in the power of words

Photos of the event by Amy Bradshaw

Compassion

In anticipation of our Summer Issue of Equilibrium coming out in the next week or so, here's a sneaky peak at my little article on a lecture on compassion. Enjoy (and if you don't, be compassionate and put yourself in my shoes before you comment)...

Compassionate Living, with Karen Armstrong

Sitting in the marvelous Conway Hall on 18^th April 2013, I attended my second Action for Happiness lecture of the year (see the Spring issue of Equilibrium for my write-up of my evening with Jon Kabat-Zinn), this time to see the magnificent Karen Armstrong. Introduced by Mark Williamson and Lord Richard Layard, Armstrong’s lecture provided a historical, theological, scientific and cultural exploration of compassion and its fundamental importance to our world.

Armstrong explained how liberty and the pursuit of happiness are a modern ideal, and how happiness often gets confused with emotions like tiredness, hunger, and hormones. In an oxymoronic world of  'must-have accessories' and post-modern pressures, happiness has become something actively sought, yet still elusive; it is a mirage on the horizon.

Armstrong contextualized her ideas on compassion with a scientific breakdown of the human brain’s different parts: the reptilian brain (the deepest and oldest), the mammalian brain, and the neo-cortex. Now, you’ll have to excuse my schoolgirl knowledge of science (blame me not Karen Armstrong if this isn’t right!), but she essentially explained how the reptilian brain is the one that is egocentric: all about me; it is only concerned with the four ‘F’s – fighting, fleeing, feeding and…reproduction(!), and was not designed for an age of plenty. Next we have the mammal bit of the brain, which came next and developed in line with their new needs. So, whereas reptiles laid eggs, which they could then abandon, mammals give birth and care for their young, and they started to learn that they were stronger as a group. Thus we can see the need for compassion starting to creep into the evolutionary process. The last brain-section (I have no idea what to call it!) in Armstrong’s codification of the brain is the neo-cortex, the newest part, wherein we find the ability for rational thinking, where we can stand back from our instinctive drives. She also posited a very sobering idea that, historically, the worst human atrocities – such as Auschwitz and 9/11 – happen when the first and third brains (base instinct and objective thought: what do we want and how can we do it most effectively) are used without the second: compassion for another’s suffering.  

Armstrong suggested that we need to think globally if we want to be happy, that the trick is ‘to live with suffering’, kindly, creatively and peacefully. If we are caught up in the endless prism/prison of the self, preoccupied with our own thoughts, feelings and small lives we can never be happy. Happiness, with the essential component of compassion, comes from 'dethroning yourself from the centre of your world and putting another there'. Author of A History of God: The 4,000-Year Quest of Judaism, Christianity and Islam, Armstrong also brought theology into the debate, reminding the audience that the ‘Golden Rule’ of all religions and ethical traditions is to treat others as you would like to be treated.

In her new book, 12 Steps to a Compassionate Life, she suggests that we exercise compassion through remembering our own pain and refusing to inflict it on others, that we use our own feelings as a guide. This doesn’t mean that we literally treat others as we would like them to respond to us, as it is far more nuanced than that; we need to use our knowledge of that person as well, and not assume that their desires and responses would mirror ours. For example, the sentence, ‘Well, I would have wanted to know’ encapsulates this, as it does not encompass the crucial question: but would they want to? It takes a constant effort of imagination to put yourself in other people's shoes, but is all part of compassionate living (and why I think Drama – active empathy! – should be recognised as an important part of the National Curriculum – but I’ll save that article for another time).

Her allusion to the ‘12 Steps’, commonly associated with recovery from addiction, is no coincidence, as Armstrong suggested that we are addicted to our likes and dislikes, to our need to compare, to bitch even, and to say things like 'the trouble with her is...' – trying to ‘sum up the mystery of a person in a single phrase’. It makes us small, narrows our horizons, and does nothing to aid our own happiness. We need to let go of our opinions and take responsibility for the world's pain. The pain ‘needs to break our heart, so we reach out into the world in compassion’. This sat slightly uncomfortably with me, as I just feel that there is simply too much pain in the world for me to take on – how could I even process it and, if I did, how would my heart ever recover? But I can do my best, and I will sign up to her Charter for Compassion as I do believe we need to make compassion 'a clear, luminous and dynamic force in our polarized world’. Will you do the same? 

MARVELLOUS!

Having been told by Miss Fox that I do too many jobs where I use the phrase 'victims of multi-perpetrator rape and sexual violence' and not enough jobs where I bring home free goodies, I spent last weekend (and shall most likely spend the next two weekends in May) working up and down the country as a Bearded Kitten. Which is not a euphemism for anything remotely dodgy, but actually a jolly company offering 'Interactive Entertainment for Events and Marketing'. Meow.

So, off to Blenheim Palace I skittered to work at the Joyville funfair, to advertise two of the new Marvellous Creations chocolate bars. I won't give away my best lines, but most of them use the word 'marvellous'. Marvellous. Although I kept forgetting myself and trying to move into some kind of social theatre or philosophical commentary about joy, reciprocity and wellbeing. Or trying to expand young children's vocabulary by making them list synonyms for marvellous whilst they queued. Then I remembered where I was and just carried on jumping up and down in an exceptionally frivolous way and giving out chocolate. 

The Fox was very pleased, as not only did I bring home with me an obscene amount of chocolate, she also got to laugh at my stylish purple attire...

Like I said:" Meow!

Equilibrium - Spring Issue!

Here's the latest issue of Equilibirum, the magazine on wellbeing I produce with mental health service users in Haringey.

Check it out for a range of articles, including Alyssa's tale of her ridiculously long bike ride and the importance of taking risks, some great reviews, a bit of science, thoughts on Anti-psychiatry and the Hearing Voices Network, and some gorgeous spring photos.

Here's my article on Mindfulness to whet your appetite, or for those too lazy to click the link....

Mindfulness

On 28th March, I joined a staggering 1000 other people at the Friend’s House on the Euston Road for An evening with John Kabat-Zinn. Famed for bringing Mindfulness to the West, 35 years ago, the evening was a celebration and further investigation into this practice: ‘an adventure into the art of conscious living’. The event was run by Action for Happiness, and introduced by their chair, Mark Williamson, an organisation whose prime concern is to take action to try and create a happier world. They do this by looking both outside – calling on political leaders and those with the power to change policy – and inside at the self, in an endeavour to maximise human wellbeing.

JKZ (as I shall call him, for ease) was welcomed to the stage by Lord Richard Layard, the economist – and Labour peer – who made the economic case for IAPT (Improving Access for Psychological Therapy) to the Labour government in 2006. I was thrilled to hear Layard had not only been involved in JKZ’s mindfulness course for parliamentarians (I wish they’d make it compulsory in Whitehall!), but will also be involved in a pilot study to reform PSHE (Personal, Social, Health Education) in schools, including adding mindfulness to the curriculum. But, rather than going off on a tangential rant about the need for cohesive, consistent and relevant emotional and social education in our schools (a matter close to my heart), I shall try and stick to JKZ and mindfulness for the moment – and mindfulness is all about the moment!

Mindfulness – a practice rather than a technique, as it is something you cannot simply learn and store away somewhere, but more a way of living in the world, ideally a way of living that is practised and observed daily – is drawn from the principles of Buddhist meditation, and is essentially the act of being with our experience as it is unfolding, moment by moment. JKZ described it as ‘the awareness that arises intentionally, in the present moment, non-judgementally’. Or something like that – it was quite hard to be in the moment, listen, and frantically scribble notes all at the same time! But breaking it down into its necessary components, it is:

Awareness

This is not ‘doing nothing’, but ‘non-doing’: waking up to the world around us; being present without an agenda

Intentional 

Interestingly, he described it as ‘a radical act to wake up early and take your seat every morning’, particularly in a world where distractions seem everywhere; intentionally being in the moment, rather than the past or future

Present 

Right now, this very moment

Non-judgemental 

He talked about the importance of cultivating an ‘affectionate attention’; ‘putting the welcome mat out for things as they are’

Mindfulness is essentially being fully mindful, physically, emotionally, mentally of the now; my favourite thing he said was ‘Now is the now. Check your watch – it’s now again’. As a group of over 1000 individuals we all came together in a moment of formal meditation, quite early on in the evening, which JKZ instigated by rolling his sleeves up and saying, ‘Let’s arrive’. Mindfulness is complex in its simplicity and very hard to explain in a few paragraphs or pages, and thus actually doing it was important to the discussion. I found myself repeatedly trying to explain it in my head throughout the evening, knowing my partner would ask when I go home what it had been about. And, pre-emptive of her questioning, trying to answer: But what purpose does it serve? And, as I was trying to be mindful, my thoughts were going: Yes, it’s all very nice to have some quiet time, to reflect, but… although, hang on, we’re in the now, aren’t we? So, we’re not reflecting, we’re….what are we doing again? Oh yes, trying not to think. Eek, I’ve ruined it: I’m thinking. And now I’m worrying about thinking. Which is even worse! Arghhh, I’m really bad at this! So goes the mind chatter.

JKZ says: ‘We need to get out of our own way, to the silence underneath and between every sound’. But, as a relative novice, it’s hard not to want to shout: ‘How?!!’ Yet – and as an educationalist, this is something I hold true for many things – he says we should covet a beginner’s mind, the place where we see things newly, freshly, and non-judgmentally. He also repeatedly reinforced that you can’t develop muscles without resistance, so the fact that trying to be a human being, rather than a human doing, is hard is part of the process. And part of why this is a practice, rather than a technique. He used the analogy of thoughts as weather patterns in the mind, drifting across, which is a metaphor I find really helpful, and will certainly use to calm my chattering mind.

I worried that it could be seen as ego-centric and self-absorbed to dedicate that much time to yourself (which is indicative of both my own hang ups regarding guilt over self-compassion, and that I find any talk of ‘cultivating the garden of the heart’ flips my sceptical switch on). But – and really there doesn’t need to be a ‘but’ to justify it, but I’ll slip one in for other sceptics out there – mindfulness looks out as well as in, and is also about ‘being in wise relationship with the suffering and happiness around us’, learning self-compassion and compassion for others. JKZ also highlighted the urgency of it: destruction is woven into our human nature, and we need to take action – radical, sitting down in silence action it may be – to transform the world we live it. And although he told us, ‘You’re fine the way you are’, none of us would be worse for being mindful of the world in which we live, at this moment, exactly as it is and we are. Interestingly, in all Asian languages the word for heart and mind is the same thing; mindfulness is also heartfulness.

If you need more convincing to take a quiet seat every morning and attune yourself to the cosmos, there is also some amazing sciencey stuff to do with epi-genetics, biochemistry, enzymes and things, which I’m probably not clever enough to explain, so you might want to google. Although the crux of it was that daily practice of mindfulness leads to greater emotional balance, caused by more left than right brain activation in the pre-frontal cortex, and greater anti-body production.

If mindfulness is therefore an ‘act of love, sanity and self-compassion’, which has a positive impact on not just my emotional but also my physical wellbeing, and which also builds compassion for others, then I’m sold. And you can do it sitting down – brilliant!

Facilitate (said in the 'exterminate' voice)

Here I am, facilitating. With the fan heater pointed directly at me. And biscuits on the table. I know how to work.

There is also an errant ironing board, which has nothing to do with me. I don't iron my own clothes (nothing wrong with the shake and 'hand-iron' rub), let alone facilitate domesticity in others. For that sort of thing, indeed to make it easy (sophisticated pun on the etymology of the word FACILE-itate), I'd be better off handing over to my good friend, Lotta Quizeen.

She even knows how to fold a fitted sheet. And since I'm moving in with my girlfriend this week - and apparently the bed is not an acceptable place to leave a cereal bowl, who knew - I might be in serious need of some tips from Lotta, in the 'rituals, responsibilities and realities of domesticity'. The beautiful Miss Fox not only has high standards, but also has an impressively popular blog (it's a good thing I'm not competitive, she lies) as a platform for mocking me. Might need to up my game. And stop looking confused when she mentions cleaning products I've never even heard of, let alone knew you needed a special product to clean whatever it is she's brandishing. I wonder if Lotta does home visits?

Feedback

Everyone needs a little confidence boost sometimes. I certainly needed one this week - not due to work, just life-stress. And this fitted the bill perfectly:

I come for the educating, I stay for the compliments!

These general feelings of self-worth were also aided by the fact that two of my recovering addicts group on Monday skipped their one-to-ones to come to my session, feeling it would be more beneficial. I love my sessions at CRI (Crime Reduction Initiatives) - the adults in recovery are so insightful; I learn so much from them, and always appreciate their honesty, humour and integrity. I also laugh so much at some of their stories. And when they finish a session by saying:

 'I didn't want to come today, cos I thought it was going to be shit and not for me, but actually...it was alright, y'know'

 'This is the first time I've made eye contact with anyone in the group and I've been here two weeks'

 'I haven't laughed this much in ages; it's great just to be a kid again, or maybe for the first time, cos I never got to be a kid much when I was one'

 or

 'I'm going to play this game with my little boy on his next visit - I think he'd like it'

there is no feeling like it. What can I say, I'm a junkie for this shit. I need it. I love it. I want more. So I keep doing my workshops, and yes, sometimes people walk out or don't turn up, but when they do, my god they can astound me. 

Slava's Snow Show

After a mentally busy few days - and too many nights away from my own bed - despite my physical inability NOT to look forward to the theatre, taking a class on a trip this evening was not feeling so appealing. Partly because I'd fallen asleep on the train back to London from Birmingham and had a beautiful pattern of pressure marks on my face where I'd been leaning on my woolly hat. Not as bad as realising I had a ring of hot chocolate on my face for the whole hour I'd been chatting to the cute guy next to me on the plane back from Glasgow on Friday, but that's another story.

Yet, despite sleep deprivation, aching limbs and the end of a cold, this particular show blew me away. In fact, at one point, I thought it might literally blow half the audience across the auditorium. SLAVA'S SNOW SHOW - an international successful clowning masterpiece.

Slava Polunin - acclaimed as 'the best clown in the world' - from Ovlovsk, brought his character Asisayai to the Southbank's Winter Festival, complete with yellow boiler suit, red nose and fluffy red slippers.  His style of 'Expressive Idiotism' is one to which I think we should all aspire. After all, who doesn't need more comedy falls in their life?? Because, watching the show, I had some startling flashes of insight I think it's important I share with you:

1. Falling off chairs is FUNNY

2. Massive shoes are FUNNY

3. Folding yourself up like a concertina and looking like you're the Wicked Witch of the West post-H₂O: FUNNY.

And, fundamentally: we are all children. Even children - who sometimes forget it. And what better way to remind ourselves than to be in a room where paper snow flakes are falling from the sky and giant inflatable balls are zooming towards your head at an alarming rate amid shouts of 'Bash the purple one, BASH IT!'

However, although wholly playful and pushing physical comedy through a beautifully crafted lens of snow storms and magic lanterns, the dark side of The Clown was omnipresent. With the first half opening with the two clowns trying to hang themselves with either end of the same rope, morbidity and the loneliness of the outcast were the starting note. Indeed, a touch of research into Polunin's method shows that he takes his main inspiration from the 'poetic sadness of Leopnid Engibarov's clownery, the refined philosophising of Marcel Marceau's pantomime, and the humanity and comic poignancy of great Chaplin's films'. 

It was also bloody beautiful. And the chorus of clowns alongside were superb. Especially the baby clown - bring back the baby clown! With scenes that gave a nod to an eclectic mix of cultural and theatrical references - his take on Woman in Black and A Brief Encounter were exceptional - and a cast of men in funny hats and long shoes, who looked like a cross between scarecrows, Puddleglum the marsh-wiggle, and shocked spaniels, the whole show was an assault on the senses and diaphragm (the Afghan students I was accompanying were mortified by how loudly I was laughing). 

   

Slava's theatre is one where: 'It is a king of wedding cavalcade, where I try to marry everyone to everyone.' And what better way than through laughter and a GIANT snow ball fight?!!

p.s. One of my favourite moments of the show - aside from the repeated-falling-off-a-chair-sketch - was the ending where a blazing blizzard blew out into the audience, to a crescendo of O Fortuna. 

A little bit of googling led me to this. Which in the spirit of clowning, I thought I would share:

 

Puurrrfect

New Year's Eve, 2012. 

I haven't written a post in ages and to make up for it I'm letting you in on a secret regarding how cool I am: I'm writing one now; I'm not an a party; I'm not shit-faced. I'm writing a blog post. And (as my students would say) what? As a complete sentence, obvs. And what? You need to to do the eyebrows and the hand gesture to go with it, to really convey the sentiment. 

I'm having a wicked evening. And by writing this blog post now, I'm actually making myself feel more relaxed. Cos not writing one for such a long time has meant that I keep putting off writing one, because there's a list of about seven posts I've half written on the bus in my head that I want to write before I write the next one. But screw it. It's the end of the year, and one of my resolutions will definitely be to write more on here. So, this is the segue post. I bloody love the word segue.  

NYE is a time to reflect. Whether we want to or not. And despite being 25, I've reflected that it's OK that I'm spending the evening with my beautiful girlfriend, having an indoor picnic of tasty treats, and playing with the cats. Rather than lashing it large. We might even have a bath later and read some Caitlin Moran. And watch Jools. There's alcohol in the cupboard if we're feeling extravagant. And did I mention there are CATS. Jasper and Jessie, the newest addition to the family. They're rescue cats and a bit mental, but hey, that just means they fit in. Although none of our family have a penchant for hiding under beds, going and sitting in the bath at every opportunity (oh, except maybe Gem - being clean is one of her favourite things; sometimes I think she prefers long, hot baths to me. And I know she prefers baby animals), and licking plastic bags. I think the second parenthesis was really important in that last sentence; she's Miss Fox, not A fox.   

My mum bought us treats from M&S (feeling guilty, I think, that she's got a more active social life than us) and we're in a house where there's heating and everything. We are lucky. We are. I've got a cold, which I've given to Gem, and once it's turned midnight we might go to bed, but right now I'm happy. She's got a job in the new year; I've got ten. I need to sort out my work-sanity balance, but that's a job for tomorrow onwards.

So, I'll being saying HELLO TWENTY THIRTEEN (is that what we're calling it? Has the consensus been reached?) with Gem, Jessie, Jasper and Jools - which almost entirely alliterates!!! What could be better?