Pondering Sane New World by Ruby Wax

•June 12, 2014 • 4 Comments

I saw a review of Sane New World a while ago and thought it looked worth a read.  I have finally got round to it!

This book is set out in five sections:  What’s Wrong With Us? For the Normal-Mad; What’s Wrong With Us? For the Mad-Mad; What’s in Your Brain/What’s on Your Mind?; Mindfulness – Taming Your Mind; and Alternative Suggestions for Peace of Mind.

The book is entirely evangelical in its approach.  Ruby has clearly found something that works for her and wants the rest of us to know about it. This book is very honest.  If you’d been wondering where Ruby Wax was and what she has been doing, the answer is here.  With wit, humour and searing honesty she explains how she came to be where she is now, and how what she is writing about is not just theory, but what she has found to work for her.

Ruby’s says that she doesn’t think people of faith will agree – I disagree.  Obviously my starting place is different to hers, but I see nothing at odds with faith, and some elements of mindfulness are not at all dissimilar to prayer.  And I believe some of the research has come to similar conclusions.

Ruby backs up everything she says with plenty of research results, though I did feel slightly bombarded and wondered if there was any negative research that we aren’t being told.

I’m not sure about the usefulness of practicing mindfulness, I guess only time and experience would tell in that.  What I particularly want to pick up on is some of her comments in the first section, most of which made me shout ‘yes’, ‘exactly’ etc – my poor husband had most of it read out to him.  It is pertinent and insightful to where we are we are today in our society, and offers much sense.

Ruby is battling clinical depression, but we are all in our way battling our inner selves and how we respond to life – well I am anyway!  She is looking to regulate her mind, again, perhaps we all are – or should be.

Ruby begins by looking at where we are and what we’re doing.  She speaks of the “insatiable drive for more” – money, fame, more tweets – you name it, we want it (p7).  How right she is.  There is pressure in the world, many of us don’t know who we are, so we try to seek it in ‘getting’, as if that justifies our existence because nothing else does.

She speaks of us being unable to understand our emotional landscapes;

our hearts bleed because we hear of a beached whale while the next minute we’re baying for the blood of someone who stole the last shopping trolley (p8)

Seriously, what is that all about?  I certainly recognise it in myself!  It certainly seems worth some pondering.

Ruby acknowledges our penchant for staying busy, suggesting that we use it to distract ourselves from the bigger, deeper questions – no time to rest, no time to think – and that is how we like it.  Alongside that she suggests an undercurrent of uselessness.  She has some interesting things to say on social media (particularly Twitter) and how we use it.  I have long been interested in the internet and how we use it well, so I was fascinated by what she had to say.

That’s why we have Twitter so we can check how many followers we’ve got.  We can count them; 100, 1000 people you’ve never met, telling you what they had for lunch, now knowing you exist.  That’s how we see if we matter.  We’re like little birds, newly hatched from out eggs… looking for a little attention, a little love, maybe even a worm – anything will do, as long as they notice we’re here (p16)

We’ve all seen that kind of behaviour on social media, the ‘look at me’ syndrome.  Seeking strokes, however we can get them.  Oversharing, making ourselves the Twitter Police, giving a running commentary of our lives – all perhaps symptoms of needing attention and not knowing where or how to get it.  This ties in with the section on the need to be special.

Another theme she looks at is that of negative thinking, no longer having to worry so much about our survival, with minds working overtime.

Those of us who aren’t on the brink of starvation or elimination or living in squalor are condemned to a life of worrying about trivia (p21)

We have our basic needs, but it’s like we’re hard-wired to worry, to be alert, to be providing and so our minds go on and do it. We all live in our own world.  We have our point of view, and do what we can to back it up.  We don’t like uncertainty, so work hard at making our vision of the world reality:

We never see the world as it really is but only how we see it.  And because we’re trapped in our own interpretation, we are prepared to go to war with other people caught in their view of reality – and never the twain shall meet.  All this is the sound of people embedded in their own lives, believing their reality is the only reality, thinking the things they think matter (p28).

And how social media is an excellent vehicle for living that out!  Or we could perhaps use it as a tool to listen, learn and grow…

That’s all I’ll say for now.  That’s probably a lot of quotes, but it really made me think.  In my ongoing love/hate struggles with social media it took my thinking a bit further.  I noticed whilst without wi-fi on holiday how much less stressed my life is without it.  I have got to think how much of that is me.  I have got right back into boring everyone with the minutiae of my life.  To show off?  To look for sympathy?  To try to be a part of?  Because my life has nothing else in it, I need something to do, somewhere to say, and in the process have things to worry about and get upset about that really don’t matter in my life.

Anyway, fascinating book – read it and see what you think.  I have just picked up here on the Twitter bits, something else might grab you.

Caring for The Battered and Broken

•May 27, 2014 • 4 Comments

This is part three.  Having looked at health, or lack of it, and healing; how can someone on the outside help?

Pastorally we have to be prepared to be alongside people as they go into their own desert.  People need to be able to pour out to someone the fears that they have buried deep, or that are bubbling near the surface.  Just sharing those feelings with someone can make them less frightening, as they are acknowledged.  People may be reluctant to express such deep personal feelings that pain and suffering bring.  One of the privileges in life is being the one someone feels they can ‘let go’ to.  Someone ‘putting on a brave face’, may just have no opportunity, or tools, to face or express their fears.  They may need some company, some care, some holding.

Norman Autton in his book, Pain – An Exploration, makes the  comment that children should always be given permission to feel pain.  Adults too, particularly sometimes christians, need to know that there is no need to be brave or ‘cope’.   Feeling the pain is the only way it can be let out for healing.

Denis Duncan in Health and Healing: A Ministry to Wholeness reminds us that christian pastoral care, including to ourselves, is the acceptance of people where they are, in order to take them to where God wants them to be ‘warts and all’.  This is very positive, except that we can never take them.  What we can do is accompany them as they make the journey there themselves.

What anyone offering care needs is sensitivity.  Such comments as, ‘Every cloud has a silver lining’ are not particularly helpful when it doesn’t feel it.  It may ultimately become true, but takes reconciling to the situation first. There will undoubtedly be some positives to come from the suffering, but that does not remove the pain of the struggle.  It can be too easy to produce platitudes that nothing can separate us from the love of God, or that there is glory waiting beyond the tears.  I firmly believe that

all things work together for good for those who love God  (Rom 8:28),

but at times of struggle it was the last thing I wanted to hear.  Not because I no longer believed it, but at that time I could not assimilate it into my experience.  To glibly quote scripture references can show total lack of empathy and can appear to belittle the problem.

If we can, however use the bible sensitively and positively, there are many verses that do offer hope and comfort.  For example, Isaiah 43:1-2, reminds us that God is with us in situations that threaten to consume and overwhelm us; Psalm 23 speaks of the Psalmist’s assurance that God is with him in the valleys; and for me Habakkuk 3:17-20 encapsulates the acceptance and ability to live with having no answers, but finding something in that, and still being able to cling on because of his trust in God, when everything else has disappeared.

We should not be afraid to say that we have no answers, there is more honesty in that than trying to grope for quick-fix solutions.  And honesty is the one thing that is appreciated.  Sometimes nothing more is needed than a being with.

And that is the point I come to.  If it sounds positive, it has come from a place of great pain. Only the answer has survived on paper – but the pain was deep and life-transforming.  Ask those who were around me then how many times I preached on being in the desert – because that is where I was and all I could do.  I’m not trying to put just a positive spin on it, but to try to share some of what I learned, and in sharing it all again, it has helped me with where I find myself again.  Healing and wholeness are ongoing.  Living with ongoing illness regularly throws up new discoveries and realities to be assimilated. As does life for each one of us.

I hope sharing this has helped someone.  If you’ve got any comments, please share them below for everyone to share in.

I’ll leave you with my conclusion, that sixteen years on and a few crises later, still, I think, holds true:

So for me, both personally, and as a basis for pastoral care, there has to be the offer of healing and wholeness, whatever the state of our mind and body.  It may not be healing as we would like it or recognise it, but that does not mean it is not.

I believe firmly, passionately and with experience that we can lay our pain with the one who took our pain upon himself, and receive Life in its true fullness.  If we do not believe that what else have we to offer to a hurting world?

And so I return to my very practical definition of healing:

accepting all that we are, and all that we will never be, incorporating that into ‘me’ – and being able to live with it.

What is Healing?

•May 26, 2014 • 2 Comments

This is part 2 of thinking around health and healing.  It follows on from What is Health?

It would be fair to say, that when someone says ‘healing’ with think of restoration to how things were, maybe even ‘back to normal’ and everything being ok.  That is not always what happens, or apparently not, so can there still be healing?  I would say there can be – a deeply profound type of healing…

To begin to see the possibility that there can be wholeness despite ill health needs us all to grasp that personhood is about more than just our physical shape or functioning.  We are our whole self, whatever that package brings with it.  It is that entirety that we need to be comfortable with to find wholeness whatever our limitations.  Frank Wright , in his book, The Pastoral Nature of Healing speaks of

healing to be the essential ‘I’.

For each of us not to aim for some supposed ideal, but to realise the distinctive individuality that God gives to each of us (As stated in The Church and the Ministry of Healing A Methodist Statement adopted in 1977).

Simon Bailey, wrote a brilliant book called The Well Within, exploring his experience of living with HIV.  The subtitle, Parables for Living and Dying say it all – read it if ever you come across a copy.  In that book he speaks of acknowledging the sense of calling specific to me, to which I must be honest and loyal.   To become the very most that I can be should be the only concern for each of us, whatever that “I” turns out to be.  In the words of John F. X. Harriott,

everyone can create a masterpiece – themselves

Healing does not bring out our likeness to others, but it will bring out our likeness to ourself.

We will never achieve ultimate healing in this life, but perhaps wholeness is possible. If we can find a point at which we can accept and live with what continuing illness is going to mean for us, then we can begin to move towards the potential in that.  This will not be a once and for all acceptance, but having internalised it, taking it with us into the rest of life.  Denial and rationalisation are self-protective defence mechanisms for preserving emotional well-being, therefore should not be dismantled until there is something else, i.e. acceptance, available to go in their place.  The ultimate will be when we have honestly faced what is within us, we have nothing to fear – in ourselves, or the world.  If we know what is there, it is no longer a threat.  The healthiest way of being ill is to come to terms with the truth.

Perhaps for me the definition of healing in this way has to be,

knowing what is there, but not letting it be a crippling factor in experiences, relationships, and situations that I encounter.  Knowing there will be no getting rid of the fact, but incorporating that into what I am.  Whether I like it or not, it is part of me.  If I can live with it, rather than against it, and it becomes part of the offering that is me.  Acceptance brings being able to face and handle my experience, to speak of it and touch it – to myself, others and God.

Knowing our own wounds, we are able to identify with  the world’s pain and stand alongside those who suffer without focusing so hard on how it affects us.  The wound will still be there, and scar tissue is more sensitive than other skin, but knowledge and acceptance of that show that we have incorporated the truth into our very being.  That is no longer a controlling factor, but part of what makes us what we are.  The fact that it is there makes us no better or worse that a supposed “healthy” person.

Simon Bailey writes of living with the knowledge that he was HIV positive as a “brick wall” for the first years, then coming to the point of realising he had to talk to himself – to “step into the wilderness”.  The brick wall is about refusing to accept the affliction, denying it’s presence and repercussions – an inevitable part of the process of assimilating the information.  Moving into the wilderness of despair can seem like a backward step, but it is the beginning of acceptance, as we do at last allow ourselves to feel something about what is happening to us. Going into the desert forces us to probe the basic foundations of our lives, to face what we are and to reflect on the deep questions.  (Simon Bailey would define those as: Who are you really?;  What do you really want?; Where really are you going?; What really are you afraid of? ) As we discover what is there we can grow as we incorporate the feelings and effects of our illness into them.  In accepting pain and suffering we are not taking on a resigned passivity, but finding the courage to face the facts.  The pain can then be spoken aloud, which begins to give it meaning.

In terms of healing beginning where brokenness remains, recovery begins as we are able to slowly turn outwards to face the world again.  To find a level of ease so that ‘I’ am not my soul consideration, but finding a level of comfort with what is, acknowledging my identity as this person who cannot do something.  When we can face the truth it no longer lurks in the background, with the potentiality to control or destroy.  It is taken on board, if not welcome, at least in full knowledge that it is there, and that being OK.  For healing to begin, pain has to be faced.  If it is ignored, it will trip us up at some time.  If we try to keep pain buried, it can fester and cause all kinds of other problems.

Frank Wright states that

as we draw to God, we are drawn together as a person made whole.

This is true, but only when we let him in to those broken, hurting parts.  God can do nothing, or at least what he does has no effect, until the one who is hurting allows him. God does not force his way into lives.

Equally, yes Christ shares in the pain with us, but will not always magic it away. The road to acceptance may not be easy.  There may be much kicking and screaming along the way, and the place of kicking and screaming may be returned to. Yet ultimately suffering will be a forward movement.  As Wright says

Healing liberates us to set out again on the adventure of life – and enables us to be available for the healing of others.

We will know what we really stand on – tested in the fire.  We will be more grounded people, less glib, more aware of our fragility.   Some awareness of the wound must continue, but not it’s hold over us.

So healing is about, not necessarily getting rid of, but learning to live with all that we are – and are not.

I mentioned God not forcing himself into our lives, but being ready and waiting.  This is perhaps our model for care of those who are hurting.  We need to be alongside them, but cannot force our way in to a place where they are not, or cannot yet let us in to.  We cannot try to push people to move faster than they want or are able.

And this I will look at in the third part tomorrow.