Canoes and Contentment

Greetings Friends-

I have experienced some truly magical times in my life. Inspiring memories that resonate within me. Memories that keep me focused on the positivity that I sense and the positivity I try to share with others.

Many years ago, I discovered the peaceful satisfaction of exploring the lakes of British Columbia, in a canoe. I recall the harmony I felt with nature. Surrounded by awesome beauty, I was immersed with an overwhelming sensation of tranquility. In my solitude, yet not alone, I was at peace with the environment.

My senses were acutely aware of all the sights, sounds and feelings. The vision of the gentle, pristine waters of the lake, the wondrous backdrop of the snow-capped mountains. The reassuring sound as the water lapped against the paddle. The cool, refreshing breeze flowing across my face.

Canoeing was such an adventure. Paddling for miles and miles until I could paddle no more. Discovering a remote island on a remote lake and setting up camp for the night. Words cannot do justice to how I felt. It was getting dark, time to reflect on how great the day had been.

It was late May, yet earlier that day, nature had decided to create a most unseasonal snow storm. Late at night, sitting outside my tent, mesmerised by the glowing embers of the camp fire. I realised that, to me, life doesn't get any better than this.

The sky had cleared and a full moon shone on the lake. The light from the moon sparkled on the majestic snow-encrusted evergreens. That beautiful vista is captured so vividly in my mind.

Filled with such inner-peace, I retreated to the cosy confines of my tent. I lay there, snuggled up inside my sleeping bag. I listened to the sounds of the nocturnal wildlife. The haunting call of the loon, the distant (thank goodness) howl of the wolves. I drifted off to sleep. Never have I slept so well.

The next morning I portaged my canoe across the island. Portaging is carrying your canoe overland. Or as I look at it, walking around with a canoe on your head. Not the most flattering of headgear, but hey, I never had much fashion sense.

Lately I have been wanting to rekindle my love of canoes. Pollution-free, environmentally-friendly canoes. The preferred mode of transport of the 'First Nations' people of North America. I am only a short walk from Rudyard Lake, so I haven't got much of an excuse. I'm sure with all the terrible weather we've had lately; the rental of a canoe wil be no problem.

Canoes and contentment. I stay focused on healthy behaviour. How positive is that?

I thank you for your time.

A Near-Life Experience

There I was, yet again, in another drunken stupor. Trying desperately to numb out a series of events that almost destroyed me. I tried to suppress the sheer panic I felt due to the relentless onslaught of my mental illness. Abandoned by people I loved, alcohol became a substitute for real love.
Oh the evil irony. Here I was, a desperate man in a desperate world, using and abusing alcohol. Yet, instead of relieving my distress, the drink nearly extinquished the fading remnants of my dignity. In my all-consuming state of loneliness and despair, I thought that alcohol would be my best friend. It had become my worst enemy.
The phone rang. It was my doctor and he sounded most concerned. My ex-wife had, in one last gesture of concern, voiced to him her fears about my condition. My doctor arranged to come over and check me out. Upon his arrival, it was obvious to him that I was very ill.
During the previous three weeks I had nothing to eat. Everyday for those three weeks, I drank three, two litre bottles of cider. My only 'nutrition' came from the cider. My life had lost its purpose. I decided that it was best that I should die. For here I was, a man trapped in a small English town. No friends and the only real Family I had here had started a new life.
The ambulance arrived and I was stretchered out. Severely bloated and severely jaundiced I was rushed to North Staffordshire Hospital. It was the 18th of June 1998. This would be my fourth alcohol-related trip to hospital. What was happening to me? I have never been so scared.
In that first week in hospital I nearly died. I faded in and out of consciousness. Never had I experienced such a state of surrealism. It was almost like I had become a part of everything around me. I felt like I was everywhere and nowhere. My whole being was on the verge of major changes.
At the end of the first week my ex-wife and my nine year old son Tristan came to visit me. They would be my only visitors. For they were going off to Vancouver with their new Family unit. It was time for my former spouse to introduce her new man and their son to her Family in Canada. The emotional pain I felt upon them going was raw and deep.
At the end of the first week I received one ray of hope that would sustain me for the duration of my hospital stay. My Mother, so far away in Vancouver, had been informed of my situation. She managed to get through to the ward's reception. I was placed in a wheelchair and I painfully made my way to reception. Barely able to speak, I received comfort and reassurance from my Mother. I discovered within me a new resolve. I was going to challenge my issues, for I realised, maybe just maybe, my life could have a meaning.
So for the next five weeks I lay in bed, knowing that I would have no visitors. All around me patients were surrounded by visitors. I heard the laughter, I witnessed the tears. Yet people did not seem to notice me. In a ward so full of humanity, I was so alone, so isolated. The tears streamed down my face. My tears went unnoticed.
Yet through all my isolation and loneliness I grasped a new positivity. I had time to think, time to evaluate my life. I began to realise that I am a well-meaning, sincere human being. I had been suffocated by a negative environment. It was time for me to understand that I could make my life better. So during those five weeks in hospital I searched for inspiration.
Inspiration came in the form of my dearest friend Rob. Rob had died two months earlier in Vancouver, he was only 44. I had been distraught over the fact I could not attend his funeral. I took some comfort in the knowledge that my words of respect for him were read in his eulogy.
Lying in my bed, I looked out the window and stared at the trees. Every leaf on every tree became the spirit of Rob. It was a awesome experience, for in my mind I heard Rob say: "Gary, it's not time for you yet. Buddy, you're gonna' make it."
Slowly, at times painfully, my life has improved. When I left hospital, I left as a new man. No longer shackled by the evil irony of my alcohol abuse. Understanding that my mental distress was only a small portion of who I am. I left with a great sense of relief. Now I would try to live my life with positive anticipation instead of negative speculation.
Yes, I had a near-death experience. Yet at the same time I had a 'near-life' experience. For I had not been near-life for all too long. Life was passing me by. I tired of being a spectator. Although, still baring the wounds of a sad and traumatic past. I shall continue, undaunted, to embrace a more positive life.
I have not had a drink since the 18th of June 1998. I neither want nor intend to have another drink. I am liberated. That is so powerful.

Mindbloggling--Thank You!

Warm greetings-
Over the weekend I had been thinking about submitting a tribute to 'mindbloggling' and how vital it is to me. Much to my delight, Purkul, who I respect greatly, beat me to the thought of putting up a tribute. Nice one Purkul. Your blog emphasises the importance this entire community has on us in our pursuit of positivity.
I am so grateful to be a part of the mindbloggling ethos. The interaction and the positive affirmations I have witnessed on our site make me more determined to challenge the stigma surrounding mental health concerns.
Mindbloggling has helped ease my fear of computers and the technology involved. I am a 'technophobe.' I must admit that I am still at the stage where I click on to an icon and expect the worse to happen. Click on an icon and my computer goes up in a puff of smoke! Well, thanks to the mindblogggling team, my fear of computers is slowly diminishing.
So a big thank you to all of you. To Emma and Nat, thanks for all your encouragement and support. The job that you do for mindbloggling demonstrates genuine kindness. Your sincerity has inspired me to continue to challenge my own negative environment. I shall not be overwhelmed.
Let's ensure that this community of empathy, transparency and positive possibilities grows stronger. Empowerment is powerful. So to everyone involved in Mindbloggling--Thank You!
Warm regards adanac67.

Social Networking

Greetings People-
Over the last few weeks my social networking has increased significantly. This has been a tremendous challenge. The increase in my social networking has also brought me into situations that triggered a lot of deep-rooted emotional pain. Pain that I had suppressed for all too long. I hope that confronting this emotional turmoil will give me the opportunity to move on with my life.
Sadly, I have reached one conclusion. That the 'closure' I seek from one emotional tragedy will never come to fruition. My questions will go unanswered. Why the lady that I loved so much will not answer the one question I so desperately seek an answer too: "Why did it have to end up this way?" I must try to understand that perhaps the trauma she has endured, from situations not caused by me, have made it difficult for her to close out a sad chapter in both our lives.
I know I should maintain my social networking. Yet I am very frightened. I have gone from being a virtual recluse, to someone who, once again, braves the outside world. This is not easy. For behind the bravado, deep within, is a scared and lonely child. I know to people who have met me, that I might appear to be an outgoing and enthusiastic person. This is indeed a part of me and it is genuine. However, the 'inner-critic' continues to sabotage my positive outlook. The self-doubts begin to creep in. "Do not get too involved with society" says my inner-critic. " You will be caught out and exposed as an incompetent fool."
I battle against these thoughts. I do not want to 'fade away' yet again. I have met some very caring, very sincere people. I must draw strength from them.
So I will continue in my own personal struggle to be happy. I look at the positives that I have accomplished recently. I drove from Leek to Hanley, in appalling conditions, to assistant co-ordinate a 'Changes' meeting. I could have made excuses not to go. I challenged my fears, I was determined to be there. I could have found reasons to justify not being involved with MAGMH at Sanity Fair. All the way down on the bus, I felt panicky. Yet, I confronted that sensation. I put my nagging self-doubts to the test. I know, from the series of events that I experienced at Sanity Fair, some humorous. some sad and thought-provoking, that I emerged stronger and more determined. I thank all the good people who helped make that happen.
I hope from this blog that it helps others realise that we can challenge whatever is hurting us. If I have struck a particular chord with you that aids in your pursuit of contentment. That is indeed an awesome energy. We have the right to be happy. We have the right to be heard. We can inspire and be inspired. Empathy is powerful, through this empathy, we shall turn negatives into positives.
I thank you for your time. Kind regards adanac67.

Springwatch Nightshift

Reality television has gone that one step further. Never mind all those ridiculous reality shows with their equally ridiculous contestants. Ladies, gentleman, boys and girls. B.B.C. 2 brings you reality television from some genuine stars, or should that be 'starlings.' Those nocturnal creatures that we see on screen, have more skill in their little talon than the publicity-seeking humans that crave unwarranted attention.

Indeed, the various wildlife on 'Springwatch Nightshift', give a whole new meaning to 'chick flick.' Just look at 'em. A regular 'who's who' of celebrity owls. Plus other 'boyds' (that's my best New York accent) such as blue tits, great tits (hmmm..leave it klahanie!), swallows, robins, wrens, thrushes and the dreaded buzzard.

Honourable mention must go to that shy, retiring creature, the badger. Pity the poor badger who has to keep apologising for their relatives the 'wannabee' weasels. Now, where oh where is the 'Famous Grouse?'

That's it..now I'm going to make like a bird and 'Flock' off!

Space Cars

When I was a lad growing up in the 1960's; I was really excited about what the world of the future would be like. Based on televison shows and what I read...the 21st century was going to be awesome. So fully believing what had been visualised, way back in the 1960's...this is what I had anticipated.

I had expected to travel to work in my 'space car.' So where the heck are these space cars and other wonderful inventions predicted for the 21st century? What are we waiting for? I want my space car!

In 1940, Henry Ford assured the world that we would soon be manoeuvring about in machines that were a combination of aeroplane and automobile. So, here we are, 67 years later..and we're still waiting!

However to this lad of the 'Sixties', the biggest 'false hope' culprits were the makers of 'The Jetsons.' Okay, we had other contributors to these fabulous future predictions. Shows such as 'Thunderbirds' and 'Captain Scarlet.' And so far as..'Space 1999'...yeah right!

Yet, to me, 'The Jetsons,' were, by far, the biggest contributor to my expectations of the future. Zipping about in their bloody space cars. Living in some futuristic city, which must have had stunning views. Having some robot named 'Rosie' cater to the families' needs. I wonder what 'Astro', a real dog, (in the cartoon sense of real) thought about all the technology? Indeed, I wonder what he thought about electronic canine competition?

So where is my robot? Why are we still waiting to have our 'time-share flats' on the Moon? Why has nobody visited Mars yet? I read in a book from the late 1960's, that we would have a 'Man on Mars,' by the year 1977! So much for all of that then.

So I guess we'll have to wait for the 'predicted' visit by beings from another planet, to get the future back on track. If one of these 'little green dudes' comes up to me and says:"Take me to your leader." I will say: "Never mind that, little green dude, can you sort me out with a space car?"

Home For A Holiday

Warm greetings to you-
I would like to share with you some childhood memories. These memories emphasise the importance of my reunions with my family in Canada. My family in Canada are a vital link to my mental health wellbeing.
When I was eight years old, my Mother went to Vancouver to start a new life. In England, she had met a kind and decent Canadian gentleman. In Vancouver, a place so far away, my Mother prepared herself to start a new journey. She craved a fresh start and now she had that chance.
That left me in England. A little boy, very alone and very scared. For now it was just my Father and me. Oh, how I missed my Mother. I was happy for her but I was hysterical with grief. When would my Mum return? So I waited and I waited. I knew she must return.
During this time, my Father, who was intolerable, became even worse. It saddens me to say that I have no pleasant memories of my Dad. From a very early age, I realised that my Father, took great pleasure in publicly humiliating me. He never praised me, all he did was mock me. My Dad seized every opportunity to point out how stupid I was. He instilled in me an all-consuming sense of worthlessness. I believed him when he told me I was stupid. If my Dad thought I was an idiot, then in the mind of a scared little boy, it was true.
Eight months passed by. To a little boy, it might just well have been eight years. My mother was back from Vancouver. How I rejoiced. My Mother was home from that strange and distant land. What were her plans? Was she back to stay or was this the closing of a chapter in her life?
I recall what happened next with remarkable clarity. I was called into the living room of our flat in Blackheath. My Mother and my Father sat there looking very tense. This now nine year old child was about to make the biggest, life-altering decision of his life. A decision that has had repercussions and ramifications ever since.
I was given a choice. Did I want to stay in England with my Dad ? Or, did I want to move to Vancouver and live with my Mum and that thoroughly decent Canadian gentleman? Being a nine year old, I was thinking...'big cars..real mountains...an exciting adventure.' There was no doubt in my mind what I should do. 'Canada..here I come!'
So my new life began. This little boy with the funny English accent moved to Canada. I adapted well. I blended into the Canadian way of life with relative ease. Heck, I had a Canadian accent by the time I was ten. My life seemed fairly positive.
They were exciting times but I always wondered about my Dad. How was he coping? He knew where I lived, yet he never communicated. The years rolled by and thoughts of my Dad became a distant memory. He had been a terrible Father to me. Perhaps it was just as well that I blanked him from my mind.
Curiosity did get the better of me. Fourteen years later, in 1976, I returned to England. Even though my Dad had made no attempt to contact me; I went to find him. I managed to contact his Mother. In her flat in London, she phoned my Dad. She handed me the phone. Thirty one years later, the words he spoke still haunt me. "What do you want?" he said, "as far as I'm concerned you're a ghost!"
Several heart-wrenching situations occured after that phone call. Indeed, many of the sad complications in my life have a direct link to what happened when I was that scared, lonely little boy. Yet, even though I have been disowned by my Dad. Even though my son has never known him as a Grandfather; I have much to be grateful for.
For in Canada, I have a family that provides me with love and support. They know how tough it has been for me, trying to live the British 'dream', I so desired. That is why, even though I am desperately lonely, even though I feel so isolated. I take great comfort that I shall soon be seeing my family.
So to my Mother, whose is a kind and generous soul. To my Stepfather, who has been more of a Dad to me than my own. To my two Brothers, who I don't know well enough. Thanks for all your encouragement and reassurance.
Thank you my friends, I leave you with the hope of a brighter, more positive future for us all. I am going Home for a holiday.