You can dance if you want to (in the street)

You're sitting in your car on the way home from work, frustrated by traffic and stuck at a red light because the dickhead that just squeezed in front of you stopped for the orange light. And across the intersection there's some guy with a massive grin wearing headphones, flailing his arms about and shaking his hips.

The 'Kew Dancing Man'

And you just think, 'What .. the .. ffuuu...'

You would, right? I'm pretty sure I did the first time I saw 'Kew Dancing Man', Robin Madden doin' his thang. I'd hazard a guess most people's reaction to seeing him for the first time was bemusement, if not amusement. People don't do that; it's not normal!

It's a pretty brave move to dance at a busy intersection where many passers-by will wonder what the hell is wrong with you. But what the hell is wrong with us?!

Most people dance, yeah? If you don't, you should. It's good for your mind, body and soul. We dance in groups at music venues and celebrations, and some of us dance in the privacy of our lounge rooms (I assume other people do too), but once you dance alone and someone sees you, you stand to be mocked.

Imagine how onlookers, or even the police, would respond if someone started dancing inexplicably (who needs a reason?!) on the corner of Swanston and Flinders Streets.

WHY? I want answers goddammit!

Why do we feel unsettled - even threatened - by people who behave 'unusually' in public places (even if the same behaviour in a private space is perfectly normal) and feel the need to bring it down with mockery or worse?

Anyway, the second time you saw him, you generally, genuinely smiled - if not, go looking for your heart. He became a much-loved local celebrity even for blow-ins like me who worked up the road at the local Dan Murphy's for a couple of years. I never met him, but we loved his presence.

He was just a happy guy making people smile and enjoying himself. More of it please, society.

Sadly, he passed away late last month, but it was amazing to see the reaction and number of people talking about him on social media, as well as coverage in mainstream media. This is the kinda soul we ought to celebrate.

He probably brought smiles to the faces of many thousands of people. Just by dancing. That simple. A lot of 'successful' people will go to their grave with a fat bank account having achieved far less.


So let us not judge anyone who dances in the street or acts in a manner that is seemingly a little unusual to our own experience. Who the hell are we to do so?

Goddammit, there should be more dancing in the street. It is perfectly normal, it is good for the body, good for the mind, makes you and people around you smile ... I get strange looks just singing to myself walking down the street sometimes. What, these people don't sing? Meh, their loss (yeah, I wish I was that comfortable with unwarranted judgement!)

Why are people so quick to judge harmless breaches of the rigid, anti-social 'code of conduct in public places' that's become prevalent, particularly in the city? Imagine a tram - over 50 people squeezed into a confined space and nobody talks. Now that's bizarre social behaviour - a sociology study in waiting.

But I think the Kew Dancing Man proved that, if you're brave enough to break down these barriers, people love you for it. Social norms are made to be broken. May his legacy live on! Dance, dance, dance!

And remember:

'If life seems jolly rotten,
There's something you've forgotten,
And that's to laugh and smile and DANCE and sing!'

('Always Look On The Bright Side of Life', Monty Python)

Life begins at the acceptance of death

"As a day well-spent brings happy sleep, so a life well used brings happy death"
 - Leonardo Da Vinci

Ageing can and should be fun

My earliest memory of anxiety is being perhaps five years old with an insurmountable problem. Distressed, I told my mum that I didn't want to die, but neither did I want to live forever. Understandably, she didn't know what to say. Most kids would be comforted by the idea of eternal afterlife, but I was just as uneasy with the idea of eternity as ceasing to exist.

The idea of forever and ever and ever and ever (etc) messed with my mind, like when a camera focuses on a screen projecting it's image so the screen shows up on the screen perpetually and you try and visualise where it ends.

Death was probably central to many of the obsessive fears I went on to develop, whether they related to health, religion, meaninglessness, ageing and achievement or any number of other concerns.

Anxiety turns the burden of proof on its head - a tiny seed of doubt fed by compulsive reassurance-seeking will grow quickly into an all-consuming fear that feels like an all-but-certain truth. Only once the pain of excruciating reassurance finally outweighs the original anxiety of the doubt would I finally let go, which offered a strangely sweet sensation of release - 'all that wasted mental energy, if only I'd just stopped thinking about it,' I'd chastise myself.

It took more than fifteen years before I found a way to do that, but I had the basic idea right. Acceptance is the key to happiness. Letting go is the only way to move forward

When your growing up birthdays can't come around quick enough. And then you hit 18 (or 21 in America) and suddenly want to hit the brakes. But in the long run happiness seems to realign with age, increasing alongside one another. So why do we get so hung up about our twenties (I have five and a half months left)? Some of the happiest, most content people around are also the oldest. They've moved on so many times, they know worry doesn't stop anything.

I think about death every day. I don't enjoy the fact I'm going to die, and I'd rather the thoughts were less frequent visitors, but hey, I'm a natural obsessive and I now know it's better to let them come and go, and to be open about it than lock them up inside or try to outrun them.

So, yeah, I let myself think about death, and sometimes relish talking about it with certain friends - it helps me understand this crazy, unlikely existence. I wish it didn't occupy my mind as much as it does, but it doesn't often cause any distress.

Currently, I'm reading the fantastic official publication of the Melbourne Emerging Writer's Festival, The Emerging Writer, and just this morning got to Maria Papas' wonderful piece 'Forgiving the Dead: Writing as Release'. In it she discusses writing and talking as tools for healing and quotes Hannah Arendt:

'We humanise what is going on in the world and in ourselves only by speaking of it, and in the course of speaking of it, we learn to be human.'

I think this is true of dealing with fear of death, the most pervasive human fear. And as Yoda said in possibly the only memorable line to come out of The Phantom Menace: "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering."

Religious zealots, a lot of whom are surely driven in their faith by fear of death, prove this point nicely. Yet Atheists can be just a zealous and aggressive so I wonder whether an underlying fear drives their often religious-like activity. For the record, I'm agnostic and happy to admit I don't have a clue about how we all wound up here, and the question of 'why', frankly, hurts my brain.

The philosophy I am trying to instill into my psyche these days is all about the living in the moment. It's all you've ever got.

However, knowing that, one day, all will be gone can be a celebration of the wonderful, precious moment. I think half the reason I continue to pay to see Graveyard Train play live (six times in 18 months) is to sing joyously with a bunch of strangers about the fact we are all going to die. It's incredibly cathartic.

Because, well 'it's one life, it's this life, and it's beauuuuutiful'. Don't judge the present, don't dwell on the past, don't anticipate the future - live and love for now in a way that will ensure a happy sleep tonight.
So forget proclamations about life beginning at 30, 40 or whatever the new trendy age is (however old the first Gen Xs are probably); it begins when concern about your expiry date stops taking up valuable mental energy that should be spent living with passion and youthful enthusiasm.

Who knows whether Da Vinci was right in the end. All I know is he was right about how to achieve a happy sleep, and that the most peaceful moments in my week come during meditation at the end of my yoga classes, lying in Savasana, or 'Corpse Pose'. It's an amazing peacefulness, the kind of state I would like to think I'll feel when my time comes - in the knowledge I've lived my days well, and can peacefully release.

But I've spent too much time now thinking about all this. It's time to focus on something lighter for a little while!

When is the right time to open up about your depression? (and my social anxiety)

Humblebrag: People have commented on how 'brave' I've been opening up about my OCD and anxiety here and elsewhere, but generally I shirk that compliment. Not always, sometimes I quietly bask in it.

Talking about your own experience with depression or any personal struggle is a whole lot easier when it's in the past tense though. No shit, right?

At times I've used past tense when I should really have used present, but that's tough - that takes real courage. You feel more vulnerable and sensitive to a perception of weakness, to become a victim of stigma.

Still, it ain't easy at any time and I found letting my long-held secret out of the bag to be incredibly liberating. It put it in a context of the reality outside my head, I don't feel 'alone' anymore and don't get sucked into an inward downward spiral of self-judgement so much as a result. 

However, as much as I'd love everyone with any kind of mental illness to stand up and declare it tomorrow - showing the world just how prevalent it is and the different kinds (all) of people it affects -  it is important when baring your soul to do it carefully, with the right people, especially when you're vulnerable.

It's a paradox. People struggle to talk about it because of the stigma, and the stigma exists because of a lack of discussion and understanding.

To quote a Batman film: 'People fear what they don't understand'. Too many people still don't understand mental illnes and, in some cases, fear it. It's not their fault - they may not (be aware that they probably) have dealt with someone with mental illness, and general education is lacking despite good work by a number of organisations. Some people don't really want to hear about depression because it's, well, depressing. But it's so important because too many people with depression don't understand what is going on or what to do.

That was me for a long time. I didn't talk to a sinlge person about it for over ten years until I figured out it for myself (thank you internet!). For a long time only my doctors, parents and then-girlfriend knew. A few years later I told a handful of trusted friends. A few years after that I put it out there for anyone to find. I don't go telling everyone in the 'real world' - I save that for here and Twitter - but I don't hide from it and it's not that hard for people to find me here.

If we all spoke up, we could help them understand. But for individuals, 'going public' is not necessarily the best option. Hopefully everyone has a trusted person to talk to though.

General understanding is improving though, and I still dream of a day that we can all say I do/did suffer from a mental illness, I'm happy for you to know but it does not define me!
Or something like that.
It's no coincidence that this blog started as I finally started to break the shackles of depression, and I wrote more about it as I felt better about my progress. That's not an entirely bad thing - if I'd been writing in my deepest despair the posts would have been unbearably self-pitying and at least as self-indulgent.
But I was ready because I felt comfortable - safe. Also impassioned and bloody-minded - I was, and still am, fed up with stigma. I don't raise the topic much socially, but I genuinely don't care who knows. It's a nice place to be, I am lucky.

So, it's pertinent I suppose, to mention here the recent realisation that I have one more element of my anxiety to confront: social anxiety.
It's always been the quite pervasive, but I figured it would diminish with my general anxiety - and to a large degree it has over the last ten years. Friends who knew me in my teens say I've 'blossomed' #shucks. It also helped me with other fears in a perverse kind of way - I let go of them where I absolutely had to if I feared how I would be perceived socially.

But it does show itself in a number of ways that I need to address. For example, too often I:

• am utterly self-conscious;
• avoid making phone calls to people I don't know well, preferring email/text where possible; 
• actively avoid conflict and placate people at the expense of my own interests too much (yet am a natural-born antagonist!?); 
• am horrible with small talk, wasting energy frantically thinking about what I'm going to say rather than really listening; 
• use caveats and words/phrases like 'but', 'whatever you think/want/are doing', 'that's cool...', 'if that suits...', 'I don't mind', etc far too much;
• Rarely say 'no'; and
• am indecisive and over-polite - a tendency that runs through my family and frustrates the hell out of me.

Obviously - and most crucially - these behaviours haven't helped my book-worthy romantic life. I've had to rely on my humble charm and good looks.

But this shy thing doesn't suit me - i like people! If anything I talk too much among friends.

Anyway,  it's no biggie, I just wanted to put that out there for myself really because I've never done it before - you know, said 'I am dealing with this ... like, currently'.

I'm actually ridiculously excited about it, which is strange for dealing with anxiety but should help I suppose. It's like I have a renewed sense of purpose or found a new point of focus to keep improving myself. I'm feeling a child-like eagerness.

And no band speaks to my enthusiastic, eternal inner-child than Arcade Fire, so this is I kinda how I feel (if you speak music):

So there it is. I better not fail, huh.

Ps. I'm planning on attending the launch of The Emerging Writer at the Emerging Writers Festival on Friday and realise there may be a couple of tweeps there who read this. If so, try and find me and test me out on the whole talking to 'strangers' thing!


http://www.lifeline.org.au/

http://www.headspace.org.au/

http://www.beyondblue.org.au/index.aspx?

Song - 'Dog Eared' (piano version)

A song myself (guitar) and my collaborator and friend @therealisation (iPiano) put together.

The calm innocence of an Australian man's mind as the colourful organised chaos of Old Delhi swirls around him.

 

Prohibited 2012

Film review - Under African Skies

[Film review for RightNow.org.au, full article at their website]

Under African Skies tells the controversial story of Paul Simon’s African-influenced, critically acclaimed album Graceland, and reunites him with the South African musicians who contributed to the album 25 years on.

In the mid-1980s Simon got his hands on an album by South African band, The Boyoyo Boys. He was so taken with what he heard that he saw a potential new direction for his own music.

From the outset Simon portrays a certain amount of political naivety about the situation in South Africa that swings between disappointing and endearing throughout the film.

Although aware of the tensions in the country and encouraged to replicate the sound he wanted in a New York studio, he insisted on visiting the South Africa in 1986 to start work on new songs. Given the international cultural boycott, American singer and social activist Harry Belafonte suggested he seek the approval of the African National Congress before going. However, Simon refused the idea that he should be required to ask permission from any group to pursue his artistic venture.

Artists Against Apartheid founder Dali Tambo believes that Simon’s timing was “not helpful”. But others, like Graceland producer Koloi Lebona, saw an opportunity to promote South African music in the mainstream, so that it would no longer be seen as third world music.


Cont... Full article on RightNow website

The people who light up the dark, and why I adore them

My favourite people are the ones who aren't afraid of the dark. Life is fucked up, and so am I; thank god. We all are at least a little bit and that's what makes us beautiful creatures. It's the so-called 'normal' people who are boring (or in denial).

John Darnielle bared his soul on a stage in a corner bar in Richmond in front of a few hundred people, as he has on countless records, but seeing it live is something else. I realised just how many of his songs are about depression, alcoholism, death, abuse and the strange things people do to get by when their life is truly fucked up - all with an uplifting undertone of love. It was by no means a sombre mood; it was a celebration of making it through, happier and stronger. There's something special and instinctively perverse about a crowd cheerfully singing "I hope we all die". Because we will, and I don't know why so many people think it's 'depressing' or strange to talk about life's only inevitability.

Life begins at the acceptance of death.

Modern existence can so easily feel like a cave, artificially lit by distractions on TV and in shop windows. It's not ideal, but getting out into the sunshine often requires delving the depths of your own darkness. When you're ready to go though, music is an amazing companion.

Maybe we should consider ourselves lucky, those of us that have been forced to expose the darker corners of our mind to give the black dog nowhere to lurk. I admire those who simply do it out of curiosity, a yearning to experience life to the full without the constraint of fear or bitterness.

Maybe I'm wrong, but it seems to me that so many of the most creative, open, humble, honest, loving and happy minds have stared down demons in their life. I guess that's why I feel so disappointed every time I see Andrew Robb playing petty, superficial politics after his public battle with depression.

These are the people I want to populate my existance with. In a world increasingly full of people and shallow competition for our attention, I'm blessed to have people in my life that inspire me to live it. I'm grateful to the strangers I've connected with on Twitter who are open and honest without being self-absorbed about their own journeys through the darkness. And I'm happy every time I'm in a room full of like-minded people smiling, dancing and singing about how fucked up this life can be - cos it's even more fucked up if you can't face up to it.

Who cares about the people don't get understand and make their misjudgements - there are too many people in the world to give a fuck what they all think. It's awesome to share those unshackled, joyous moments of not giving a fuck about any of that shit with the like-minded; and to show anyone still struggling to look into the darkness how much fun it can be.

(I saw The Mountain Goats at The Corner Hotel in Melbourne on 10 May. It was awesome)

'1.4 Billion Reasons'

This article was written for human rights website RightNow

Could you live on $2 a day?

Given a single morning coffee costs around twice that much, it is almost unimaginable for most of us. Yet 1.3 billion people – that’s almost 60 times the population of Australia – currently live in extreme poverty, on less than AUD$2 a day.

On Tuesday 1 May, at the Monash University Law Chambers, Paul Mason delivered 1.4 Billion Reasons, presented by Global Poverty Project in conjunction with the Castan Centre for Human Rights Law. Although the World Bank recently lowered the total number of people living in extreme poverty from 1.4 billion to 1.3 billion, Mason insists the new data doesn’t lessen the need for engagement and action. Indeed, as people rise above the poverty line we should be even more inspired to see the possibility of a world without extreme poverty.

And while great progress has been made across Asia – helping to halve the rate of extreme poverty since 1981 – the number of people living below the line continues to grow in sub-Saharan Africa.

Mason is a young, but experienced and well-travelled, activist who exudes a fine balance of urgency, hope and empowerment. He traces his own interest in social justice back to his childhood in South Africa when, as a nine-year-old, he queued with his parents for hours while they waited to vote in the country’s first democratic election in 1994. The man elected President that day, Nelson Mandela, is an enduring inspiration for Mason, who summed up his view of this global challenge by quoting a speech Mandela made ahead of the 2005 G8 Summit in Gleneagles: “Like slavery and apartheid, poverty is not natural. It is man-made and it can be overcome and eradicated by the actions of human beings.”


Cont... Read the full article at RightNow