meetup
He said I'd come home and write about it, and here I am, writing about it. We held our first Mad Studies meetup group this evening, with a group of seven attending. As ever I observed, quiet mostly, yet thoroughly enjoying being with these really lovely people each bringing their own stories into the circle.
One person described being an enlightened soul with multiple past lives. Another person confessed to fear of their madness as the gateway to a failed life, encompassing relationship-breakdown and even homelessness. Yet another described periods of suicidal thinking with a beautiful self-compassion. The conversation roamed from forgiveness to psychiatric medication to reiki and qigong. What a weird and wonderful kaleidoscope of weird and wonderful minds, put into a shared space for a couple hours with an open agenda.
So again I wonder: is this activism? Yes absolutely. Yes to human connection, listening and dialogue, and being together in a way that welcomes authenticity.
And I wonder: is it enough? Update: the PhD proposal about journaling has been turned down, so I find myself back at square one where that aspiration is concerned. I may yet find a way to do it – but I'm not convinced, in all honesty. The rejection stings my pride a bit but ultimately leaves me unmoved. There are other currents within me, an undertow that pulls fiercely on my peace of mind. Qualifications are just another form of currency, and what I really need more than another flipping diploma is to have some faith in myself. What after all was my madness about?
All these voices this evening, the tentative, the strident, the easily-dismissed – they are all speaking to me and I need to listen carefully now. There is still so much to be learned.
(Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash)