Chapter Four
Mental Health
Life is better, when we think it is.
Mental Health Video Jist of it
Humor
Humor is a funny thing; it makes me want to laugh,
It gets me though in comfort man, and that’s only the half.
A laugh in times of trouble, turns a gray sky, partly bright,
And turns a really boring day, into one that’s quite all right.
The physical sensations, stomach jerking in and out,
Making noises near as loud, as when I try to shout.
It gets my mind to thinking, deep inside I hold things dear,
When thoughts are put just right to me, I smile ear to ear.
The way I view the world, determines what I think to laugh at,
The words are fast and edgy, not some blasé bla bla chit chat.
It could be bout your Momma, or a stinky smelly fart,
To make your love or bain a joke, is really quite an art.
Our Lord is not immune; he has a sense of humor too,
He made us like himself; it’s always funnier when true.
A joke can multiply a thought, into a silly roar,
And lift a spirit, fill a void, make endorphin levels soar.
A joke about the Pope, honors the man with standards high,
The one where he’s the chauffeur, puts a twinkle in my eye.
I like to laugh when possible, it makes me just relax,
The way a word gets juxtaposed, or grossly twisted facts.
It really doesn’t take too much, if I am in the mood,
Too turn a smile, into a laugh, be sharp, be cute, be rude.
A cheapskate like Jack Benny, was his trademark all the time,
I’d like to make a joke, if I could it make it kind of rhyme,
Please tell me dearest grand papa, can you sound like a frog,
Why should I ribit little one, why not bark like a dog?
Because of something momma said, I hope it is no joke,
She says that we will all be rich, the minute that you croak.
Dark humor it is curious, what’s funny bout distress,
How can we laugh when someone else, is facing quite a mess?
It doesn’t make much sense, but it is funny, most agree,
It’s even funny when we’re it, the fool for all to see.
Blue humor makes a special laugh, from somewhere deep inside,
It shows what we have on our minds, that some would like to hide.
The lust, that’s human nature, seems real funny by taboo,
It’s sacred, then it’s human, sacred human, me and you.
Potty humors basic, it’s the oldest form there is,
Some caveman thought it funny, for to write his mark in whiz.
We people on this planet, in a really fancy Zoo.
Need to have some fun, and feel the joy go though and through.
It’s good to have a laugh, and look at life through rosy eyes,
The lighter side, the sunny side, is found if someone tries.
There’s always something funny, can be taken to a fault,
But I won’t let that happen, I am so much an adult.
Life is something precious, like a splendid work of art,
And I am just a messenger, who shows the city heart.
By Bruce T. Duncanson
Inner Peace at War
Inner Peace can be elusive, when you want to change the world
Like keeping it together, when your dreams are all unfurled.
Approaching gross injustice, with an air of grace and tact
Hoping hates not real, but knowing hate is still a fact.
Answering the call, to make the world a better place
Jumping in the middle, of a rat infested race.
Helping out the little guy, like that kid is your own
Working all you can, just short of working to the bone.
Making a big difference, doing all the things you can
Keeping in your mind, that you are one woman or man.
Seeing the big picture, long range sight is very wise
Studying the history, evil tends to have disguise.
Who started it and when, and what was done back after that
Retaliation brakes, cannot be just pulled from a hat.
Displaying inner peace, may be the only way to share
Offering a refuge, is a simple way to care.
Sharing peace with strangers, with a nod or with a glimpse
Today all we are saying is to, “give this peace a chance.”
In common we have children, and we all have got a dad
Lets think of what’s in common, long before we all get mad.
A refuge for our own peace, makes us strong enough for hell
It’s hard to offer tea, when we don’t even have a well.
A inexpensive refuge, an example we can share
Then we can wake up rested, make up our bed, go out and care.
A fellowship of warriors, bent on peace at war’s own pace
To get our spirits strong, so we can keep up with the race.
The race, I me me my, has got so many people trapped
Work all day and worry, till their strength is nearly tapped.
Getting all that they can, and go to bed wanting some more
The culture says it’s right, but me myself it’s just a bore.
The gadgets and the gizmos, sold to make our life so great
Come at the price of time; stop charging before it’s too late.
The simple life is easy, if you really stop to look
Stay home and cook a dinner, take a walk, or read a book.
Do what the Lord is telling you; don’t run off with the herd
Productively impassioned, singing peace throughout your word.
“My peace is what I give you, take my peace here as my gift”
Jesus gave us peace, let’s give his peace a little lift.
Creatively conspire, to make this the Promised Land
Love your God and neighbor; do as Jesus would command.
By Bruce T. Duncanson
The Grief Process Theory
The grief process was clearly identified in 1969 by Elizabeth Kubler Ross for her
work with terminally ill people. Basically, grief is processed and upset feelings
resolved when a person accepts a loss. This acceptance is expressed as tears for
great losses or thinking some form of acceptance for the loss of something small.
The acceptance is important because without it, no replacement will be sought and
“reality” will not exist for that piece/peace of the mind. Depending on the
importance of the loss, unresolved grief can cause stress, depression, anger and
even psychosis.
Grief is thought to be composed of five phases. These phases are gone through
for varying lengths of time, in no particular order and all phases aren’t necessarily
gone through. Some phases are revisited and if left untreated a person can get
stuck in a phase.
Anger is when a person gets angry at a loss. This can sometimes be helpful, like
when a possession is taken and the owner fights to get it back. With a loss of the
irreversible kind, anger serves no purpose but to keep the person from feeling the
pain through the final phase of acceptance.
Denial is when a person pretends the loss never occurred. This can be helpful
for small bits of time to think through a situation unaffected by a recent tragedy. If
the denial is carried on too long the truth is lost and a person can feel out of touch
with their feelings of pain healed in the phase of acceptance.
Bargaining is when a person makes deals to get the loss undone. This can be
helpful when restoration is possible so a loss is averted. When a loss is
irreversible bargaining becomes meaningless circles of thought distracting the
person from coming to acceptance of the loss.
Depression is a phase all it’s own even though the first three phases can lead to
it. Anger turned inward can cause depression. Denials numbness can leave a
person uninspired by life. Fruitless bargaining is exhausting and hopeless and
that realization leaves a person feeling out of control and depressed. Depression
can feed on it’s self. Many bad days strung together gives the impression of a life
not worth living.
Acceptance is the healing phase that may need to be revisited from time to time
but leads to harmony between our thoughts and emotions. “Having a good cry”
has been good for many a injured human. The term acceptance connotes a
merge of conflicting realties. The mental reality where we want things to make
sense, be fair and for the good parts to always by there, conflicts with the
emotions “base knowledge” (Seeing a person in a casket) that a loss has
occurred. Acceptance is the mind physically adjusting to a loss and the emotions,
truly acknowledged by the mind. Without acceptance a loss can never be
replaced. (A stolen bicycle will not be replaced until the owner acknowledges the
bike is missing.) Larger losses like that of a loved one can never be completely
replaced but facsimiles may appear in a life ready to fill the emotional void. Crying
followed by kind words and warm people makes for a much improved life, following
getting out hurt feelings. Joy Phase has always been there but I am making it
officially known as the optional bonus phase. It is when after grieving the loss of a
loved one the person holding or talking says something special and a big chuckle
comes out from the formerly grieving heart. A healing heart at peace with Gods
will.
I was introduced to the grief process at a weekend for kids from homes broken by
either, death or divorce. I was experimenting around with various philosophies,
religions, world views and practices and this group my Mom told me about seemed
like it was worth a try. I wasn’t too far into the weekend when I realized how much I
really loved the family I thought I didn’t need. I didn’t cry that weekend but I felt
enough to want to come back the next year where I let the floodgates down. It was
so relieving to be with my sisters and cry out the pain of being separated for so
many years and thinking my family was a lost cause. After the weekend I felt
better, but it took a long time to get to where I felt as close to my family as I thought
we should be. That growth was full of it’s own pain and rewards, begun on a few
special weekends granted to this seeking warrior.
When I left the weekend I was also struck with losing the friends I had made on the
weekend. I want to share this experience with groups who will stay connected so
that the healing is combined with long term relationships that should keep the
healing growing. The exact format of the process can be tailored to different
groups of people and different types of losses.
Best in Folks
We need to find the best in folks, if we are to survive,
We all can do our part each day, to keep us all alive.
Some folks they aren’t so pleasant, but show up at work each day,
Some folks aren’t always working, but their smile makes a day.
It’s up to us to find the gem, that lives in everyone,
As if the jerk that lives next door, were really our own son.
Americans are kindly folks, let’s stretch and be the best,
We’re known for making friends fast, will our deepness stand the test.
They may believe in Jesus, give their lives for others’ good,
Or simply go to church and tithe, the way they think they should.
What if somebody smells a bit, do they deserve less love?
We’re all of one big family, all deserving the kid glove.
We’re all here on this planet, we could have a better place,
What would folk from other planets say, from somewhere out in space.
We need to take the high road, or we’ll wallow in the mire,
To bring out what is best in folks, is something to aspire.
The sick and troubled minds, that lead to crime, are out of whack,
We need to give them hope, for something more than booze or crack.
Drugs prey on the lonely, in this dog eat dog place earth,
They cloud out all frustrations, or with food they build the girth.
Nobody knows it all, we get along as best we can,
There is no greater love, than for to live for fellow man.
To give it all for someone else, is subject for a pause,
Some heroes in the past, have paid the price for this fine cause.
A dude from rural America, or slick from N Y C,
Was cut down by a Nazi slug, so we could all live free.
We need to make to most of life, we’re here for a short time,
To take it all for granted, is indeed a wretched crime.
Americans can do it, show the world a better way,
If not I think we’re sunk, it is our choice to seize the day.
Pull the best from out of them, and shove it in their face,
Never let it down, till they have caught up with the pace.
Smile and believe, we all have God down deep inside,
This journey we call life, can manifest a better ride.
The sunshine that we see each day, will blossom on the face,
If we are truly big enough, to practice using grace.
We’re borrowing this planet, from our grand kids and the rest,
We need to step up to the plate my friend, and do our very best.
By Bruce T. Duncanson
Building Up New Lives
Many of the mentally ill will reach us after they have played their last card, at wits
end, dazed and confused, emotionally drained, spiritually bankrupt, devastated,
violent or suicidal. A life played out and lost can be quite a project to recover
from. Confusion, fear, sadness, shame and pain can reek havoc on the structure
of a life style. Alienation, suspicion and anger are major handicaps to comfortable
reintegration.
Each patient will have eight to thirty people who are aware and active in the
persons life. Giving the patient many nice people to touch base with, learn from
and compare, will provide material to choose from when building a new life. Our
training/school approach will let patients see each other, teach each other and
learn from each other. The software of life, in the mind of one recently devastated,
can be remodeled into something functional the patient can customize to their
liking. Diagrams, formulas and stories can provide baselines, standards and
language for shaping a new and improved life.
Using the analogy of a house I will explore building a full life as a nice house.
A house is to the brain, as a home is to a mind. Each house needs a lot on which
to rest. We provide the space. Each house needs a foundation, a basic premise, a
spirituality, or a ultimate reason for living. I’m here to serve God and I need to have
fun along the way in order to stay healthy and enjoy world peace. Basement floors
aren’t key to a good foundation and religion isn’t required for a spiritual
relationship. Termite shields on the foundation protect the wood like realizing we’re
mortal and require food and water. Anchor bolts to the floor members remind me
that the physical is held secure to the spiritual with faith. The subfloor is made up
of rough wood supported by numerous joists. I think the floor would be akin to
physical security, with the joists as employment and rough wood as physical ability.
Walls are the social graces we use for attractively and securely setting our
boundaries and holding dear our treasures. Windows look out on different parts of
the perimeter like having acquaintances to exchange views on life. Doors let
people get to know us more fully through an act of will to be open and honest with
someone. The ceiling could be like a general outlook, high, beautiful and secure.
The roof would be the covering of the life within. What is the series of thought
trains that tie it together, day to day, that makes it all make sense. Some may have
sky lights where God helps run the train station.
Some people may come to us with no roof because they trust God for everything
(Like providing the Peace Army)and have stone walls with slit windows sitting on a
crumbling foundation with no termite shield and a real nice basement floor. We can
work off of the floor reinforcing the foundation as we slip in the termite shield. We
use their religious predisposition to work with them at finding strength in their faith
and point out that people of faith need to eat. We introduce people to their day
and slowly get dozens of slits opening into modest vantage points. We can dress
up the exterior with instruction, counseling and modeling. Interior walls are harder
to sifer but hopefully the windows will introduce people invited through the doors.
Rooms in the home are for different non-congruous activities. Sleeping is not an
activity to do while showering. Working on hobbies is not to be entertained while at
church. Ceilings can be raised by guarantying physical security, positive
responses from staff and interesting activities. A roof can be improvised when a
patient believes things will work out because they trust us to sweat the big stuff
while they rest and grow. Down spouts are tools to get over overwhelming
thoughts or emotions. A front door mat is the smile with teeth and eyes so handy in
day to day activities. If we can fit someone out with a picture window they will be
comfortable, engaged and able to see another needs. A clothes line is knowing a
group of people in such a way that airing dirty laundry is just part of therapeutic
living. A pair of laundry machines is being able to honestly confront dirty laundry
alone and clean it up. This would be accomplished by the thought acts of
forgiveness, confession, swallowing pride, humility, giving up anger, greed and
selfishness and last but not least keeping lust in check.
Architects tell the patient options they have and point out special needs they may
want to consider. Contractors introduce the patient to the right people per the
architects sketches. Excavators or “earthworkers” dig the person and extend
sufficient grace to allow for great depth. Footings are laid when the patient decides
they want to live. Basement walls are laid up as the patient finds reasons and
purpose in life. A floor of religion is helpful here but not required. Anchor bolts are
seeing others with conviction, enjoying a full life. Crew leaders provide employment
opportunities for money, meaning and meeting people and floor joists are
installed. Walls are erected as time goes on and the person appears healthier
through friendships, acquaintance’s and family. Ceilings are as high as the ceilings
they see other people having positive outlooks. The roof evolves with new thought
tools applied daily, in a instructive, nurturing environment.
Life ain’t Easy
Life ain’t always easy, sometimes bearable at best,
We’re on this planet for a time; it’s all a great big test.
How does a person handle, all the cards that they are dealt?
Can I appreciate and sort, the feelings that I felt?
Am I up to the challenge, to complete my special plan?
Will I recognize the writing, spelled out by the great “I AM?”
What is my meaning, who am I, so why am I around?
Will anybody notice, if I die without a sound?
I’m here right now, the future’s there, my plans aren’t guaranteed,
I need to make the best of things, or I am sunk indeed.
Cherishing the friendships, I’ve developed through the years,
They even out a bumpy road, and wipe away the tears.
My boss will give me money, if I do what I am told,
It’s pretty much the same each day, sometimes it gets real old.
It’s better than a soup line, not as nice as being rich,
Some other jobs are harder, so I really cannot bitch.
The people that I know there, my acquaintances and friends,
Help me make the most of it, a job that never ends.
Week on week, and year on year, my boss still needs me back,
I sometimes get fed up, but then the check sets me on track.
I’ve got myself some hobbies, for my spare time having fun,
A thing to occupy my mind, when all my work is done.
They don’t take too much money; I can share them with my friends,
My hobbies help my journey, round the many turns and bends.
The house I worked so hard to get, is work now and again,
This book I hope to publish, work of my mind and a pen.
I write them out on paper, then I type them on keyboard,
I hope someday I’m famous, with a poet’s type reward.
I make the most of what I’ve got; sometimes it’s really great,
I muddle through the tougher times; sometimes I have to wait.
For weather to get better, for my program on TV,
I wait for all my thoughts to come, I wait for good old me.
My car is not the biggest, but it gets myself around,
And when the music bores me, push a button, change the sound.
I don’t ask for an awful lot, I’ve got most of my needs,
I find joy in helping others; I just like doing good deeds.
I’m not in prison, never was, a blessing that I count,
I’d give my fortune to be free, no matter the amount.
I get wrapped up in plans and schemes, investing with my mind,
I want so much to marry her; she’s there for me to find.
They say just keep on track, change is definitely sure,
There’s ways to cope with boredom; there will never be a cure.
Pain does slowly slip away, through talking or a cry,
We all will be in heaven soon, in the sweet by and by.
Hard work it builds the character, that we were meant to be,
It isn’t rocket science, for the average Joe to see,
That no-ones life is perfect, everybody gets the blues,
It’s all inside the attitude, of how we take the news.
By Bruce T. Duncanson
Clean and Sober
Today I’m clean and sober; it’s a miracle indeed
I’m no longer addicted, in my mind I’m really freed.
No longer do I wonder, do I have enough to last
Can I even afford it, will my brain cells take the blast.
Will I slip between the cracks, into some plastered neverland?
To ponder crazy nonsense, like it’s cool to move my hand.
I might begin to wonder, is it really cold outside?
Or is it ‘cause I think so? no it’s cold, my brain it lied
Could I make it at the college, I can think again a lot
I’m glad I’m not obsessing on “I’ve gotta have my pot.”
I might become a writer, or a teacher with degree
Sky’s the limit baby, cause this man is really free.
Free to save my money, or to wake up feeling clear
Remembering my dreams, is something I hold very dear.
I think that God is talking, when I sleep so sound at night
I get a new perspective; I can get my living right.
I’m building on my past, and at my age that says a lot
I’m more than who I seem, and I am more than what I got.
I have my waking day dreams, what I would really like to do
A life with lots of friends, where I can be a friend that’s true.
By Bruce T. Duncanson
Mental Health
Life is better, when we think it is.
Mental Health Video Jist of it
Humor
Humor is a funny thing; it makes me want to laugh,
It gets me though in comfort man, and that’s only the half.
A laugh in times of trouble, turns a gray sky, partly bright,
And turns a really boring day, into one that’s quite all right.
The physical sensations, stomach jerking in and out,
Making noises near as loud, as when I try to shout.
It gets my mind to thinking, deep inside I hold things dear,
When thoughts are put just right to me, I smile ear to ear.
The way I view the world, determines what I think to laugh at,
The words are fast and edgy, not some blasé bla bla chit chat.
It could be bout your Momma, or a stinky smelly fart,
To make your love or bain a joke, is really quite an art.
Our Lord is not immune; he has a sense of humor too,
He made us like himself; it’s always funnier when true.
A joke can multiply a thought, into a silly roar,
And lift a spirit, fill a void, make endorphin levels soar.
A joke about the Pope, honors the man with standards high,
The one where he’s the chauffeur, puts a twinkle in my eye.
I like to laugh when possible, it makes me just relax,
The way a word gets juxtaposed, or grossly twisted facts.
It really doesn’t take too much, if I am in the mood,
Too turn a smile, into a laugh, be sharp, be cute, be rude.
A cheapskate like Jack Benny, was his trademark all the time,
I’d like to make a joke, if I could it make it kind of rhyme,
Please tell me dearest grand papa, can you sound like a frog,
Why should I ribit little one, why not bark like a dog?
Because of something momma said, I hope it is no joke,
She says that we will all be rich, the minute that you croak.
Dark humor it is curious, what’s funny bout distress,
How can we laugh when someone else, is facing quite a mess?
It doesn’t make much sense, but it is funny, most agree,
It’s even funny when we’re it, the fool for all to see.
Blue humor makes a special laugh, from somewhere deep inside,
It shows what we have on our minds, that some would like to hide.
The lust, that’s human nature, seems real funny by taboo,
It’s sacred, then it’s human, sacred human, me and you.
Potty humors basic, it’s the oldest form there is,
Some caveman thought it funny, for to write his mark in whiz.
We people on this planet, in a really fancy Zoo.
Need to have some fun, and feel the joy go though and through.
It’s good to have a laugh, and look at life through rosy eyes,
The lighter side, the sunny side, is found if someone tries.
There’s always something funny, can be taken to a fault,
But I won’t let that happen, I am so much an adult.
Life is something precious, like a splendid work of art,
And I am just a messenger, who shows the city heart.
By Bruce T. Duncanson
Inner Peace at War
Inner Peace can be elusive, when you want to change the world
Like keeping it together, when your dreams are all unfurled.
Approaching gross injustice, with an air of grace and tact
Hoping hates not real, but knowing hate is still a fact.
Answering the call, to make the world a better place
Jumping in the middle, of a rat infested race.
Helping out the little guy, like that kid is your own
Working all you can, just short of working to the bone.
Making a big difference, doing all the things you can
Keeping in your mind, that you are one woman or man.
Seeing the big picture, long range sight is very wise
Studying the history, evil tends to have disguise.
Who started it and when, and what was done back after that
Retaliation brakes, cannot be just pulled from a hat.
Displaying inner peace, may be the only way to share
Offering a refuge, is a simple way to care.
Sharing peace with strangers, with a nod or with a glimpse
Today all we are saying is to, “give this peace a chance.”
In common we have children, and we all have got a dad
Lets think of what’s in common, long before we all get mad.
A refuge for our own peace, makes us strong enough for hell
It’s hard to offer tea, when we don’t even have a well.
A inexpensive refuge, an example we can share
Then we can wake up rested, make up our bed, go out and care.
A fellowship of warriors, bent on peace at war’s own pace
To get our spirits strong, so we can keep up with the race.
The race, I me me my, has got so many people trapped
Work all day and worry, till their strength is nearly tapped.
Getting all that they can, and go to bed wanting some more
The culture says it’s right, but me myself it’s just a bore.
The gadgets and the gizmos, sold to make our life so great
Come at the price of time; stop charging before it’s too late.
The simple life is easy, if you really stop to look
Stay home and cook a dinner, take a walk, or read a book.
Do what the Lord is telling you; don’t run off with the herd
Productively impassioned, singing peace throughout your word.
“My peace is what I give you, take my peace here as my gift”
Jesus gave us peace, let’s give his peace a little lift.
Creatively conspire, to make this the Promised Land
Love your God and neighbor; do as Jesus would command.
By Bruce T. Duncanson
The Grief Process Theory
The grief process was clearly identified in 1969 by Elizabeth Kubler Ross for her
work with terminally ill people. Basically, grief is processed and upset feelings
resolved when a person accepts a loss. This acceptance is expressed as tears for
great losses or thinking some form of acceptance for the loss of something small.
The acceptance is important because without it, no replacement will be sought and
“reality” will not exist for that piece/peace of the mind. Depending on the
importance of the loss, unresolved grief can cause stress, depression, anger and
even psychosis.
Grief is thought to be composed of five phases. These phases are gone through
for varying lengths of time, in no particular order and all phases aren’t necessarily
gone through. Some phases are revisited and if left untreated a person can get
stuck in a phase.
Anger is when a person gets angry at a loss. This can sometimes be helpful, like
when a possession is taken and the owner fights to get it back. With a loss of the
irreversible kind, anger serves no purpose but to keep the person from feeling the
pain through the final phase of acceptance.
Denial is when a person pretends the loss never occurred. This can be helpful
for small bits of time to think through a situation unaffected by a recent tragedy. If
the denial is carried on too long the truth is lost and a person can feel out of touch
with their feelings of pain healed in the phase of acceptance.
Bargaining is when a person makes deals to get the loss undone. This can be
helpful when restoration is possible so a loss is averted. When a loss is
irreversible bargaining becomes meaningless circles of thought distracting the
person from coming to acceptance of the loss.
Depression is a phase all it’s own even though the first three phases can lead to
it. Anger turned inward can cause depression. Denials numbness can leave a
person uninspired by life. Fruitless bargaining is exhausting and hopeless and
that realization leaves a person feeling out of control and depressed. Depression
can feed on it’s self. Many bad days strung together gives the impression of a life
not worth living.
Acceptance is the healing phase that may need to be revisited from time to time
but leads to harmony between our thoughts and emotions. “Having a good cry”
has been good for many a injured human. The term acceptance connotes a
merge of conflicting realties. The mental reality where we want things to make
sense, be fair and for the good parts to always by there, conflicts with the
emotions “base knowledge” (Seeing a person in a casket) that a loss has
occurred. Acceptance is the mind physically adjusting to a loss and the emotions,
truly acknowledged by the mind. Without acceptance a loss can never be
replaced. (A stolen bicycle will not be replaced until the owner acknowledges the
bike is missing.) Larger losses like that of a loved one can never be completely
replaced but facsimiles may appear in a life ready to fill the emotional void. Crying
followed by kind words and warm people makes for a much improved life, following
getting out hurt feelings. Joy Phase has always been there but I am making it
officially known as the optional bonus phase. It is when after grieving the loss of a
loved one the person holding or talking says something special and a big chuckle
comes out from the formerly grieving heart. A healing heart at peace with Gods
will.
I was introduced to the grief process at a weekend for kids from homes broken by
either, death or divorce. I was experimenting around with various philosophies,
religions, world views and practices and this group my Mom told me about seemed
like it was worth a try. I wasn’t too far into the weekend when I realized how much I
really loved the family I thought I didn’t need. I didn’t cry that weekend but I felt
enough to want to come back the next year where I let the floodgates down. It was
so relieving to be with my sisters and cry out the pain of being separated for so
many years and thinking my family was a lost cause. After the weekend I felt
better, but it took a long time to get to where I felt as close to my family as I thought
we should be. That growth was full of it’s own pain and rewards, begun on a few
special weekends granted to this seeking warrior.
When I left the weekend I was also struck with losing the friends I had made on the
weekend. I want to share this experience with groups who will stay connected so
that the healing is combined with long term relationships that should keep the
healing growing. The exact format of the process can be tailored to different
groups of people and different types of losses.
Best in Folks
We need to find the best in folks, if we are to survive,
We all can do our part each day, to keep us all alive.
Some folks they aren’t so pleasant, but show up at work each day,
Some folks aren’t always working, but their smile makes a day.
It’s up to us to find the gem, that lives in everyone,
As if the jerk that lives next door, were really our own son.
Americans are kindly folks, let’s stretch and be the best,
We’re known for making friends fast, will our deepness stand the test.
They may believe in Jesus, give their lives for others’ good,
Or simply go to church and tithe, the way they think they should.
What if somebody smells a bit, do they deserve less love?
We’re all of one big family, all deserving the kid glove.
We’re all here on this planet, we could have a better place,
What would folk from other planets say, from somewhere out in space.
We need to take the high road, or we’ll wallow in the mire,
To bring out what is best in folks, is something to aspire.
The sick and troubled minds, that lead to crime, are out of whack,
We need to give them hope, for something more than booze or crack.
Drugs prey on the lonely, in this dog eat dog place earth,
They cloud out all frustrations, or with food they build the girth.
Nobody knows it all, we get along as best we can,
There is no greater love, than for to live for fellow man.
To give it all for someone else, is subject for a pause,
Some heroes in the past, have paid the price for this fine cause.
A dude from rural America, or slick from N Y C,
Was cut down by a Nazi slug, so we could all live free.
We need to make to most of life, we’re here for a short time,
To take it all for granted, is indeed a wretched crime.
Americans can do it, show the world a better way,
If not I think we’re sunk, it is our choice to seize the day.
Pull the best from out of them, and shove it in their face,
Never let it down, till they have caught up with the pace.
Smile and believe, we all have God down deep inside,
This journey we call life, can manifest a better ride.
The sunshine that we see each day, will blossom on the face,
If we are truly big enough, to practice using grace.
We’re borrowing this planet, from our grand kids and the rest,
We need to step up to the plate my friend, and do our very best.
By Bruce T. Duncanson
Building Up New Lives
Many of the mentally ill will reach us after they have played their last card, at wits
end, dazed and confused, emotionally drained, spiritually bankrupt, devastated,
violent or suicidal. A life played out and lost can be quite a project to recover
from. Confusion, fear, sadness, shame and pain can reek havoc on the structure
of a life style. Alienation, suspicion and anger are major handicaps to comfortable
reintegration.
Each patient will have eight to thirty people who are aware and active in the
persons life. Giving the patient many nice people to touch base with, learn from
and compare, will provide material to choose from when building a new life. Our
training/school approach will let patients see each other, teach each other and
learn from each other. The software of life, in the mind of one recently devastated,
can be remodeled into something functional the patient can customize to their
liking. Diagrams, formulas and stories can provide baselines, standards and
language for shaping a new and improved life.
Using the analogy of a house I will explore building a full life as a nice house.
A house is to the brain, as a home is to a mind. Each house needs a lot on which
to rest. We provide the space. Each house needs a foundation, a basic premise, a
spirituality, or a ultimate reason for living. I’m here to serve God and I need to have
fun along the way in order to stay healthy and enjoy world peace. Basement floors
aren’t key to a good foundation and religion isn’t required for a spiritual
relationship. Termite shields on the foundation protect the wood like realizing we’re
mortal and require food and water. Anchor bolts to the floor members remind me
that the physical is held secure to the spiritual with faith. The subfloor is made up
of rough wood supported by numerous joists. I think the floor would be akin to
physical security, with the joists as employment and rough wood as physical ability.
Walls are the social graces we use for attractively and securely setting our
boundaries and holding dear our treasures. Windows look out on different parts of
the perimeter like having acquaintances to exchange views on life. Doors let
people get to know us more fully through an act of will to be open and honest with
someone. The ceiling could be like a general outlook, high, beautiful and secure.
The roof would be the covering of the life within. What is the series of thought
trains that tie it together, day to day, that makes it all make sense. Some may have
sky lights where God helps run the train station.
Some people may come to us with no roof because they trust God for everything
(Like providing the Peace Army)and have stone walls with slit windows sitting on a
crumbling foundation with no termite shield and a real nice basement floor. We can
work off of the floor reinforcing the foundation as we slip in the termite shield. We
use their religious predisposition to work with them at finding strength in their faith
and point out that people of faith need to eat. We introduce people to their day
and slowly get dozens of slits opening into modest vantage points. We can dress
up the exterior with instruction, counseling and modeling. Interior walls are harder
to sifer but hopefully the windows will introduce people invited through the doors.
Rooms in the home are for different non-congruous activities. Sleeping is not an
activity to do while showering. Working on hobbies is not to be entertained while at
church. Ceilings can be raised by guarantying physical security, positive
responses from staff and interesting activities. A roof can be improvised when a
patient believes things will work out because they trust us to sweat the big stuff
while they rest and grow. Down spouts are tools to get over overwhelming
thoughts or emotions. A front door mat is the smile with teeth and eyes so handy in
day to day activities. If we can fit someone out with a picture window they will be
comfortable, engaged and able to see another needs. A clothes line is knowing a
group of people in such a way that airing dirty laundry is just part of therapeutic
living. A pair of laundry machines is being able to honestly confront dirty laundry
alone and clean it up. This would be accomplished by the thought acts of
forgiveness, confession, swallowing pride, humility, giving up anger, greed and
selfishness and last but not least keeping lust in check.
Architects tell the patient options they have and point out special needs they may
want to consider. Contractors introduce the patient to the right people per the
architects sketches. Excavators or “earthworkers” dig the person and extend
sufficient grace to allow for great depth. Footings are laid when the patient decides
they want to live. Basement walls are laid up as the patient finds reasons and
purpose in life. A floor of religion is helpful here but not required. Anchor bolts are
seeing others with conviction, enjoying a full life. Crew leaders provide employment
opportunities for money, meaning and meeting people and floor joists are
installed. Walls are erected as time goes on and the person appears healthier
through friendships, acquaintance’s and family. Ceilings are as high as the ceilings
they see other people having positive outlooks. The roof evolves with new thought
tools applied daily, in a instructive, nurturing environment.
Life ain’t Easy
Life ain’t always easy, sometimes bearable at best,
We’re on this planet for a time; it’s all a great big test.
How does a person handle, all the cards that they are dealt?
Can I appreciate and sort, the feelings that I felt?
Am I up to the challenge, to complete my special plan?
Will I recognize the writing, spelled out by the great “I AM?”
What is my meaning, who am I, so why am I around?
Will anybody notice, if I die without a sound?
I’m here right now, the future’s there, my plans aren’t guaranteed,
I need to make the best of things, or I am sunk indeed.
Cherishing the friendships, I’ve developed through the years,
They even out a bumpy road, and wipe away the tears.
My boss will give me money, if I do what I am told,
It’s pretty much the same each day, sometimes it gets real old.
It’s better than a soup line, not as nice as being rich,
Some other jobs are harder, so I really cannot bitch.
The people that I know there, my acquaintances and friends,
Help me make the most of it, a job that never ends.
Week on week, and year on year, my boss still needs me back,
I sometimes get fed up, but then the check sets me on track.
I’ve got myself some hobbies, for my spare time having fun,
A thing to occupy my mind, when all my work is done.
They don’t take too much money; I can share them with my friends,
My hobbies help my journey, round the many turns and bends.
The house I worked so hard to get, is work now and again,
This book I hope to publish, work of my mind and a pen.
I write them out on paper, then I type them on keyboard,
I hope someday I’m famous, with a poet’s type reward.
I make the most of what I’ve got; sometimes it’s really great,
I muddle through the tougher times; sometimes I have to wait.
For weather to get better, for my program on TV,
I wait for all my thoughts to come, I wait for good old me.
My car is not the biggest, but it gets myself around,
And when the music bores me, push a button, change the sound.
I don’t ask for an awful lot, I’ve got most of my needs,
I find joy in helping others; I just like doing good deeds.
I’m not in prison, never was, a blessing that I count,
I’d give my fortune to be free, no matter the amount.
I get wrapped up in plans and schemes, investing with my mind,
I want so much to marry her; she’s there for me to find.
They say just keep on track, change is definitely sure,
There’s ways to cope with boredom; there will never be a cure.
Pain does slowly slip away, through talking or a cry,
We all will be in heaven soon, in the sweet by and by.
Hard work it builds the character, that we were meant to be,
It isn’t rocket science, for the average Joe to see,
That no-ones life is perfect, everybody gets the blues,
It’s all inside the attitude, of how we take the news.
By Bruce T. Duncanson
Clean and Sober
Today I’m clean and sober; it’s a miracle indeed
I’m no longer addicted, in my mind I’m really freed.
No longer do I wonder, do I have enough to last
Can I even afford it, will my brain cells take the blast.
Will I slip between the cracks, into some plastered neverland?
To ponder crazy nonsense, like it’s cool to move my hand.
I might begin to wonder, is it really cold outside?
Or is it ‘cause I think so? no it’s cold, my brain it lied
Could I make it at the college, I can think again a lot
I’m glad I’m not obsessing on “I’ve gotta have my pot.”
I might become a writer, or a teacher with degree
Sky’s the limit baby, cause this man is really free.
Free to save my money, or to wake up feeling clear
Remembering my dreams, is something I hold very dear.
I think that God is talking, when I sleep so sound at night
I get a new perspective; I can get my living right.
I’m building on my past, and at my age that says a lot
I’m more than who I seem, and I am more than what I got.
I have my waking day dreams, what I would really like to do
A life with lots of friends, where I can be a friend that’s true.
By Bruce T. Duncanson
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