I MUST blog...

I am sorry my blog is a bit cathartic... but that's the way it is. There's a few things I want to get off my chest.

Ian Harris where are you?

Ian Harris is a journalist/commentator who writes regularly in the local paper. I am not sure where he lives, I suspect it is locally. Anyway on Friday he wrote about "progressive Christianity" and described a style of Church that we are seeking to establish. He says of this that "the focus is on building communities bearing ... 'the dangerous memory of Jesus', and exploring what that means for living today". There are aspects about "progressive Christianity" that pertain to the way we understand "belief", the way we see the scriptures, about inclusiveness and a certain style of Church language etc. Anyway the thing that annoyed me is that he wrote.... ".. so far just five congregations (in NZ) identify themselves as progressive." He listed them off. That annoys me. I wanted to yell... "Hey Ian, I would class ourselves as fitting that description!" (even more so than one he listed) I also know of some renegade Baptist and Methodist ministers and congregations who would fit the description. And what about churches which are in transition? It takes heaps of blood sweat and tears to bring change in congregations and I felt Ian Harris did not have the right to make such a claim. The thing is that I already wrote a letter to the editor about another matter last week and did not want to sound off again this week. I thought too that it was something that was better done in private. I have been looking for some contact address for Ian Harris to respond to him in person, but cannot find it. Google let me down. I will keep looking.

"Bloody Terry! ... bloody mental health system!"

Friday week ago Terry came to our drop-in centre as he normally did every Friday night. I have known Terry for about 15 years. I have played hours of pool and table tennis with him. I have swum with him and spent hours in conversation with him. Terry loved to go tramping. He loved building things with rocks and was good at it. He built his own house, a mini rock castle with a tower. He had a massive conservatory on his castle in which he had a very productive vege garden. He sometimes tended to be paranoid about authorities, often bucked the system but was generally fairly rational. Well this Friday night when I asked him how he was he broke down and cried. He had had enough. He suggested suicide, and I didn't want him to go home to his castle alone that night. I booked him into the night shelter where I knew someone was supervising. Well it turned out the supervisor felt he was too irrational, called the police and psych services and Terry was carted off to the hospital. They checked him out and Terry went home. The next morning I made contact with him, and during last week he touched base with us several times through Space2B. He was staying with friends for a few nights then spent a night in a back packer. He had been to the doctor and had another appointment booked for today. I thought his ideas of suicide were behind him. Today I sadly learned that Terry had shot himself on Saturday morning! The last thing he said to me as he walked out the door of Space2B on Friday was, "Thank you for the support Dave. It means a lot." Obviously my support was not enough. I am sad. I am angry. Angry at Terry for making the choice he did. Angry at myself... maybe there was more I could have done. Angry at our mental health system, health system and how often people don't get the support they need. Ultimately it was Terry's choice and he had his various struggles.

I recall in the early days of our drop-in centre there was a stand off between two guys, one of whom was fortified with some sort of drugs... in a bit of a stupor. The drugged up one grabbed a chair by its back and was going to smash it over the other. I stepped between them and was expecting to wear the chair. It never came. Terry who was sitting behind, calmly swung back on his seat and as the chair moved toward me, he reached up and grabbed the leg of it. It gave me the opportunity to calm things down and talk things out. Terry just winked at me and went on with his conversation.

We operate our drop-in on the smell of an oily rag, and many of our pool cues came from the store out at the rubbish tip. Terry, a good pool player, was frustrated with the standard of cues and purchased himself a new cue, but also bought one for the drop-in centre. His was stored in the cupboard along with the one he donated.

I will miss Terry. He was often very passionate about his projects and his adventures. He would race up to me and tell me about his latest adventure. My wife and I were hosted for afternoon tea at his rock castle once. He proudly showed us around and discussed the building issues with me and how he went about things. (his garden wall is made up of fridges cemented together like building bricks) He took us up to the tower, through his bedroom area. The rock, spiral stair case leading up to his bedroom is fairly narrow. He said with a cheeky grin, "I am going to get me a lady, put her up there in the bedroom, then feed her up so she can't fit back down." .. and of course gave me a wink. On Friday as I open the drop-in and let our guests in, greeting each as they come through the door, I will miss Terry's smile, nod and "Gidday Dave!" Bugger!

Philosophy of life.

As it happens my bed time reading for the last couple of weeks has been a book called "Suicide: The forever decision." by Dr. Paul G. Quinnett. It is a printed off E-book. In the very last chapter Dr Quinnett challenges his readers (people considering suicide) to think about a philosophy of life. This, he said was a "spiritual" or "existential" exercise, requiring us to take time to think deeply about life. He said that such an exercise will be like "a flywheel" and give us hope and momentum in the difficult times of life. I think he is right. I think such an exercise would help deal to a lot of the problems we face in our society. People drinking too much, people drifting into bad lifestyles, etc. etc.

South Australian Mother of the Year...

My friend Ian's widow, Curly Corlett in South Australia, won the Mother of the Year title in South Australia. It was great. I was skyping with her on Saturday. She told me how she came across three unemployed young people asking for money out side of a shop. She gave them some and as she walked away, decided to go back and challenge them. This 60 ish year old lady (I think) went up to them and asked about their employment situation. Then in love she said to them. "You can't just sit around doing nothing all your life. It's not good for anyone. Do something! Volunteer for something. Look for something constructive to do. Don't waste your life. Other wise you will get to be an old person like me and look back on your life and see nothing worthwhile for it. Wouldn't it be good to get to my age and be able to say 'Look what I have done!'? Do something worthwhile, whether or not you're getting paid for it!" (I am paraphrasing a bit) In her motherly way she is saying in effect what Dr Quinnett is saying. Have some reason to live!

I have been asked to take part in Terry's funeral on Friday... wish me luck.

Photo: A small hut in the bush that Terry and a friend built out of the left over rubbish from the old Green Hut in the Silver Peaks area. It is in the bush down the hill from the Green Hut site. I hope to tramp in there on Saturday as a way of remembering Terry.