Tablescapes

House Beautiful magazine features a page devoted to tablescapes with elegant place settings. It’s one of my favorite features of the magazine.

What resonates with me about this is that tablescapes are the perfect living metaphor for artistic expression.

It should come as no surprise that I’m also an Artist/Creative archetype. In the blog over the years I’ve talked about creativity and mental health. I’ve talked about my days as a disc jockey. I’ve talked about fashion and music.

I’ve long wanted to create things of beauty to give others. Those of us who are artists should be supported and encouraged to express ourselves through our chosen medium or media.

Too often artists are told to do what will earn us tons of money regardless of whether we’d be truly unhappy in a blue pinstripe suit life. My contention is that a person can have emotional riches even though they’re not financially well-off.

I want to tell all the artists and creative folk reading this blog that it’s OK to be who you are. Others in society might bow down before Kim Kardashian and people who get famous for being rich and beautiful.

I say: refrain from being snowballed.

According to Caroline Myss anyone with an Artist/Creative archetype will truly be successful in life only when they’re creating their art. So that it doesn’t matter if we have the adoration of millions or just ten followers or only do our art to please our soul.

She rightly states that a lot of Artist/Creatives might not ever get rich or become famous. Something as simple as creating a tablescape or decorating your apartment in style constitutes the true hallmark of this archetype.

I find this all so fascinating about archetypes.

Thus I want to support other artists and say: rock on!

Fall Dinner Party Theme – Missoni

Possibly this will inspire you to host your own elegant soiree.

Holiday Season-ings

I want to season the holiday time with good cheer for others.

The ending of the year could remind us of loved ones who are gone or unrealized dreams or unfinished business from the past.

I say: abandoning a goal that’s not supposed to be is a wise strategy. Years ago I wanted to get a diploma in image consulting from FIT. Somehow I was able to find out on the Internet that FIT offered a diploma in image consulting.

This goal didn’t ever happen. It’s why I contend that it’s wise to accept that some things aren’t supposed to be.

At this point in my life (I’m 50) I make the case for self-acceptance. I have famously stated in an earlier incarnation of the blog that I won’t ever shoot hoops for the Ladies Liberty because I’m only five feet tall.

Being realistic about what you can and cannot do is the first step. Next we can focus on what we CAN do and we CAN have.

I gave up after seven years of trying the myth that I could be an Executive archetype commanding power in the insurance field.

Sometimes we’re not aware of the disconnect because the goal is something we WANT to do at the time. As we go along it turns out to be a mistake.

I say: let’s lighten up and be realistic. The NAMI Peer Support guideline states: “We expect a better tomorrow in a realistic way.”

The holidays and the end of the year should be a time of reflection: to take stock of how far we’ve come, pat ourselves on the back for our efforts regardless of whether we achieved a certain goal, and set our intention for the New Year.

And hey: judicious retail therapy can’t hurt if you stick to a budget.

I was cheered that a denim jacket I bought fits perfectly and looks good.

Happy December to you!

Archetypes

I titled my memoir Left of the Dial to signal having an organic life where a person’s thoughts and feelings are in synch.

As a disc jockey, I read the VU meter to measure the level of sound intensity of the music. If the needle veered to the right in the red, it was too loud. If it was to the left of the dial the sound was in balance.

So too when your thoughts and feelings are noisy and chaotic–veering into the red–that could signal dis-ease. I co-opted the term left of the dial to connote that you can have a full and robust life doing what gives you joy. And that doing what you love is the way to achieve optimal mental health.

A book I’m reading corroborates what I’ve been writing about all along. The Carolyn Myss book Archetypes lists the features of the 10 primary archetypes. I’m all for honoring and nurturing everyone’s archetype(s) so that each of us can live a happy, healthy life.

Too often we convince ourselves to do or not do something and this could restrict us and make us ill. These are the “myths” the author talks about for each archetype. Failing to live up to your archetype can cause illness and dis-ease.

Not surprisingly I discovered I’m a Fashionista. For this archetype: “beauty and fashion carry projection of your journey of self-empowerment and inner growth to a degree unmatched in any other archetype.”

In Left of the Dial I documented this love of fashion. A couple of reviewers protested this. Yet scratch below the surface and how a person styles herself can be an act of freedom to be our authentic selves.

Myss rightly asserts that discovering your archetype(s) can free you to make the right choices in life–in a career, in a relationship, in how you live and act in the world.

I recommend that you go on the Archtypes website and take the quiz to determine your Top 3. Discovering them and living in tune with them could possibly help shift the needle to the left where everything is in harmony.

It’s a fascinating study and it appears eerily accurate just like the personality type quiz and other self-assessment measurements that are out there on the Internet–like the Kolbe A Index and the CareerMatchmaker I talked about in the Flourish blog.

I’m all for using these kinds of tools that can help a person in recovery live a balanced life of purpose and passion.

Telling Our Stories

The veteran in the video I link to at the bottom is quoted: “You served combat. Or not. You have a story. Tell it.”

Children are asked to sign a life-sized poster board thanking our veterans for serving our country. A bunch of us are conflicted when those brown-skinned children’s grandmothers’ houses in Syria are being bombed.

The two of us think we shouldn’t have started the failed endless wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Yet joining the military is like taking a vow to become a priest: you might not be under oath yet it’s what you signed up for: serving our country.

We can argue that having blind allegiance regardless of the outcome (think: desecrating a Doctors Without Borders hospital) doesn’t solve anything. We can argue that the billions spent on these wars should’ve been spent on mental healthcare instead. We can argue that we could’ve taken the money spent on war and used it to fund the college education of kids who live in poverty.

Hold those thoughts.

I want to talk about veterans of all stripes now: those who pledged undying (and sometimes dying) loyalty to serve in our military. Those who’ve been through psychic wars. Soldiers fighting mental illness. Those of us battling discrimination because of our mental illness or because of our other perceived “difference.”

It might not be OK to lump all veterans together with our armed forces. Yet my point is that Joe Bruni is right: “You served combat. Or not. You have a story. Tell it.”

I dream a world where there’s no war of any kind. Where American soldiers are not sent into dubious battles programmed to kill. Where people with schizophrenia don’t have to do battle every day with their illness because they’ve gotten effective treatment as soon as they need it.

Where fighting for our rights as human beings is not necessary.

The message is: “Land of the Free Because of the Brave.”

In this regard: I raise a pint to every brave soul who has fought in a U.S. war. I raise a pint to every person who’s fighting some kind of battle in their lives.

We must never forget the lives of anyone who fights. Whether a person is fighting for our country or fighting for their rights or fighting for wellness inside of illness: we must never forget them and never abandon them.

Here’s the Tribute to Joe video on CNN:

Cucina Povera

Abito una vita di cucina povera adesso. Soltanto mangio lentiche; pasta; verdure; dei pesce; e frutta. Aqua, aqua, aqua. Non bevande.

The Italian is elegant: cucina povera is literally “poor kitchen” or poverty food. It sounds beautiful in Italian though.

Years ago I told my shrink: “I want to lose weight.”

His automatic response: “Lay off the pasta”–giving me a Cheshire smile like he knew I was up to no good with the sauce.

Yet I think more psychiatrists should take an active role in having a dialogue with their patients about health, nutrition, and fitness. I think it’s foolish and could be unethical to merely write out a prescription and send the person on their way after a irresolute 15-minute chat.

I have decided that having a poor kitchen eating plan is better: for my wallet, my health, and for our planet.

We need to vote with our pocketbooks and not fork over our hard-earned money on food and drink that is going to make us sick while agribusinesses earn billions and billions of dollars.

Monsant-No! has polluted waterways with cancer-causing PCBs that have decimated inhabitants of a town and left it a ghost town. This company vociferously claimed its Agent Orange product would not harm human beings. Yes right we all know how that turned out.

Eating mostly fruits and vegetables is the way to go now. And I eat mostly organic fruits and vegetables. It’s better for the planet; it’s better for our plates. This is one instance where individual choices can benefit the world we live in beyond our bottom line–our waists and wallets.

I will return in here with cheap, simple recipes readers can cook or make.

I wrote in the Flourish blog about nutritional psychiatry. It’s high time and high tide that psychiatrists strive to treat the whole person: our bodies not just our heads.

Our shrinks must dialogue with us about our eating habits and refer us to a nutritionist if we have to consider this option. From 1990 to 1993 I met with an MD who had a private practice focused on nutrition and health. Dr. K. wrote on her prescription pad the RDAs of protein, calcium, and other vitamins I needed to have in my diet and what kinds of foods were the source of the RDAs.

I doubt it’s a coincidence that after I started seeing Dr. K I lost 20 pounds and kept it off until I was 40 and gained five pounds. Since taking up a weight lifting routine I lost those five pounds again.

There’s something to be said about judicious frugality like keeping a poor kitchen.

Autumn Generation

Isn’t it always like fall is the true start of the year?

I went back to school in fall 1997 to obtain my library degree. Ten years after I was diagnosed I went to Pratt Institute.

I recommend setting a goal to achieve in the fall. I also do recommend buying one or two new items of clothing if you can afford to. Coupon codes are widely available now on Internet retailer websites.

In my memoir: the energy of the book takes off and quickens starting with the chapter where I’m in school that first semester.

Thus I will post an excerpt from Left of the Dial here next Tuesday that is a scene from when I was in school.

Now the weather will get cooler for a lot of us so we can enjoy the fall. I always think it’s the perfect time to bumble about New York City.

Stay tuned for the memoir excerpt.

Che Bella Figura

The Italian ethic of che bella figura is literally what beautiful figure a person makes in society.

It’s the often stylized theatrics of acting as if you’re successful long before you’ve arrived at the place you want to be. I alluded to this in a scene in Left of the Dial.

In one way I had certain expectations I was supposed to live up to: to go to college to better myself and go farther than my parents had. Though having owned their own business isn’t shabby.

I do think culture impacts a person in recovery. This has not been widely researched or reported on or at least I could not find a lot of information about it on the Internet.

I contributed a 10-page chapter “Recovery is Within Reach” to Benessere Psicologico: contemporary thought on Italian American mental health. That’s of course psychological well-being in Italian. You can buy this book on Amazon. It features three peer stories in the first-person recovery section of the book as well as interesting glimpses into research studies about ethnicity and counseling.

Yes: I’m proud to be Italian. I credit the love and support of my close-knit Italian American family as a prime factor in how far I was able to go in my recovery.

I remember dancing the tarantella at American Legion halls. I remember the parties hosted downstairs in my Nonna’s basement. Nonna’s food was sprinkled with garlic cloves as big as teeth. You could scare the devil with how hot the sauce was.

No: I don’t approve of the family-bashing that goes on in the consumer recovery movement. I don’t approve either of when family members call their loved ones “a schizophrenic.”

Above all my mother was quick to boot my ass to go out and get a job. She didn’t think I was a schizophrenic: she thought I could hold a job just like other people could.

In October I will talk about finding the career you love. October is Disability Employment Awareness Month.

Stay tuned.

Book Signing

I will be selling copies of Left of the Dial my memoir at the NAMI-New York State educational conference in November. The conference is November 13 to 15. On that Friday and Saturday I will be selling copies of my book for only $10.

Wherever I go I sell the book for only $10: a rock bottom price because there’s no tax and shipping involved.

The conference is at the Desmond Hotel in Albany, NY. I was a guest speaker on two panels at the conference in 2004 and 2005.

In the coming weeks I’ll write about giving and receiving support in our recovery and in our lives. I’ll feature glimpses into my Italian American experience and how this culture impacted my success in life as a person in recovery.

I’m going to keep this blog entry short and sign off now.

Having a Full and Robust Life

I’m not a fan of labels like psychiatric survivor. To me a survivor is merely someone who survived an experience. I’d rather be a winner: a person who got in the ring and fought the illness and was the last one standing.

In recovery as in life there are no guarantees. We have to treasure what we have because it could be gone tomorrow. That’s what I would tell anyone who doesn’t have a mental illness too.

I want others to focus on the humanitarian work I do not on what I’ve achieved for myself. I use my experiences to uplift and inspire others–true–yet my goal was not to claim that everyone can do what I’ve done or has to do what I’ve done to be given credit in society.

Since I first started blogging years ago I’ve championed that each of us figures out what makes us happy and goes and does that. Your blueprint for living your life is going to be different from mine.

My ulterior motive was to show how I rose up against the stigma the mental health staff tried to reinforce when I dared tell them I wanted to get a job and live independently. My contention has always been that a person diagnosed with schizophrenia should not settle for less than full participation in society on equal footing with everyone else.

Most people covet having a “normal” life or covet being “normal.”

The book flap for Kelly Cutrone’s Normal Gets You Nowhere defines normal as:

“according with, constituting, or not deviating from a norm, rule, or principle / conforming to a type, standard, or regular pattern / of, relating to, or characterized by average intelligence or development.”

That doesn’t sound like something I ever wanted to be though at one point I wanted to be “free from mental defect” another definition of normal.

Like I said I consider myself to be an ordinary person. I simply wanted to do great things. That’s the difference: each of us has gifts we were born with to use to better ourselves and others in the world.

Everyone has God-given gifts and talents. No one is better than anyone else because in this regard we’re all equals: we have gifts and talents. Daring to use these strengths to create a better life for ourselves and others is the secret to success in recovery.

I make the case for striving to have a full and robust life not just surviving hell and living a life of anger and resentment.

A trend has come on to champion having an ordinary, average life in recovery. Yet I don’t think a person is ordinary or average even if they have a “normal” life. I think greatness lies in each of us regardless of whether a person has a masters degree or is a JD or MD.

That’s why shortly I’m going to feature other peer stories in here. I promised this a couple of months ago and I should be able to start this in September.

A lot of people still cling to using a label like psychiatric survivor. My goal is to showcase peers who have real lives apart from their illness and apart from their diagnosis.

Having a normal life doesn’t appeal to me: having a full and robust life does.

That’s what I intend to do: feature peers who have full and robust lives. Stay tuned.

Stunned is the Word

Stunned is the word for what happened to me when I did a good deed this weekend.

I was entering a market and a woman sitting outside belted out: “Spare a couple dollars for a sandwich.”

“Come inside and pick something,” I quickly ushered her in. Luckily the vegetable pannini was only five dollars. “Can I get a soda?” she asked.

“Okay,” I said and she came back with a San Pellegrino.

“How much?” I queried the cashier. “Seven dollars,” she said. I paid and started my own shopping.

“Thank you, thank you.” The woman hurried outside to her perch in front of the store.

As I exited with my own provisions I thought the woman might have a mental illness. She might collect SSI and not have money this far along in the month to buy food. She was not skeletal like a heroin addict and did not wear long sleeves. Her hair was immaculate and she wore a tee shirt and pants.

I have a good nature so I didn’t think the woman had money and was too cheap to want to buy her own food. She might have been on the cusp of becoming homeless.

Kelly Cutrone in her book Normal Gets You Nowhere excoriates Christians and other shoppers who go in and out of stores buying $19.99 junk gifts and step around homeless people in front of the stores. No one gives these subway grate fixtures money or offers to buy them a slice of pizza.

Today I was tested: I bought a woman begging for change a meal. My intuition tells me she might have had a mental illness and couldn’t afford food this far along in the month.

I do not like to think she was an ordinary woman too cheap to buy her own meals. A song title claims the singer “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg” and this might have been talking about the scraps of love he wanted a woman to give him. Yet it would astound me if the woman had no pride and was too cheap to buy her own food.

This is a great mystery to me right now.

The trains were running late and it took me two hours to get home. By then my broccoli rabe was wilted. The delice soft cheese was melted.

It was another hot night in a cool city.