Ordinary Madness
I believe we’re born with huge potential for brain activity, potential for thinking in diverse and deep ways that most of us don’t explore. Our physical health has now turned a corner and is no longer entirely in the hands of experts; we know that we can affect our own health and take responsibility for it. Our ‘ordinary health’ is our responsibility and any ‘ordinary illnesses’ are often treated by ourselves. We try to look after ourselves and avoid illness and disease and lead a healthy life. For me that growth in self-knowledge about our physical selves has a parallel in our mental states.
We pop round to the doctor and discuss our physical ailments as easily as we catch a bus. What would it be like if there were as many counselling centres as there are health centres and we could pop in there when we’re unhappy or stressed or just when life gets too much for us? We’d have to leave our bad backs and bunions at the door and go in and talk about our thinking. Could a mind doctor help us think healthily? Or would it be a case of talking ourselves well?
I wrote myself well by writing down my mad thoughts, in the end they became old friends, like a sore throat soothed by a hot drink. Are we frightened of the power of our own thinking? Would we rather focus on a safe and certain future than deal with an ever unfolding present? To be honest, the world has always seemed a bit mad to me and yet quite ordinary in its madness – well that’s how I feel about our mental states. In the same way that we are all unique human beings and yet quite ordinary, I believe we are also unique in our mental ability and yet ordinary in our madness.
This is not to dispute the mental agony of someone with mental health problems, rather something that Arnfrid Beier has found to be fertile ground for his writing. The darker recesses of his mind are places that he wants to explore and in doing so his writing can seem a bit mad and a bit ordinary too.
© Eileen Birkenhead January 2009
