Author: cobdenmerv

The first awakening when I left the church was that my faith was in ministers and the system they represent. It was a shock, because I thought I knew God, His Son, and the Spirit, but if I did, why did I feel so exposed and vulnerable on leaving? Yes, a shock awakening, but also a good starting point to get to know the God I thought I knew.

Prior to leaving I had questions that the ministers couldn’t answer, surely a warning sign that one’s faith is in something that does not stand up to scrutiny. I remember saying to a minister once “The biggest question of our times for all of us is ‘are we saved or are we not saved?’” He had been talking about the constant distress his aged mother was in about not being good enough and missing out at the last. Curiously enough he agreed with me, even though he had framed the situation as the devil at work. I suspect he had no idea what I was talking about.

Assurance of salvation. I got it from the same place Luther did, the book of Galatians. One commentary begins:

The epistle to the Galatians is spiritual dynamite, and it is therefore almost impossible to handle it without explosions.
At every point it challenges our present-day shallow, easy acceptances and provokes our opposition.
In its refusal to allow salvation to depend on anything save the work done for helpless man by God almighty, and enjoyed by a faith which is itself a gift of God, it is a cry for Christian freedom. True, this condemns those who make salvation depend on forms and ceremonies as well as on faith in Christ (for the crime of the Judaizers was not that they substituted something for Christ’s work, but that they tried to add something to it). But it equally condemns those earnest Christians who subconsciously make salvation not only on faith in Christ, but also on the observance of negative moral laws.

From Cole, R.A. (1965) Galatians Tyndale Press, London

Don’t you love it! I might have felt exposed and vulnerable having left the only fellowship I had ever known, but I left with something many of them had never known, an understanding of grace. Possibly the best foundation for building a faith practice that stands up to scrutiny, one built without stuff coming from the minister.

A good friend asked me how my journey into post-church growth started. You are getting a better answer than he did, because I have thought about it a lot since. It started by discarding things I no longer believed in like the one true church, becoming nothings in order to be something, a god-like deity requiring obedience and sacrifice, and, perhaps most significant of all, much of what we heard presented as ‘the gospel’. One of the ‘explosive’ ideas in Galatians was the difference between Peter’s gospel (only for us, or people who become like us) and Paul’s (good news for all mankind). One a contract of works, the other a covenant of grace.

For many of us, our walk with God started with a ‘gospel’ prompting, however defined. I believe the next phase will too. Paul’s gospel will have an appeal for any moving away from the idea of ‘the perfect church’, but what, exactly is his message? I believe the answer is seen in what is known as ‘The Gospel in Chairs’ and I say ‘seen’ intentionally, for it is a demonstration you need to watch, not text to read. Here is one version I love: The Gospel in Chairs  for it shows me what I used to believe about God, and what I embrace now. Clearly ‘good news’.

I referred to what I used to believe, and what I embrace now. I have lots of those. Let me tell you about a man who has lots of those too. A man who was asked by his wife to write down his ideas about God as a gift for their children. He did so, went to Office Depot and printed off fifteen copies. He gave some to friends. In 2007 it became a book (after being rejected by 30 odd Christian and secular publishers) and later a movie. It has sold over twenty million copies, making it one of the best-selling books of all time. He says it is a story for his kids about the God who showed up to heal his heart, not the one he grew up with. I feel certain there are many of us here for whom that statement will have resonance.

For all that, I don’t recommend the book, at least not in the early stages of this post-meeting journey. Instead I recommend listening to the author for a sense of who he is, and whether you could trust in what he writes about the god he used to know, and especially if in your mind he could be trusted to present a ‘showing up and healing’ god. That’s the God we are all yearning to know more fully. I suggest you watch:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJ-wn-l893c&t=3407s  Give yourself time to absorb what he is saying, and permission to switch it off if you like. Remember I am talking about my journey into an intimacy with God that I had never known, what started my journey toward post-meeting growth. It would be presumptuous in the extreme for me to tell others how it is done, for their journey will be an individual one, led by the beautiful drawing power of a father’s love.

And besides, awakening is all about emerging from blissful sleep in our own time, not some brazen zealot screaming in our ear to get up and go somewhere. For those intrepid souls who have negotiated the post-church hazards into spiritual growth, I applaud you. For those about to embark, I applaud you also – you have so much to look forward to. God bless you all.

I spoke to a lady on the plane partway over the Pacific just before Covid. She had cut short her Australian holiday on the insistence of her doctor-son in Canada. He said the Covid thing was bad and going to get worse. She was staggered that I would be choosing to travel to the US in these frightening circumstances.
“What happens if you get the virus and die over here?”
I told her I have left instructions that I was to be cremated and my ashes scattered over El Morro National Monument in New Mexico.
“Why there?” she asked.
“Because it is the place where I had the most profound insight I have ever had, where all the pieces fell into a beautifully coherent whole.”
I take the liberty here of assuming your curiosity is piqued more than hers was, for she picked up her book and said no more. Ashes in the wind.

Flying high and a long way from home. In more ways than one. You see I was a good church man, elder for many years, well regarded, high profile roles, good children – all the attributes of an AAA rating in a system that values appearance-based righteousness.  Now talking about the most profound insight he had ever had, not from the minister but a remote national park on the other side of the world. And cremation to boot.

Leaving the church into which I had been born and raised was also serious stuff. One finds, with considerable disappointment, that some of your friends – even ones with decades of fellowship together – have a different view of friendship. They see it as conditional on your attending church and not challenging the ministers. Break this and the relationship counts for nothing. Or, as in my case, they were instructed to have nothing to do with me as I had become dangerous. Fortunately, some chanced the danger, (and the disobedience) and remain as brothers and sisters – dear as ever.

Within months I found myself on a work party building a health clinic in the highlands of Papua New Guinea, one of the most lawless and ungovernable places on the planet. A place where God chose to answer my questions, on location and so convincing that all I could do was bow my head and worship. And seek forgiveness for having lived with such a limiting and limited view of God. I worked with Christian men of all denominations, brothers in Christ I never knew existed. Clearly, God was at work everywhere and answering my questions.

Well not quite everywhere. The exclusivist religions in the country, all living in compounds, and limiting their evangelism to brief forays to poach each other’s straying converts, were talking about the harvest being over, now just looking after the remnants, enduring, as they put it, the great falling away. All the while, young families from all over the world, living in remote villages, learning the language in preparation for talking about Jesus. I knew of 265 such couples with children, spread all over the country; living testament to the harvest far from over.

Another revelation came when I noticed how many of those I listened to referred to George MacDonald. A mentor to C.S. Lewis, Scottish theologian, de-frocked by the Church and best known for his book ‘Unspoken Sermons’. I wondered why he was put out of the church, until I read these characteristics of his thought:

(God) … looks impartially upon all people and expends all his divine energy to bring men “home’ to himself. He works first through the agency of Christ … But God speaks as well through the entirety of creation and human experience, as his Spirit is resident in all things. People who are receptive to divine influences are in the process of growing to become full sons of God in will and deed; those who spurn God’s loving intentions are diminishing into spiritual grotesques.

 (MacDonald) … expresses hope for the eventual repentance of all the inhabitants of hell. He held that, inasmuch as God made man out of his own glory (not ex nihilo), the essential self to each man is divine. All unbelievers will one day be afforded opportunity to see both the hideous realities they had made themselves in God’s sight and the true beauty of divine love. The inevitable result of this vision will be repentance and turning to God. Finally, all nations will worship God as the source of righteousness and strength and divine love will triumph in all.

     Elwell. W.A. (Ed) 2001 Evangelical Dictionary of Theology.
Baker Academic. p723

When I first read it, something shifted in my thinking, there was a sense of resolution for long-held doubts, and an embracing of the profound truth in God’s capacity to effect ‘not willing that any would perish’. This shift in thinking was furthered by the variety and calibre of theologians who believe, as MacDonald did that hell is restorative not final nor punitive. The view of hell (Sheol) that was held by the Jews of Jesus’ time was a ‘nebulous state’ of neither reward nor punishment, and a place where resurrection was possible.

The early church held this view up until Constantine, who, with help from Augustine, forever corrupted the beauty and simplicity of practiced Christianity in that unholy mix of church and state. The rest is history. The Reformation, for all its amazing impact on the abuses and corruption of the Church, did little to change the fundamentals of the institutional church, or a doctrine of heaven and hell. Fear of hell was the essential instrument of conversion, which brings me to El Morro.

In 1698 the Spaniards, after the conquering Mexico, continued their search for the fabled ‘cities of gold’. They took with them Franciscan priests, for, in their view, a ‘harvest of souls’ was ready for the sickle. As I contemplated the museum displays, I found myself asking “Baptism or the sword; what sort of conversion was that?” Especially after reading about the priests’ failed efforts in protecting their converts from the massacres that followed a less-than-wholehearted embrace of church and state. The sword was more ready than the sickle.

And a follow-up question, if the Pueblo people were confused, unconvinced and unconverted, that means they go to hell, right? Perhaps not a dangerous question, but God answered it anyway, unmistakably: “They are my children and I have taken them home”. God has them covered, for it is His divine intent to bring all men home to himself. Then it struck me. MacDonald’s view, like that of the early church fathers (some as disciples of the last Apostle) was not just an attractive theological position, it has application in people’s lives.

The idea of restoration of all things shifted from my head to my heart, where it has stayed ever since. Now I embrace a God who in His very essence is love. One who can bring redemption out of the horrors of how men can treat each other – redemption and restoration not judgement and punishment. We are after all, His creation, created for relationship as children with Him. Divine love in triumph over sin and death.

So how do I balance this view with what Jesus said about sheep and goats, right hand and left hand, paradise and punishment, with what He said about ‘drawing all men to himself’ and in the final chapters about the ‘healing of the nations’. And many more. Sufficient to say here, the scriptures can be made to make a case for either position so some other criteria has to used. If a sovereign God could restore all His creation and not let sin and death send more than three quarters of His creation to hell forever, would He? My ‘Yes’ answer is wholehearted, and gives me a sense of ‘pieces coming together’ like nothing I have ever known. Like I said earlier, the most profound insight I have ever had.

I remember, as our travels continued, looking at the ‘Ground Zero’ memorial in New York; the rows of crosses at Gettysburg; the ‘Trail of Tears’ memorials; and even where Robyn’s Great Grandfather came from on the Isle of Mull (Scotland) was a training base for North Atlantic escort crews, many of them among the more than eighty thousand Allied seamen lost at sea. Instead of a sense of despair, a deep gratitude for an understanding of a God who has it covered in His plan for all people.

I have lost friends and many arguments for holding these views. But I have won something worthwhile, the capacity to discard the ‘us-them’ attitude and replace it with a new humility. Where once I had intense feelings of hostility toward Muslims for example, I now see them as part of the ‘every knee shall bow’ scenario. The most strident in-your-face fanatical jihadist, overwhelmed by the glory and majesty of the presence of God, seeing for the first time both the way that they had mis-represented God, and the true beauty of divine love.

For the first time in my life, I can see what sort of view of God is necessary for the Jew, instead of counting the steps under the burden of the Roman soldier’s pack and throwing it into the dust after about two thousand steps, cheerfully offering to go another mile. Or, the first time in my life seeing how Jesus’ extraordinary injunction to ‘love your enemies’ could possibly be fulfilled. A theology that embraces all people as part of God’s creation, one that presents the father and family in relationship despite many being unaware of it. One, moreover, that views judgement as restorative not punitive, changes everything. And, it is a theology that disallows one member of the family saying they are better than another. Or exclude anyone.

While not claiming to be there yet, still part-way over the Pacific so to speak, I am flying high and living in the joy of knowing God as Father, Jesus as friend, and the Holy Spirit as constant companion.

See video: The restoration of  all things – an opinion

I was often asked to give an example of how stories can help a person suffering from depression. The following is made up of actual cases.

‘Roy’ (age 54) is a dry-land farmer north of Ballarat, married with three adult children; son 29, (Architect, Melbourne), daughter 26 (farmer, wife, mother, Riverina NSW), daughter 21 (music therapist, London).  His wife Lorraine (farmer, wife, mother, grandmother) makes contact on husband’s behalf. Saw article in local paper (new business advertorial) and thought it sounded right for Roy. Lengthy phone conversation told me:

• • The HG approach appealed to her ‘at last somebody’s talking sense’.
  • Roy diagnosed by GP ‘seriously depressed’ prescribed anti-depressants, ‘Roy not good at taking medications, says he has but I find too many still in the card’.
  • Some days in bed all day ‘best to keep away’.
  • Some dry years and ‘not much to come and go on’ but own their farm and no debt.
  • Roy doesn’t have any interests or hobbies, just farm work. Goes to clearing sales when he feels like getting about but hasn’t been to any for last year or so.
  • Lorraine cannot think of any trigger. Roy only 10 when his father died, mother in aged care. Has expressed disappointment at his only son not showing any interest in the farm.
  • Makes appointment for Roy, assuring me that he will be keen to see me.

Appointment #1

 As it turned out, he was not keen to see me. Roy has all the characteristics of a man who has worked hard outdoors, slightly stooped, careful of movement, and sparing with words. A ‘Clint Eastwood’ look alike, but one could be sure, Roy is no actor. Authentic, transparent, independent and if one was prone to hackneyed clichés, the ‘backbone of our country’. I had to ask Lorraine to allow Roy and I some time for a chat, referred to a nice coffee place at the end of the street, and she obliged, somewhat reluctantly as she probably thought Roy would not open up and tell me anything. I wasn’t the only one aware that Roy was not so keen.

As well as kelpies, I now have steam trains – both rich in Roy’s past and current lived experience. The session continues, I ride the train a bit more, find his uncle was a father substitute; yes, losing his father was devastating, wonders if he ever really got over it; worked hard all his life; simple family pleasures, can’t remember taking family on holidays; no, nothing in the way of hobbies. Some disappointment his son doesn’t want the farm, but is glad he is making his own way in the city. Enjoys having his grandchildren on the farm, but hasn’t for a year or so (I take special note of this). Roy is clearly pleased at my description of ‘depression’ being a mood scale, not a diagnosis like diabetes. Outlined the therapeutic process: relaxed state, listening to stories, forming pictures in our mind, imagining doing things we love, all with a purpose of moving a little from the sad end of the mood scale toward the happy end. I decide to forgo therapy this session for two reasons: firstly, Roy has to come to the idea of ‘something being done’ himself. He needs to see where it leads and why we are doing it. The ‘blokey chat’ allows for that, and allows him ‘buy-in’. I might add, now seeing me is his choice, for his own reasons, the likelihood of success is higher.

The other reason for postponing therapy is to give me time to work Roy’s metaphors into a story, which I do. It is from this case I outline what I regard as the ‘essentials of creative story telling’.

Let me point out here my objective – to inject hope and optimism to enable Roy to move along the mood scale, period. While the ‘issues’ like loss of his father; son rejecting the farm and farming life; increasing lack of purposeful action (running out of steam), could provide rich mining for psychoanalysis, I have no intention of digging. Roy and I enjoy talking, and I could talk over his son’s carving out his own career, and work through new farming challenges or perhaps start slowing down and travelling – lots of farmers do that. Enjoyable, but little therapeutic benefit. My objective, as I have said, is simple, an injection of hope and optimism at limbic brain level – increasing his repertoire of patterns that influence his view of himself and his environment. Patterns that influence, at a deep emotional level, the nature and extent of his interaction with his environment to get his needs met.

What needs? Well Roy’s Emotional Needs Audit told me very little – too many mid-range scores and no indication of serious unmet needs. Not unusual in men of Roy’s generation (mid fifties) who don’t self-reflect a lot and therefore find it somewhat difficult to self-report on such things. No matter, Roy is not flourishing. Life leaves him feeling ‘flat as anything’, and as his wife told me (unlikely Roy would have ever stated it), sometimes stays in bed all day. I don’t need an audit to tell me that when a person who is not sleeping well at night, chooses to do it all day as well, they lack a sense of meaning and significance. The creation, through stories loaded with metaphors from Roy, of patterns that will expand his view of the world (meaning) and revitalise his view of himself (significance). Patterns that will promote purposeful action, not just for its own sake, but linked to the things that once gave, or will give Roy pleasure. That’s what I call an injection of hope and optimism. 

Appointment #2

Did Floss wonder where you were going this morning? I bet she’ll be glad to see you when you get home.

 I like to use rapport-enhancing themes again if they have worked before, plus, my feeling is that Floss is his closest companion at the moment. After a bit more dog talk, I use the wrist relaxation, and with his hands still in outstretched position:

… just like your motorbike … bouncing over the paddocks … bet you know every bump and ripple … Floss puffing down your neck, tongue hanging out … sheep all glad to see you  … looking out for them … they know they can rely on you.

Sheep knowing what? Are the sheep really glad to see Roy? How do I know if any of this is true? I don’t, and I don’t have to. Right from the start I operate with a mixture of what is likely or possible, and when Roy is deeply relaxed (he is on the way already) I will move to the pure fantasy – that sort of childhood imaginative state that allows for anything to seem possible – a simulated dream state. What I do know is true, is that Roy will follow me; he will feel the bumps, hear the dog puffing, see the sheep, and deep in his sense of who he is, he will appreciate the idea the sheep are glad to see him, and they appreciate his care for them.

Let me digress while I think of it, for it illustrates this very point. Reading Helen Garner’s latest book: Everywhere I look (2016 Text Publishing), she describes her favourite childhood book in vivid detail. It is titled Journey of the stamp animals where the animals depicted on stamps come alive and have all sorts of adventures. Animals coming alive from stamps? Altogether possible for a child, anyone in a dream, and what is more, still ‘real’ for an acclaimed author some six decades after reading it. I believe the successful HG psychotherapist has a highly developed imagination, a childlike sense of wonder, and an astonishing capacity to talk the impossible without limitation or apology. As we shall see, I have to feel this way, for in my story with Roy, both dogs and trains will need to talk.

Roy becomes relaxed easily. I suggest it is like that time after lunch when he takes a ‘quick’ nap in his chair, boots off, warm, full belly, ahh … (notice, I am not worried about whether he usually does this or not, the point is he is doing it now).

Reminds me of a story … a long time ago … probably when we were little kids or maybe before, there was this huge steam loco, six big wheels, and lots of smaller ones and a coal wagon on behind, as well as all the wheat wagons or whatever else it needed to haul across the Wimmera or Mallee plains. His name was ‘Brutus’ not Thomas and he was all shiny black, not bright blue like a child’s toy, Brutus was a serious working mans train. You can see the driver and the fireman shovelling coal into that fiery hole, smell that burning coal, hear the whistle although it wasn’t a whistle at all come to think of it. But everyone knew when they heard it, “the train’s coming” they would shout, and even the kids came out of school to wave at the driver and count the carriages.

Because Brutus was famous, he used to help the younger engines, to show them the ropes so to speak. He had been on all the lines in Victoria, knew them all; every gradient and how much steam was needed for each; every tunnel so filled with black smoke you would nearly choke; every bridge with nothing on each side but a huge drop down to the creek below. There was one young engine that was alongside Brutus most of the time, in fact in the early days when the loads were so big they needed two engines, they worked together. Brutus knew that one day this younger engine would take over from him and keep the wagons moving – wheat, sheep or whatever needed to be loaded and taken to the markets in the city.

 Then one day, nobody remembers just when, but this younger engine was gone on another line altogether and Brutus was upset, more than upset, it was like a death in the family. ‘City bound’ is what the drivers and firemen said, and Brutus realised that he would only see his younger companion occasionally. Instead of working together on the wheat and sheep loads, their lines would only pass each other now and then.

 Brutus said he had enough to keep him busy, but really he never got over the sense of a great plan coming apart. Although he knew they would never pull alongside each other again, Brutus kept wanting it to happen, and after a long time it wore him down. He first noticed it in the mornings, loads of wheat or sheep waiting for him, and Brutus with hardly enough fire to get moving, let alone smoke and whistles. The driver and fireman who had been attached to Brutus nearly all his life said they understood, but really they didn’t. Sometimes people came and looked, and probed, and talked, and asked questions that Brutus couldn’t answer.

 Then one day, on that long slow incline out of Maryborough, with a long load of canvas covered wheat trucks, Brutus slowed to a crawl. “I’ve run out of steam” he said, his huge steel wheels hardly turning. Even though the driver and fireman work shovelling for all they were worth, Brutus could hardly move. It was like the end of the line, and his big fear was letting go and rolling down the incline out of control. It was awful, you can still feel it, wanting to get moving, the power of steam driving those huge steel wheels and getting the wheat on its way, but nothing. Just this flat feeling of barely hanging on.

 Then, Brutus noticed something. A small boy had come aboard, he was walking along the side of the boiler careful to not touch the hot black metal. Nobody knows where he came from, or how he came to be there, he just was. My mum would call him a ‘little urchin’ but they don’t much use that term now, but in any case he seemed to know what he was doing. He was inspecting Brutus, just slowly going from fitting to fitting, part to part, no talking, no poking and best of all no questions. Slowly his looking over every part led him to the drivers cabin, and in he goes, no knocking or asking, just straight in if you please. The driver and fireman were too busy shovelling to take much notice, and too tired to care if they did. The coal in the bunker was a long way back for they had been shovelling for along time. The little boy saw what was needed and in a knowing sort of way, climbed onto the coal heap, and sat up on  the top edge, where he kicked the coal which slithered in black bunkering heaps down to the floor where the men could easily shovel it without reaching.

 “Keep it up … keep it up … we’ll be moving soon” Brutus could hear the men encouraging the lad, and the lad did keep it up. The feeling of these people working together gave Brutus new heart. He could feel the effect of all the shovelling, of the head of steam building like it used to do, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, he felt like moving, and he could. The steam was powerful, and the wheels were getting the effect of it, and the load of wheat was cheering Brutus on. Nobody likes running out of steam, being stuck on an incline, being afraid of rolling backward, so the feeling of moving forward again was wonderful.

 Brutus got his old strength back, no load of wheat or sheep, or anything else that had to be moved was too heavy. With his new strength, he never ran out of steam again, and no hill was too steep. Even when he was asked if he wanted to move to another line, Brutus said no. ‘I am a load hauler” he said with feeling, “not a passenger train” and he was. Wheat and sheep were his life, they depended on him, and knew they were being looked after by someone who cared for them.

 And you ask about the boy, well he shows up every holiday, walks around Brutus without saying much, checking things (although Brutus wonders how much he really knows about big steam locos), and generally being great company. As far as I know it is still all happening just as I told you, for some things just need to be done, and we need people to just get on and do it. People who know they can, because they need to, others are depending on the heavy stuff being done. And they can … and they do.

                                                          (1109 words, approx 9 minutes)

See video: Telling stories – some pointers

Doylestown, Pennsylvania, 1914, two women open a public library. The first two kids registered as borrowers, a girl of 13 and a boy of 7, soon read all the children’s books, so are actively encouraged by the women to move on to more adult-type books on a range of topics. The girl develops an interest in people of different cultures that becomes a passion and influences her life’s work. Anthropologist Margaret Mead, author of 20 books and recipient of honorary doctorate degrees from 28 universities.

The boy lives in poverty. Abandoned as a baby, he is raised by a widow with a child of her own and several other orphaned or abandoned children. The widow earns barely enough money to keep them fed by washing other people’s laundry ten hours a day. To keep a roof over their heads, she works for a real estate man who moves her and the children from shack to shack “to clean them up and make them saleable”. The widow encourages reading, understanding that it may lead the children in her care out of poverty, and take James’ mind off things she cannot provide. The boy reads everything he can, and it does make him a good student for the short time he spends in school. The need to help his mother provide for the eleven children in her care, however, means he is working by the time he is a teenager.

James kept his love of reading despite the long hours of tiring work at fairgrounds, factories, and farms. One kind employer notices the breadth of Jimmy’s knowledge, a learning way beyond his years, and arranges a scholarship exam for him. Jimmy does well, and is accepted into college, and later into the Navy. The war years come and go with Jimmy writing of his experiences. The book wins the Pulitzer Prize, and was later made into the Broadway hit, South Pacific.

For this is the journey that men and women make, to find themselves. If they fail in this, it doesn’t matter much else what they find.

Michener, J. The world is my home: a memoir.
Random House, New York. 1992

Michener, in his early 40’s, made a conscious decision to ‘find’ himself, to put in place a map that would guide his choices for the rest of his life. During the war, he describes being in an overloaded aircraft, attempting to land on a tiny Pacific Island airstrip between huge mountains, at night, in a tropical thunderstorm, the third and final possible attempt before fuel ran out. The pilot succeeds, slumps over the controls, too exhausted to hear the heartfelt applause. Michener is too tense to eat, drink or sleep. Hours later, he walks the airstrip in the darkness from end to end, and in his mind creates a map for the rest of his life. He sees the mountains and the stars above them, and he swore:

I am going to live the rest of my life as if I were a great man. I am going to erase envy and cheap thoughts. I’m going to concentrate my life on the biggest ideals and ideas I can handle. I’m going to associate myself with people who know more than I do. I’m going to tackle objectives of moment.
And in the nearly fifty years since that night, I have steadfastly borne testimony to all my deeply held beliefs.

 Michener, J. The world is my home: a memoir.
Random House, New York. 1992 p264.

Michener’s defining moment on that dark island airstrip has the vital ingredients for life-affirming patterns – sensory rich, it was his own not a copy, and there was no part of him that night that was not fully committed to the image of who he was, what he will no longer be, and what he will do. He would dream that night, and subsequent nights, and the expectation of it being fulfilled was preserved. Those life-affirming patterns kept him on track as a writer, resulting in more than 40 books that collectively sold more than 100 million copies. He was granted 32 honorary doctorates in 5 different disciplines and his cash donations to public libraries and universities exceeded 153 million dollars.

Mind Maps

You will probably be familiar with the term. Google gave me nearly 30 million entries in less than half a second so they are somewhat common. What I present here is a simple map that has proven to be remarkably effective in enabling young people to visualise and record life goals. My version of a mind map is simply a way of representing the direction of our thinking, a ‘target’ sheet, a guide to enable us to focus certain thoughts, and discard others. Essentially allowing an internal capacity for orienting our minds with feedback and correction to stay on course, rather than a random array of influences to steer us all over the place.

I start with a ‘wheel of life’ which prompts thinking about important dimensions of our lived experience. The various dimensions are not fixed, some people write their own depending on what they see as important. Each of these dimensions are presented as a satisfaction scale – ‘how satisfied am I regarding this aspect of my life?’ There is, of course, an implied understanding that a line drawn through each of these points on the scales somewhat resembles a circle – not too many low satisfaction dimensions.

Let me explain three dimensions you may not recognise: peers, buddy, mentor. It is from the work of Schumacher (?) as I remember it from my uni days. (I have not been able to find reference to it since, so probably I have the name wrong). In any case, it was from a large scale research project in the sixties that broke from the usual focus on ‘juvenile delinquency’ (like I said it is the 60’s) to examine the factors consistent in young people who make a straightforward transition from high school, through college and early adulthood. Three factors stood out. Each of the successful young adults had positive ongoing relationships with their peers (not isolates); had a close personal friend of either gender; and benefitted from a close relationship with person representing an adult version of what they held closest to their heart. Not a pin-up poster of a sport or rock star, but someone, usually a relative, who had periodic contact with the young person who played the mentor role.

The ‘wheel of life’ exercise usually stimulated thinking around the various dimensions of their lives, and from these dimensions, the young person would select six or eight to focus on for their mind map. These usually formed a progression of statements from the late teens to adulthood along that theme, with several aspects I classed as essential:

• • • state it in the positive, as if it has already happened
    • keep it sensory rich and specific – see it, hear it, smell it feel it
    • it must be individual – your thing not a copy from elsewhere
    • include lots of detail, colour, photographs.

Here is an example. Take note of the moped in the lower right corner:

Here is the statement from the text box beside it:

I place my helmet on my head and get on my moped. As I start it up I smile as the wind whips the hair out of my eyes. I drive around town, and when I stop to buy lunch, I pack it in the compartment under my seat.
This moped is my pride and joy. As I drive out into the woods, I remember when I was young and how I tried everything to get one. Now I feel like that little girl again.
© Roseleen Lenehan 2006 Used with permission

Now I am not claiming this process guarantees the writer will tour Italy on a moped. But what I can be sure about is that with this map on her bedroom wall as a constant reminder, the sensory-rich descriptions, and her emotional connection to the content, the chances are high. Knowing what we do now about the way patterns are preserved intact in the subconscious, about dreaming discharging unfulfilled expectations and preserving others to maintain emotional integrity and provide an internal guidance system, we can be sure the map becomes more than colour on paper.

Let me give you another example. One of my students prepared a great mind map. On it was his objective to be a doctor; pictures of him in his surgery, degrees on the wall, rich in sensory language all very real. Later in the year, all the students organise their work experience, and this boy, not surprisingly, wants to do his with a doctor. Not any doctor, but a surgeon. He was told it was out of the question. The hospital could take him in the garden, the kitchen, the maintenance team, but nothing like what he wanted. Everything the boy heard was steering him away from his target, so he made an appointment with a surgeon, took his mind map and showed him. The boy’s commitment and explanation of self-image impressed the surgeon, so he agreed on the condition that if the patient did not consent, he had to absent himself. No patient made that call so the boy became the surgeon’s shadow for a week, with patients, hospital rounds and in the operating theatre. He even observed a caesarean birth.

Some time later his mother told me he had bought a stethoscope on e-bay. “He wears it around the house, he finds it hard to watch TV now, the stethoscope won’t let him!” “It directs him to his study desk instead” she said. I said I would love a photo and soon after my inbox had a message with ‘The importance of symbolism’ in the subject line:

Not only symbolism, but the mental exercise of already being a doctor. I think you will feel as I do that his subconscious contained an expectation seeking fulfilment in the environment. Not only that, but he has a pattern, a neural element/self-image that he is emotionally committed to, a pattern that during his dream state will be preserved, and next morning his target will still be intact. Oh, you ask about the photo:

© Joshua Saunders 2005 Used with permission

He sent me a message recently to say that on a busy shift at Monash he lost his stethoscope, and remembered the one he kept in his drawer, the ebay one.  “It had come the full circle” he said. Joshua is now a GP at a busy medical clinic in rural Victoria.

There are many ways to explain how a girl becomes an activist and anthropologist; a boy raised in poverty becomes a writer and philanthropist; and a schoolboy with a stethoscope becomes a doctor. I am not suggesting reading books, making a life plan after a near-death incident, or preparing a mind map as I have described, brings in its wake a life of remarkable good-fortune. Nor am I proposing that a mantra such as: Where the attention goes, the energy flows, will create a future of health, wealth and happiness.

What I am suggesting, is that, if we make sense of everything we see, hear, taste, smell and feel by matching it with a neural element (pattern) already on file, and we have some understanding of how these patterns are formed and preserved, then it follows that any process that adds life-enhancing ones to the repertoire, is worth consideration.

Some years ago a young Native American athlete stood on a fifth-floor motel balcony in California intending to jump to his death. Earlier that day he had been asked to stand aside when a photo was taken of his fellow all-American athletes. For this young man it was the ultimate symbol of rejection and alienation. He did not belong in the only country he had ever known, among the people he was as good as, or better.

He was eight years old when his mother died of cancer. His father told him at the time that his grieving for his mother was like a bird with a broken wing, and to look deep into his heart beyond the hurt and loss to his dream, for dreams are the only way for him to fly again – to fly like an eagle. His father died of a stroke four years later.

On the balcony that day, he wondered what it would be like to fly, and his father’s words came back to him. He didn’t jump. Instead he continued to pursue his dream, and a few years later at the Tokyo Olympics, Billy Mills became the first and only American to ever to win the 10,000 meter event.

Some months before the Beijing Olympics in 2008, Mills spoke of those dramatic minutes in Tokyo that would change his life forever. In his words he was ‘well and truly boxed in’; surrounded by other runners in the last lap when he felt the urge not to run, but to fly. Miraculously, one runner made way for him to get free into the outside lanes. It was his chance, and as he took it, he glanced back to the runner who had made room for him – a German with an insignia emblazoned on his running shirt: an eagle. Mills remembered his father’s words that in pursuing his dream he would fly again, and flew he did. A movie made of his life shows a runner freeing himself from the pack and making the other runners look like they had all slowed up; one of the most dramatic and unlikely finishes of all time.

I am not sure if you have heard the name Robyn Fahy, or more correctly Lieutenant-Commander Robyn Fahy Royal Australian Navy. Robyn was the first woman to attend ADF Academy and graduated as Dux several years later. Her outstanding professional career continued with her becoming the first woman to command a RN vessel, and later became executive officer in charge of Australia’s largest operational naval base, HMAS Stirling in Western Australia.

On October 19, 2000, as CEO of the base, Lieutenant-Commander Fahy hosted a dinner for then chief of navy, Vice-Admiral David Shackleton, not realizing that earlier that day a psychiatrist had written she was bipolar, manic, and should be hospitalised and sedated. Lieutenant-Commander Fahy was ordered to leave the base the next day. In the years since, Robyn has set out to defend her reputation, in what is on paper an unfair dismissal case, but what became a disturbing, labyrinthine trial of the culture of the Australian military. In her training at ADFA, Robyn was continually verbally, physically and sexually abused, her examination results tampered with, she was spat upon on parade, and during the subsequent legal challenges, treated with contempt by those defending the ‘boy’s club’ culture of the military. Her case was settled out of court after more than six years for an undisclosed sum reported to be Australia’s largest payout.

You are entitled to ask why tell this story, so let me explain. I think a better question is: What enabled Robyn Fahy to struggle against such overwhelming odds and unrelenting opposition to her succeeding? Remember, we are discussing the role of metaphor, and this case sheds some light on it. Robyn’s father was a diplomat stationed in Belgium during her growing up years. Robyn’s mother told of how two elderly neighbours used to tell of their efforts during the war years, to contact, hide and transfer Allied airmen out of occupied Belgium and back to the UK. Stories of intrigue, of cunning, of perseverance, courage and enormous risk. Stories with a common theme: a deep seated belief that these women would not let the enemy beat them. Robyn sat on their knees engrossed. I suggest that these brave women, by their stories were embedding patterns in young Robyn’s mind – patterns by which she made sense of her world and her part in it. Patterns that defined who she was, and enabled her to fight her own enemies with that same theme: not letting the enemy beat her.

Some years ago in western NSW, the president of a regional Law Society was fare welling a retiring member. He said that if one was looking for a lawyer that would ‘go for the jugular’ and not let go, there are several members that come to mind, but our colleague here is not one of them. If however you were in deep trouble and your only chance was advocacy of the highest order, this man has no equal.

When I heard about it I was intrigued, for I went to tech school with this man, and I happened to know that he left his job as a mechanic and his passion for cars and motorbikes and went to work in a law office. Such things do not go unnoticed in country towns, and country towns being as they are, one was able to follow the lengthy transition from mechanic to lawyer. And lengthy it was – twenty one years of correspondence study fitted around full-time work and raising a young family – before he was finally admitted to the Bar of NSW as a barrister.

As is a habit of mine, I asked him about what kept him on track for so long, how come he didn’t give up, and was there a story, event or person that inspired him, helped him set this goal and stay committed for so long. Without hesitation he replied “Remember when we studied To Kill a Mockingbird at school – I’m Atticus Finch”. The similarity is striking, for this tall self-effacing lawyer provided the only legal service over a wide area of western NSW. He told me he didn’t win many cases “because I didn’t have many innocent people, but I made a lot of friends and kept a lot of people out of jail”.

I know all this, you see, because he is my brother, and I am very proud of him. In fact we all were, the whole family, Dad, Mum, and us four kids went to Martin Place in Sydney the day he was admitted to the bar. It was a big deal for us. But the real reason I am so proud of him, is because there are many, possibly hundreds, of indigenous people in that area that did not die in custody because they had an Atticus Finch.

An athlete, an officer, and a gentleman – what do these stories tell us? Well, I think it better if we move from the people to explore the internal guidance system that played a major role in how these people stayed on track and achieved their goals. As you may know, I spent more than three decades with young people, many of them having not found the school experience in any way fulfilling. Yes, I have known ‘all types’, whatever that may mean. I have known some young people so internally guided that they were like a train on rails; and some, derailed and lunging out of control from one major crisis to the next. The former guided by a set of life-affirming patterns, and the latter making sense of their world with the only ones they have. Patterns that gives them a sense of acceptance and a view of the world in which ‘shit happens’; deal with it and move on. I would suggest the athlete, the officer and the gentleman had a personal metaphor that helped them make what happens, rather than deal with what happens.

The idea of a ‘life affirming pattern’ or ‘personal metaphor’ is not new. With the publication in 1960 of Maxwell Maltz’s seminal work: Psycho-cybernetics, came the idea of a ‘self image’. Maltz was a plastic surgeon. His life centered around giving people a good image of themselves in the mirror. He was at a loss to explain why a number of his patients could not recognize a difference between before and after their operation, even if disfiguring scars or other malformations had been removed. Maltz suggested our perception of ourselves came from a ‘self-image’:

… a mental blueprint of ourselves … our own conception of the ‘sort of person I am’ … formed from our past experiences, our humiliations, our triumphs, and the way other people have reacted to us, especially in early childhood.
Maltz, M. Psycho-cybernetics. Simon & Shuster New York, 1960.

The self-image, in Maltz’s view, is life determining. All action, feelings, behaviour, even abilities are consistent with this self-image and one cannot act in any way inconsistent to it regardless of effort or desire. Another important factor is that the self-image is value-neutral; it does not care if it is empowering or destructive. Although Maltz recognised the ‘malleability’ of the self-image, and proposed that the brain is poor at telling the difference between actual experience and that imagined in vivid detail, his change strategies were essentially ‘thinking based’; experimenting with positive images of success. The problem, as many self-help devotees came to see, was how one makes these images stick. If there is one thing fundamental to each of the stories above, it is that the images or metaphors had stuck.

With our understanding of patterns and the brain as a pattern-matching organ, it is possible to see Maltz’s ‘self-image’ as a repertoire of patterns that define us, through which we make sense of our environment and shape our interaction with it. You would all be familiar with the brain as a pattern matching organ, and the role of patterns in our feeling, thinking, and behaving. In addition to innate patterns, we have ones learned during infancy and childhood – indeed any period of life; patterns that become our self-image, our internal guidance system that orients us at a very deep level of thinking.

Patterns influence the choices we make in relation to life events and our perception of them. At a pre-conscious level we are set up to be attracted toward, or driven away from, situations on offer in accordance with an image of ourselves and in response to our internal guidance system. I am suggesting these learned patterns have an emotional component – a preparation for action with an expectation that the action will meet a need. However, this emotional component is not a general preparation for action that, if not acted upon, will be metaphorically discharged during REM sleep, but related to a specific series of long term emotionally charged patterns.

Probably because of the way these patterns are embedded in the brain, they are preserved in the same way that other vital patterns – the control of body temperature for example – are preserved. They become, in effect, an essential part of who we are – the athlete runs, the officer perseveres, the gentleman keeps studying – each true to a metaphor that makes derailment unlikely. Each night they dream, something related to his father’s comforting words in the athlete’s deepest emotional grief; some part of the Belgian sisters’ stories of resistance to a girl in trance; the story of a small-town lawyer’s astounding integrity studied by a young man; is preserved intact.

In summary, the function of REM sleep, as we have seen, is to discharge unfulfilled emotional expectations (thus freeing up processing capacity) and to preserve innate (or embedded) patterns related to our physical survival and psychological well-being. Griffin’s explanation of why humans dream sheds new light on the function of REM sleep, and Edmunds’ proposition (discussed with Griffin) tells us something of the brain’s remarkable capacity to distinguish between material destined for the mental-housekeeping dustbin, and material placed carefully in safe keeping for ready reference.

Our task, as psychotherapists, is to help those we work with, to find the metaphor that enables them to flourish – to win gold, to stand tall no matter what, and to remain true to the image of themselves that works for them.

Note: this article is another in a series answering the question: “What would it look like if these ideas took off in our community?” It is written as though it has already taken place (even though it hasn’t) to provide working examples of what is possible. While it is fiction, it is based on what has been done in similar circumstances and it is the writer’s belief that the story is entirely possible. A group of young people are preparing to travel to South Dakota in the US to present their unique film and dance routine. They have been invited by the Lakota First Nations people of the Cheyenne River Reservation in the belief that the film will have a similar influence on improved life experiences for people living in remote and socially marginalized communities. The young people have just completed a tour of six remote communities in Arnhem Land, and on their return, they will lead workshops for other First Nations young people being held at facilities in Batchelor and Katherine.

Shanika Daniels has been involved in the project from its beginning in 2023. Her uncle had been released from prison and then he participated in a special program that turned his life around. “He was a wild man and the grog made him violent, but after this program you wouldn’t know it was the same fella” Shanika told us. “Not long after they ran a similar program for women and they came back to the mob all fired up to shake the place up”. “Real movers and shakers they were, and while some people got their backs up, most of us younger kids knew it was for real” she said.

The young people approached the same organisation that ran the special program to see if a similar one was possible for them, many of whom were not working. An event was set up and was attended by nearly a hundred including many from neighbouring communities. What made the program unique was the central focus on storytelling, a vital way for people, especially indigenous people, to make sense of themselves and their world. The ideas are based on a new approach to emotional health and clear thinking from the UK. Instead of an emphasis on job-readiness and work skills, the young people were exposed to many of the stories the adults had heard, ones dealing with meaning and purpose, addictions, abuse and suicide.

In addition to the stories, they heard from indigenous sportspeople, filmmakers, dancers, writers and musicians, who each helped inspire Shanika and her friends. “It was like a whole new world opening up … one full of possibilities”. “It was exciting and we all knew we had to do something with it” she said. What they did is remarkable. A sound and light show with music, dance and film, including special effects and animation. Acclaimed as a ‘world first’, it is destined to go far and wide, including America. Shanika described the early days: “It took a while to get started, but once it got going and more people became involved it just took off. It has been one hell of a ride!” A ride that is just beginning, it seems.

A group of our young people from East Arnhem Land are off to see the bright city lights of the USA next month. We speak to Shanika and Dan this morning about how this all came about, Welcome.

Thanks for having us

Host         Perhaps you could tell us what has sparked such an interest that you get an invitation and funding to travel to the US.

Shanika    Well we have been working on a film and dance routine for a couple of years now to try and help remote communities work their way out of the problems of boredom, abuse, grog, porn and drugs. We have taken it to six communities in the Top End and everyone is pretty happy about it. It has been an amazing reaction, and it looks like we have finally hit on something that works.

Host         Well done! I read that it was the change in your uncle that sparked these changes. Can you tell us about that?

Shanika    Yes he came back a different fella, we couldn’t believe it. Mainly because he has been in jail a lot and had lots of counselling but it never made any difference. Mob were saying we need more of that, whatever ‘that’ is.

Host         Do you know what changed him?  

Shanika    Sort of. They call it ‘culturally sensitive therapeutic storytelling’. Like the way our old people used to do it. All sitting around relaxed and thinking in pictures, a bit like dreaming because birds and animals come alive and talk, often with ancient wisdom. It certainly is the key to making a difference, and it is what we have done in our routine.

Host         I’m curious. What sort of stories?      

Shanika    We have a set of stories each dealing with a specific issue like gambling, addiction, abuse or suicide for example. Stories that, if I read one out to you it wouldn’t have much effect. But if you were in a circle with your friends, after a good feed just relaxed and yarning, concentrating on nothing but the smell of trees and your breathing, the story comes alive. They say it has an effect on a different part of our brain, the deeper emotional part.

Host         This is so interesting. How do you present those stories in the film and dance show?

Dan           The first thing we do is set up an environment so people can really listen, not just be there to be entertained. Music helps, then the different stories are played out, a film on a big curved screen, some animation but most filmed around the Top End, then with special lighting effects we have indigenous dancers playing out the storyline. Most of it traditional dance style but also some rap.

Host         Yes, I have seen the YouTube video that has gone viral. It looks amazing. Do you plan to produce some more videos?

Dan           No we don’t. We were unhappy about that video because it is not meant to be shown just like a movie, that’s missing the point of it. What we do is an immersive experience because we are about bringing our people out of the hopelessness; helping those who have lost their way toward being a proud people again with dignity and purpose. If you just entertain people that doesn’t happen.

Shanika    The video did get us noticed though. That’s how we got the invite from the Lakota people, they have similar issues in their communities.

Host         Simply amazing! Could you tell us how you got the show together. I mean filmmakers and dance instructors are few and far between where you live?

Shanika    I did two years of filmmaking after I left boarding school, so I had some idea, but the big push came when the team of professionals did workshops with us. It was like they gave us a map of what is possible, and of course they inspired us to reach for the stars so to speak.

Dan           And they kept in touch with us, and also put us in touch with a lot of other people who managed to get a lot of equipment that we needed, mainly for film and lighting, but also sound. We could never afford what organisations gave us or what big companies paid for.

Host        But that sort of support doesn’t just come along because you have a good idea or a good friend in the industry; what else were they impressed by to be so supportive?

Shanika    We really pushed the storytelling idea, and the new insights that explain its value. Also we talked about what changes it had brought about for individuals and our communities. That got their attention because it is not every day you get a success story like that.

Dan           And we knew pretty much what we wanted to produce. We had a vision that included special effects in film and lighting. It was unique and essentially our vision – an indigenous vision for change that we knew was possible. Providing we kept it ours. That’s why we are not happy about the pressure on us to take the show to the cities. We think it doesn’t belong there, it is for our people. Fortunately, most of the big companies respect that.

Host         And after your time in the US you plan to hold workshops here for other First Nations young people, tell us about that.

Shanika    The time with the Lakota people will help us refine the sharing of the ideas so others can do similar things. While the core is universal, meaning it doesn’t matter about race, gender or culture, the location needs to be one the people can relate to. When we were at Nhulunbuy, for example, we realised there is no coastal or ocean themes in our show and that made it specific to our location, not theirs. The workshops will enable young people to use our model but set it locally.

Host         There must have been a lot of organising to get the show on the road. Can you tell us how you handled that?

Dan           The simple answer is ‘Grey Nomads’. We couldn’t have got where we are without them. In the early stages it was suggested we contact their central information hub with what we could offer and what expertise we were looking for. We were nearly overwhelmed with their offers, it was like we had lifted the lid on a deep well of resources.

Host         What did you offer them?

Dan           The opportunity to travel and be in remote indigenous communities where they otherwise couldn’t be. And, what we didn’t know at the time, the thing they wanted most after all this ‘voice’ stuff was the chance to do something practical for First Nations people.

Shanika    And without exception, they could not have done more for us. You see they have a lifetime of skills in a whole host of areas – farming, business, education, law, and even medicine. They have their self-contained accommodation and transport sorted, and while they have a reputation for being tight with their money, they were so generous and supportive with us.

Host         That’s amazing! What sort of things did they do for you?

Shanika    Early on we used a group already running the information hub to look after the selection of people with skills in film, dance, sound, and lighting equipment, and give them plenty of time to be ready when we needed them. Then another team of nomads looked after the special screen, its design, manufacture, and to travel with us because it had to be assembled and taken down in each place. The largest group of nomads provided food and accommodation for the entire cast so we don’t have to worry about that in isolated communities.

Dan           One guy is a legend. He and his wife used to run an electrical business and they took on the power supply for everything – the generator, the switch panels, fuses, leads, the lot. And a back-up as well. Pity help anyone who messes with it, they will have his wife to deal with. They have lots of connections in the industry, and she put the word on them to help pay for stuff. They are coming with us to America, with some of their gear.

Shanika    Several others are coming with us too. They are hiring big motorhomes for our time there, that takes care of our land transport, food and accommodation. We think what we are doing gives them something to focus on, something that they need to stay relevant and needed. They treat us as family and we know how much this all means to them.

Host         I am so impressed; this is such an amazing story. Is there anything to add, anything you would like to say to listeners?

Shanika    I mean we are getting all the attention, but there are so many people behind us that share our passion, and have such a commitment to see it spread to other communities. I thank them all. But perhaps the special thanks goes to Veronica Williams and her company, Building Indigenous Capability in Katherine, because it was her courage to take on domestic violence with new ideas of what could really make a difference. It has paid off, for the central ideas in what we are offering to communities come from her original vision.

Dan           Yeah, thanks everyone. We are so glad you saw something in what we wanted to do, and were prepared to came alongside us and make it happen. We hope we make you proud.