MY life’s a bit like riding a bicycle: once you’ve learned you never forget. On Saturday I attended a training group and part of our trading day involved looking at therapeutic alternatives for mental health. The training explored group work and the importance of groups and being connected. We had to tell of a story that demonstrated the need for and the power of group work.
My story was about a group that I started away back in the early nineties when I worked in a visionary mental health therapeutic community. I was studying community care at the time and one evening when I was sitting in the lounge of the therapeutic community, writing up an essay on community care, I found myself looking for inspiration in a poetry book for a few lines to write into my essay.
The poetry book that I held in my hand was the poetry of WB Yeats and the poem that I was going to use was 'He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven'. As I sat on the couch writing, a member of the community asked me what the book was that I was reading. I told him what it was and another member of the group asked me if I read poetry and another asked me if I would read the poem.
I was both touched and moved how I noticed the psychic shift within me, and it brought to mind what the poetry group must have experienced with the poems all those years ago.
To be honest I was embarrassed as I have never read a poem out loud to a group before. Anyway, I gritted my teeth, took the bull by the horns and read the poem. The group applauded me and ask for me to read another, and another. I couldn’t believe how this group of ten people were so tuned into the poetry of Yeats.
The group asked me on my next shift if I would read some more poems, these requests continued for a few weeks and then one week I suggested that we start a poetry project. The group agreed and that group met for years, once a week for ninety minutes. The group itself began to write their own poetry about their thoughts and feelings and they wrote about their experiences of being detained or, as they described it, locked up in hospital. I personally became aware of the potency of poetry and how liberating a poem can be for people.
At that time I used to visit a Franciscan priest called Brother Salvador who was a mentor to me at that time and I discussed with him what was happening with the poetry group – how it appeared to me that poetry was transformative. Brother Salvador replied: "Poetry is the music of the soul”. I found as weeks went by that Salvador’s words were true; poetry is the music of the soul that brings about what could be described as a psychic change.
Back to the here and now and sitting in a room on Saturday with a group of other people and a pianist and singer who was going to teach us as a group to sing a song together. We warmed up and as we loosened up as we prepared to sing a liberating song called 'Stand Up'. I could not believe how my confidence grew within that group of relative strangers as we sang together over and over until we found ourselves in harmony. I was both touched and moved how I noticed the psychic shift within me, and it brought to mind what the poetry group must have experienced with the poems all those years ago.
Here are the words of the song that we sang:
That’s when I’m gonna stand up,
Take my people with me.
Together we are going
To a brand new home,
Far across the river.
Can you hear freedom calling?
Calling me to answer,
Gonna keep on keeping on.
