Postcard from Tobago

But it is a beautiful, laid back island, only about 7 miles long and seven miles wide with the oldest Natural Rainforest Reserve in the world, dating back to 1765. Mental health’s looking good from the other side of the world!

We had a lovely walk into the rainforest, and it was raining…we saw a variety of birdlife, from exotic hummingbirds such as the rufus crested hermit, to nestlings of the yellow legged thrush, and the cry of the Great Black Hawk skimming the 30m high canopy.

It was a great opportunity to write, and I dipped in and out of the everyday experiences which, apart from enjoyable island tours, consisted of a relaxing time on the beach, near the restaurant (and importantly the bar!)

The few words I’ve included here may not be great poetry, they are short extracts from my notebook, but hopefully will give you some flavour of the place, if you’ve not already been there.

***
Is that a frigate bird
with its long thin wings
suspended, out at sea
like some daylight vampire?

***
Apart from the rainforest it even had the cheek to rain on the beach a little in the first few days.

***
And rain, the sweet, subtle insolence
of it, here in the Caribbean
driving us in from the beach
to the corner of the ‘No Problem’ bar.

***
Naturally, the sea dominated the day. We were on the Atlantic side of the island which, unusually, was calmer than the Caribbean side when we were there. Of course, looking out to sea, you get to thinking of the many thousands of miles of water connected all around the globe.

***
The bay cradling itself in the rising tide
the rock’s liquid echo at the breaking sea
receding into night, night rising into day.

The waves shaped by the contours of the beach
kissing as they rise and fold into each other.

This terrible beauty playing with all the bays,
inlets and waterways, fingering their contours
and vulnerable surfaces, their unique
experience, the shapes of coves, their rhythm
and pulse subtly and hugely different from bay to bay.

And there is nothing, nothing
that matters more
than the hush, the deep hush
of the very deep sea
collapsing on the shore.

***
And I thought of what it means to fall into psychosis (as you do), and how this might be represented by the sea, the psyche of the sea. I’m working on this to form part of a larger poem, ‘Falling for Psychosis’.

And, after all of it is over, there is nothing but black
the slick, oil black of her belly, the steel black
of her eye, the black gloss of her hair,
the evacuated boundless black of a collapsed star
a black, lightless black hole, burrowing
between universes, dragging everything in.

***
Putting the Dark Side aside, it was a fabulously restful time, a trip I’d like to repeat, great to take time out, and we all know how good a holiday can be. 

Then a few days after my return, I met up with Mark Allard who’d invited me to share my thoughts on my book, Fast Train Approaching… and on stigma in the changing world. He’s working on a brief documentary for SKY’s Community channel. 

He asked me about Fast Train Approaching… about stigma, about my work with companies and mental health issues.

It was an interesting and enjoyable interview, a chance to talk through my experience of breakdown and, hopefully, also to plug the Edinburgh Festival Fringe event where I’ll be performing in August with singer/songwriter, Steve Antoni.

As ever, for more background visit www.makingconnectionsmatter.org