where were we?

OK, that break went rather long. But we’re ready to go again, although in a slightly amended form. The focus is going to shift – each week we’ll feature a long-form conversation with someone who in someway operates in the territory of mental health (and we use that term loosely). So whether that’s an artist, illustrator, architect, or a therapist, psychologist, or academic, we’ll be talking to a range of cultural and therapeutic practitioners who can help us figure out how to live life well, wherever we personally fall on that spectrum.

We’re trying to change the narrative, language and experience of having and maintaining a life practice (whether that alludes to wellness, happiness, or positive psychology). And we're hoping to speak to those people who are already doing much of this work, even if they themselves don’t position themselves that way or acknowledge this specific engagement. Some people come at the issue directly, spending their lives trying to help, and sometimes heal, people; others are just doing what they are doing, and almost tangentially creating environments or contexts that enable us to think about how culture can impact individual experiences, and maybe just make them better.

We hope you enjoy the series, as much as we've enjoyed pulling it together.

the point

There are some days when all you can think is ‘what’s the point?’ Another phone call home: mum’s not doing so well and dad is troubled, torn and, oh so tired. My brother starts again to make doctor’s appointments and calls to advice lines, pulling people and information together, trying to get through the current crisis.

And so we start the cycle again. But what needs to be different this time? What approach is going to work? What can we do to make this better?

Is it us not getting it ‘right’, not negotiating systems and expectations in an efficient way? Is it her – not showing up for appointments, not taking medications, refusing treatment and support? Is it them, not getting it, not seeing the urgency, the isolation, the frustration? Is it the situation, that is unrecoverable, regardless of all of the above?

But you do go on, and repeat, because when someone you love is struggling, how can you not? You try, again, to reach for the right words, to send encouragement, to say ‘it will be ok’ with meaning and without evidence. Another appointment, another attempt with doctors and drugs, another try at asking for help.

Because maybe this time when you do circle around, you might just find that something has shifted in the system, that an aspect that was unnoticed and overlooked becomes a solution, that the players involved themselves have changed and are more willing, receptive, and able.

And that perhaps is the point: it’s not going to be the same as last time. It can’t be. And that’s a good thing. With this cycle something might be different. It just might. 

picturing joe's daughter

We're excited. Joe’s Daughter is now on Pinterest. Here’s a rundown of our first boards:

One of my guilty pleasures is aphorisms – those quotes that might make you think, or laugh, or pause. Some leave me cold, and many are just naff, if I can still use that word over 30. But look at those from Dear Blank Please Blank, which are playful while coming from some uncomfortable places, or others from Inkhelp, where a portion of the sales benefit charities, and aphorisms can become something else.

There’s also the beginning of our library: I rarely laugh out loud at books but I did with Jenny Lawson’s Let’s Pretend It Never Happened. ​ And Elyn Sak’s memoir The Center Cannot Hold had me questioning again and again how we as a society treat, and view, mental illness.

And finally, for our third board, we’ve pinned a few of those sources that we look to beyond psychology: art and culture, food and community. These are the things--people-centered, design-minded, and socially conscious--that form the framework for Joe’s Daughter.

​Come visit... We'd love to see you. 

Joe's Daughter on Pinterest