Mentalist method for mental health

​I’m a bit of a fan of the TV show The Mentalist, and particularly the main character Patrick Jane. (If you’ve not seen the show, he’s the current face of ANZ bank.)

As a character, Patrick has Sherlock Holmes-like abilities of observation and deduction. As impressive as that is, still more impressive is his supreme sense of self.

Patrick Jane is his own man. He is comfortable with his quirks, in having has his own thoughts, and even in the face of opposition, mistrust and outright hostility, can keep a steady course.

I find that attractive, probably because I find it so hard. My life is filled with people who don’t just want a piece of me, they want me to become a piece of them. They want me to be like them, agree with them, think like them, act like them, vote like they vote, appreciate the same music, have the same taste in food, like the movies they like. Does that sound familiar? Mostly it’s just what it means to live closely with others. It’s not a bad thing. It’s not that people are malicious about it. Of course the truth is we all do this to others as well. It’s more than slightly offensive when someone thinks we have poor taste in clothes, or that the music we like is stupid.

If, like me, you’re tired of needing everyone else’s approval to be happy, and if you’re tired of needing everyone else to match up to your tastes and expectations, I have a suggestion for us all. Let’s do what Patrick does. Lie on the couch.

One thing I have noticed in the show is, while everyone else is frantic in their police work, he kicks back on the couch and seems to doze off. What’s he doing? Does he not care? Is he lazy? Shouldn’t he be helping?

Most of our frantic activity is fear and anxiety driven. Panic, anxiety and fear are no friends of ours. They are very loud voices with very little to offer. Running around like a headless chicken might satisfy (for a while) the loud voice of fear that screams, “run, fight!” but it achieves nothing but weariness.

In our over-frantic world, we need to learn the secret of strategic withdrawal; the counter-intuitive habit of stopping the activity just when things look their most desperate.

In only a few weeks’ time this will be very important advice. Christmas is coming, and if past experience is anything to go by the pressure to have the perfect experience, buy the perfect presents, satisfy the demands of family who all want you to spend time with them, can be oppressive.

We can’t avoid these pressures; they’re a part of life. But we can navigate them with clarity and poise...if we’re brave enough to make time for ourselves: to clear our head, smell the roses, drink a cup of tea on the porch – whatever it takes to get yourself back!

Peace

Philip