So after my little trip to Burning Man, New Zealand and Cape Town I've come back to London. Don't worry - I'm whipping myself with guilt how lucky I am to have gotten that kind of gig. I worked in two out of the three. In Burning Man, I didn't perform, just fell twelve feet off an installation of a giant boot and ripped the ligaments in my thumb and am still wearing a brace - but it was worth it. Now I'm sitting in a taxi, in the grey hideous rain-dripping ride home from the airport and thinking, "Why?" My reason for 'why' I'm back here is (besides my family and friends and dare I say cat, Sox) I start my tour of Sane New World" again for about twenty dates (google where the show is, I have no idea) and then in the West End at the end of January at the Arts Theatre (I know where that is).

I've toured this show for two years sometimes I ask myself "why am I milking this baby around the UK till it runs dry?" My answer is that in the second half of the show, after the interval, the audience have a chance to talk and for me it's my happiest moment, to be able to connect with my people; my tribe. Most of my life I've felt so freakish and alone but this reaffirms that under our well-armoured fronts, we're pretty much the same (different hair-dos), We all want to be heard, we want some answers and we want to feel connected. In every theatre, wherever I've taken this show, the discussion only ends because we need to shut down the theatre otherwise we'd be there all night. I go out to sign books afterwards so we can go on talking. I love when people talk to me as long as they're honest and cut the small talk. So that's what gets me out of the house, on the train and 'out of Africa' (see Meryl Streep). Just before the West End, my new book comes out and then I'll tour the new show in spring but I'll always, I mean always, want to have the second half where the audience talk to each other and me. We don't have walk-in centres yet so it's the next best thing even though weirdly it happens to be in a theatre. People ask me if I miss what I used to do? I say, if they mean being the champion canoeist at Camp Agawak because that's something I used to do? Or do they mean when I played a bee in my nursery school play because that's also what I did? How far back do people want you to go? I think everything I did was to get me ready for what I'm doing now. This is the payoff and the payback.



​By the way, this is a photo of the boot I fell off at Burning Man. There was a steel vine coming out of the top to get down. I put my foot on the first metal leaf and that was my last leaf. I then took off into the air and fell. People crowded around me holding my head thinking I'd landed on it. Someone asked me if I knew my name? I told him my name. Then they asked if I knew what day it was. I got it right. Then they asked how old I was; I lied. When they found Ed they asked him how old I was and he gave a different age. They took me away in an ambulance because then they thought I got it wrong from a concussion.

My new book - A Mindfulness Guide For The Frazzled - will be published in January 2016. Be the first to find out more here. Until then, I'll be back on the road with Sane New World.

I arrived in Stockholm straight from New Zealand so I was still fuelled with Hobbit fever, dazzled by the landscape; the gnarly, spooky eye-blindingly emerald green of it all. I was here to speak at Wisdom Stockholm conference. I said I'd do it because it sounded a lot like TedTalks and that's such a namedropper these days so I went from elves to intellects in once swift leap. Ian McKellen, in a pointy hat was replaced by economic leaders, neuroscientists, tech developers and futurists; I felt sick to my stomach that I would be the weird one out; naked and with no power point to hide behind as usual.

It turns out this conference wasn't the usual beauty contest for the best brains. No, to my delight, each speaker was there to discuss ways in which the economy, global organizations, education, technology and the government could become more conscious, more mindful; the aim being well-being rather than the 'eye on the buck school of greedery'. The theme of the talks seemed to be that we've lost our humanity along the way, not caring who goes down (other people) or what goes down (the planet) in the name of obese profits and global domination (see recent Volkswagen debacle). We need to change the modus operandi to promote a pursuit of happiness rather than burning out for the sake of success. It's us that need to change, then we can worry about the return of the Ice Age (which by the way we've caused). So these people, God bless them, were standing alone up there, on the Stockholm Opera House (humble venue) discussing ways to change the world before the world changes us. And the event was sponsored by Google and if they can encourage this caring, sharing brave new world, we just might be able to not screw the world for the next generation completely.

The first speaker was a woman from the United Nations who spoke about Bhutan being number one on the gross national happiness (GNH) spectrum and what the criteria is for getting there. She told us other countries are now joining in to use this GNH measurement to reflect the success of their country. By the way, Britain isn't doing too well but it's doing far better than my home town; the good ol' U.S.A. Another speaker was an English/Indian monk who did mindfulness sessions for us all. He was a fantastic teacher but not holy, at times hilarious (his mother was in the "Kumars" so he had a show business in his ordained veins). I immediately booked him to come onto my new YouTube channel beginning in November based on my new book (A Mindfulness Guide for the Frazzled) and we'd call our segment, "The Monk and the Mermaid." (Me being the mermaid).
One of my favourites at the conference was an explorer, Johan Ernst Nilson who crossed the Atlantic on a jet ski, walked from the North to the South Pole, moseyed up Everest, kayaked from Europe to Africa. (Obviously airlifted when necessary over land). His speech was about nothing being impossible if you have the desire. As an example of this - he told us while he was kayaking through Europe there were some locks on canals in Holland that weren't working. He wouldn't back down so he figured out how to move forward probably with his theme song "nothing is impossible" playing in his ear. He kayaked the rest of the way through parts of Holland in the sewers instead. But his greatest feat was flying in a motorized boat/raft from Sweden to Africa; check it out on www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_GmhIg75Ho. At one point they sent out fighter planes to find out who or what was in the airspace and reported back it was a boat. Central control didn't think it was a big deal until they said the boat was above them. Johan proved that nothing stops a determined Viking. He's either enlightened or nuts or both but I loved him.

The last night all the speakers were taken into the countryside for a (I guess) 'thanks for talking for free' party. This was my fantasy come true. We walked through a forest lined with candle-lit lanterns to a farmhouse (the red wooden slates with the everything in white interiors). There was a long table set for about 50 with wood burning fires and fantastic looking Swedish men serving home grown food that made your eyes roll back in your head. Nothing makes me happier than eating and listening to original, bright minds at play and to do both at the same time is perfection. I wish this were my life, being fed by beautiful men, in the presence of great minds discussing new and better ways to live and hopefully change the world. I had these type of discussions when I was 18 when I was hopeful and then never again but here's the spark and hopefully some day all this might come to fruition and I can say I was there.

My new book - A Mindfulness Guide For The Frazzled - will be published in January 2016. Be the first to find out more here. Until then, I'll be back on the road with Sane New World. There are still some tickets available.

I get confused when I hear 'mental health day'. It implies that everything is hunky dory on the mental front, that every other day we don't have mental illness (and some of us don't.). It's like saying 10 December is physical health day. Saturday 10 October, is World Mental Health Day.
If you didn't know, it's a day of campaigning designed as, thank God, a wake up call for national and local governments - asking them to pull out their finger and do something about this problem that by 2020 will be pandemic. The scale of mental health problems is so large that it is a no brainer to start finding ways to help those who need it and fast. I don't need to tell you how hard it is to get someone to see you if you have a mental problem or the fact they throw generic pills at you like candy to get you off their backs (I don't mention names).
It is a day where hopefully national and local governments are informed about what needs to be done for improving mental health policies - the NHS needs reform to help us better. This isn't for some small minority - it's for one in four (and the families and friends that support the one in four). That's a lot of votes they could get if they got off their behinds.
To bring awareness to mental health hopefully flags up the fact we still have a stigma situation that there are people on planet earth who still think those of us with mental illness are doing it for attention or because we're just not able to pull ourselves together. My hope is everyone starts to understand that mental IS physical. It just happens to be a disease of the brain which is without doubt the most important organ you're carrying. When any other organ goes out of commission you get sympathy cards, but if your brain is ill, you might get some friends telling you to "perk up". Because you didn't think of that.
Could we please wake up. It's 2015 for God's sake. It's time to spend some money on why people aren't mentally healthy to come up with solutions to alleviate the suffering. When I perform my show, Sane New World, I invite the audience to have a discussion or ask questions. Three times I've had people stand up and say that they've had cancer and mental illness and when I ask which is worse to them they've all said the depression. One man told me and the audience that with cancer he wanted to live, with depression he wanted to die.
I hope people wake up and realise they can run, they can hide, they can pretend it doesn't exist but if there are one in four that means if not them it's someone they know or are related to.
Perhaps, on this day we should drag these people trying to get away with going to work that they should wake up and smell the roses. I hope it makes people aware that unless more focus is shone on the brain - in research, in funding, in healthcare - because right now I think it gets the least attention of all diseases rolled up together. Let's wave that banner. If on this day of days we could somehow stop the stigma than I salute it.
My new book - A Mindfulness Guide For The Frazzled - will be published in January 2016. Be the first to find out more here. Until then, I'll be back on the road with Sane New World. There are still some tickets available.

When you look down from the plane as you land in New Zealand, you think the grass must be fake because nothing is that green in real life; nature doesn't do dayglo hues. This makes Ireland look beige. My impression was that New Zealand is a virgin, not yet corrupted by greed and ruthless competition. People here are sweet, not aggressive. Even the birds are friendly. There have never been any predators so even the robins come up and stare at you with absolutely no fear; practically feeding you crumbs. It was as if God said to us humans, "Okay you screwed everything up, I'm giving you one more chance," and he created New Zealand.
No question, this is hobbit country (I say that even though I didn't last ten minutes watching the film where everyone was either an elf or Ian McKellen). The forests are covered in moss with gnarly, spooky trees growing out of boulders and caves carved into them. If this isn't elfdom nothing is.
Almost the whole country is a National Park so it's a no-go area for revolting hotel chains or tourist shops selling Lord of the Rings key rings. Anywhere else in the world some business man would sell out to tourism but not here. Milford Sound, a national park, is about a million acres of giant snow caped mountains made of glaciers. Between the Swiss-like Alps, deep in the valleys, are rainforests sitting in iridescent aqua lakes. Hundreds of waterfalls crash down the mountain from the melting snow.
Ok, enough with the scenery, I went there to speak at a conference called APAC - an international meeting of doctors and clinicians, coming together to brain-storm how to create a more human approach to health care. An approach where the patient has some say in their treatment and care. When it came time for me to speak, I almost got up and give my spiel about how I thought New Zealand was paradise and clearly everyone was happy because the place was so pristine and the air was five star.
I couldn't imagine there was any crime, especially outside the cities. I thought you'd have to beg someone to mug you and then probably have to explain what mugging was mainly because I'd been told people leave their doors and cars unlocked.
However, in the lunch break just before I was about to speak, I was told that there are more suicides of males under 30 than anywhere else in the world. It turns out the people suffering from mental problems, including a multitude of addicts of ice and other hard-core drugs, are hidden in communities far away out of sight where they receive no support. So much for the bucolic New Zealand jag I was on. I had to change my tune pretty quickly.
I should know by now that no matter where you are in the world, mental illness is a disease that hits so many people and is even more acute if you're living in dire conditions. Was I filled with so much guilt I immediately packed my bags to go help those people? Did I leave the country in disgust? No, I continued to tour I'm ashamed to say. Sometimes I just don't want to look into the darkness. Is that the human condition or is it just me?