A vibrant festival scene at night, featuring colorful lights illuminating trees and a gathering of people around a bonfire, creating a lively atmosphere.

And into the wild we go, losing ourselves in music, finding ourselves in the magic.
Anon

We are not at the Electric Picnic, Ireland’s biggest and most popular music and arts festival. Ireland’s answer to Glastonbury. Famous for its Body & Soul area. And it’s mind blowing.

So, altogether, the Electric Picnic is An Saol all wrapped up in a long weekend caring for: body, mind, and soul.

Close-up portrait of an older man with long hair, wearing a serious expression against a dark background.

Last night, Pádraig went to see Brendan Gleeson, “Jack” the Mechanic, in The Weir by Conor McPherson, in the Olympia.

One of his best friends who had organised the tickets months ago came over from Cork.

They both had a brilliant time.

To my shame, it was the first time last week, that I realised the great work one of the practitioners in An Saol is doing; she even brings in her complete set of singing bowls with each producing different frequencies and vibrations.

A local councillor posted an update of her work through the door with a picture we had taken before the summer of Part 1 of a meeting which should have had Part 2 happening some weeks ago. There is hope…

And the final picture is from a new, cool, 3D printed ‘button’ working with one of the magic adaptable controllers from Galway Startup Byowave who are collaborating with the An Saol Foundation on accessible gaming settings.

I met with a young, 19-year-old man and his family in the National Rehabilitation Hospital yesterday. It was like a dejà-vu. There now is a brand new building, but for the young man who had suffered a severe Acquired Brain Injury things weren’t really that different from what Pádraig and us experienced during his stay there, around 10 years ago now.

Reading Kevin’s news about his daughter Hannah who is back in Beaumont Hospital. The anxiety. The wait for this phone call. The uncertainty.

There have been, and there are, moments when I just want to get away. Get into the car with Pádraig and Pat. And drive away.

And I don’t know why it was a thing with me—that irrational fear that kept me here.
Conor McPherson, The Weir

Jack’s monologue, and indeed the entire play, is a reminder to live fully, speak honestly, and take the chances that matter—because silence and safety can become their own kind of prison.

We can never become complicit. We can never abandon our sons and daughters and partners, as we are supposed to because they are lost cases anyways. Instead, we have to break out of this prison of silence and safety. And go Into the Wild.