Being German and all, I’d heard of mistletoe but up to today didn’t know what it is all about. For example, I didn’t know that Loki tricked the blind god Hodur into murdering Balder with an arrow made of Mistletoe, being the only plant to which Balder was vulnerable. Did you?

I also didn’t know that mistletoe has become part of the Christmas celebrations in many parts of the world:  a man is allowed to kiss any woman standing underneath mistletoe. Bad luck befalls any woman who refuses the kiss.

Which is where Justin Bieber comes in with his song – though you must endure the whole song to get to the bit with the mistletoe.

When we went for a walk with Pádraig through the Botanic Gardens, just a stone throw away from here, we also found out what mistletoe looks like.

No. These aren’t, although they very much look like, bird’s nests, but mistletoe – a plant that lives off the tree in which it settles. While it was regarded as a pest, it’s now recognised as an important contributor to biodiversity – and home to hundreds of animals. In Australia, 240 different birds, or 75% of the species, build their nests in mistletoe.

As you can see – the weather was beautiful here over Christmas and Pádraig got a lot of fresh air.

Next year, remember to kiss under the mistletoe. For good luck! (It’ll be hanging in Teach An Saol – the centre for persons with severe acquired brain injuries and their families!)

All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.
Is life just a game? With winners and losers? And what makes a winner, what makes a loser? For me to win, do you have to lose?

Yes, says the zero sum game theory.

By contrast, it will be the intelligent pursuit of self-interest, according to Robert Wright in his 2006 TED Talk, that will save our society, civilisation and humanity. Wright also called this “non-zero-sumness” — the network of linked fortunes and cooperation that has guided our evolution to this point.

Non-zero-sum games is what I’ll be playing next year. I don’t want to win to make someone else loose. Life is far too short for that. I want to help others to “win”, and I want them to help me to “win”, because as humans we married our fortunes together.

Pádraig finally tried out a new standing frame for the first time, one we had used in Pforzheim and which is particularly well suited to exercise his upper body.

Fantastic, isn’t it?

Oh – I’ve also promised myself not to play zero sum games with others anymore next year. If they insist that this is what they want to do, I’ll tell them that they’ll have to look for someone else to play. My time has become too precious to waste it on stupid games. What about yourself?

The song A spaceman came traveling by Chris de Burgh sounds like the script for the Arrival – a recently released film still playing here in Dublin where I watched it today. Sadly – it wasn’t me who made the connection but the father of a young man who was in Pádraig’s class in primary school and who I met in the cinema by pure coincidence.

It was he who made me think that the movie was, as crazy as it may sound, about Christmas. About the idea of ‘peace on earth’ and understanding. Even the fact that there were 12 spaceships sounded like an echo.

There are a number of themes in this film which made me think. Our concept of time as being linear with ‘their’ concept of time being ‘out of order’, circular.

In an article exploring the connection between Ted Chiang’s 2002 short story called Story of Your Life and Arrival, Nick Statt wrote that hidden under Arrival’s more palatable themes about overcoming cultural differences and uniting as one species is Chiang’s more direct message about learning how to appreciate life’s moments, to live outside the bounds of time.

The underlying question is: If we could see our lives laid out before us, would we change anything? According to Statt, Story of Your Life — and by extension Arrival — is telling us to live as if the answer is, and always will be, a resolute no.

It’s a really deep and interesting philosophical question – one that most likely has been  explored ad nauseam by thinkers around the world and across the centuries.

One that is particularly relevant when life turns difficult, complex, and at times hard to manage.

What do you think?

Pádraig had a great day today – breakfast, walk in the park, a few episodes of the Mentalist, and a visitor.

Would I have taken other decisions in the past had I known years ago that this day would come, one day?

I am so often accused of gloominess and melancholy. And I think I’m probably the most cheerful man around. I don’t consider myself a pessimist at all. I think of a pessimist as someone who is waiting for it to rain. And I feel completely soaked to the skin. … I think those descriptions of me are quite inappropriate to the gravity of the predicament that faces us all. I’ve always been free from hope. It’s never been one of my great solaces. I feel that more and more we’re invited to make ourselves strong and cheerful. …. I think that it was Ben Jonson who said, I have studied all the theologies and all the philosophies, but cheerfulness keeps breaking through. (The Joking Troubadour of Gloom, The Daily Telegraph, 26 April 1993.)

Strong and cheerful when we’re soaked to the skin – sounds like a good description of how I hope to feel in the coming year…

The quote came up this morning when a group of journalists were remembering some of the famous people who died this past year. They spent quite a while talking about Leonard Cohen, the ups and downs in his life, his music, and the incredible humour in his songs. They didn’t quite refer to it as ‘cheerfulness’ though…

It’s hugely difficult to do this, but I’ve promised myself to try this out next year: to really focus on what needs to be done for Pádraig and persons with injuries like his. Sounds so simple, but it also means, if you turn it around, not to focus on things that don’t work, on people who are making my work difficult, on what often looks and feels like a pretty desperate situation. I am going to do this work cheerfully, with determination, persistently, transparently. I also know that I will have to be physically fit to do it.

I think this is how Pádraig would have done this. We both share a slight tendency to become impatient – something he managed to control really well. An example to follow.

In my house, when I was small, Christmas started when the bell rang on Christmas Eve and the living door opened to reveal the magic Christmas tree in the corner. On the opposite side, there was a 3in1 radio/record player/TV set playing the same record every year, starting with church bells as we entered the room. We had to sing a couple of songs with that record before we were allowed to check out the presents under the tree.

I had no idea how the tree got into the living room who set it up and who put that record on.

To be honest, I didn’t want to know. I wanted to remain convinced it was the ‘Christkind’, the baby Jesus, with his magical powers. It was, after all, the ‘Christkind’ who organised the presents – setting up the tree and getting that record going was, in comparison, a piece of cake.

Until one year on Christmas Eve, I opened our kitchen door and stared at the abyss: there was my father just coming in with our Christmas Tree! My parents didn’t think that this was a big deal, they thought I was now grown up enough to learn that life is less magical and more practical hands-on.

Although everybody in our house knows where the tree comes from and who’s putting it up, Christmas was really magic, again. Everybody got lovely presents – but it wasn’t because of the presents. We had a great meal (though the turkey was a bit dry:) – but it wasn’t because of the meal either. It was magic, because our family was together for a day, having a good time – something I never thought we’d ever have together ever again. Love was all around.

Happy Christmas – even, no: especially, if it is full of memories of times gone by.

I wanted to share with you what I think is my favourite Christmas song – though it’s not really a Christmas Christmas song, if you know what I mean. If you watched Love Actually last night (in Ireland they showed it on RTÉ One) you might have heard Joni Mitchell singing it in the background…

When I was looking for it I found a live version of the song, a brilliant live version – though not by Joni but by Travis. Listen to it…

While I was just listening to it, Pádraig called me. When I went over to see what happened, I wished him a “Happy Christmas” and I swear he replied “Happy Christmas”, I have no doubt about it whatsoever.

So to all, near and afar, Happy Christmas!

 

You probably know the game: you put one hand on the table, the other person puts their hand on yours, then you put yours on theirs, they put theirs on yours (still following?) and as you put your hands on theirs, you try to give it a ‘gentle’ slap while they try to pull their hand away from the ‘stack’ when you are about to slap them.

You are, of course, trying to avoid the slap and pull your hand away as the other hand comes down. To win, you need a really good reaction time, to pull your hand away just about as the other hand is about to slap yours.

Not a game someone with a severe acquired brain injury would be expected to be able to play, never mind to be able to play terribly well. Because first, they would need to understand the purpose of the game, then they would need to be able to co-ordinate their hands and to be able to pile them up alternating with yours, and then they would need to be able to see yours coming down onto theirs, react quickly and pull their hand away as yours is about to slap theirs.

Mmmmhhh. That pre-conceptions was wrong… as are so many others.

I can’t hear what I’m writing. And I’m blaming Pádraig.

We’d never have gone to the Button Factory tonight – but he managed to get us invited to one of the best nights of the year: the KILA Christmas extravaganza! It was fabulous. We were right in front of the stage – and right beside the gigantic speakers.

It was the first time that a song was dedicated to us, the three of us. The best Christmas present. For us to be there. Together. It was a waltz.

Pádraig used to tell us that when he went to concerts and turned around to look back, there was never anyone in his ‘shadow’, he was just too tall. Tonight it was almost the opposite: nobody standing in front of him. But we were not sad. He, and us, had an absolutely fantastic night. It was magic and he had a great time. Thanks to KILA (and family:)! It was the perfect Christmas party!

Before we went out to the Button Factory, loads of his friends arrived at the house, many of them not knowing they were going to meet so many of their old friends they hadn’t seen before, in some cases, for months.

How different this all is from how things were a year ago. How grateful we are that all of these things are happening. Hey, life is worth living! And Pádraig is showing us how much!

Last week a friend of Pádraig’s came to visit and we went for a walk along the Royal Canal, the one of the ‘screws’ and the ‘auld triangle‘ that went ‘dingle dangle’.

We went the ‘wrong way’, East to West, uphill – though you wouldn’t think that ‘uphill’ and ‘canal’ are concepts that could co-exist, there is a distinct difference when you push a wheelchair. But Pádraig was enjoying the change in direction, so to speak, and the friend was doing extremely well, given the, at times, pretty steep inclines. So I could do what I usually can’t which is looking around.

And there was this roof, in the middle of all the other roofs: covered by seagulls.

I have no idea what attracted all these seagulls. There must have been some invisible factor that made them feel so comfortable on this roof that they all assembled there.

It made me thinks of walks down a street full of restaurants, some overcrowded, others completely empty, for no apparent reason.

Could be that seagulls, as people, just feel more comfortable in the company of others. Honestly, you wouldn’t want to be that seagull sitting by itself on a deserted roof, while or your friends had assembled ‘next door’, nor that lone person sitting on a window seat in an otherwise empty restaurant?

On the other hand, it takes courage to step ‘out of line’ and explore new roofs or new restaurants. It might not be as re-assuring to go out on your own, it might feel slightly uncomfortable to push your boundaries and start exploring.

Yet, this is exactly what dreamers and dreamboaters do. And guess what, it’s fun!

Tomorrow, Pádraig will go out to the Button Factory for KILA’s Christmas Extravaganza. And I feel so lucky and privileged that I will be able to go too. Imagine that, 30 years in Dublin and never been in the Button Factory!

There are a few films that are like a boomerang. They come back. Once a year, mostly around Christmas. One of these is Nottinghill from 1999. Julia Roberts’ character Anna Scott sees La Mariée by Chagall in the home of Hugh Grant’s character, William Thacker. Anna later gives William the original as a present. The screenwriter, a fan of Chagall, chose La Mariée because it “depicts a yearning for something that’s lost” – which is what romance is all about.

They showed this film tonight and I watched it, I think, for the 20th time.

It finished far too late, but watching it made me feel for a couple of hours as if this Christmas was one like those of the past, one that I was yearning for.

The reality is: it’s not. The love this Christmas is stronger. Much stronger. Than ever before.