Dead men don’t bite.
Israel Hands in Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

Treasure Island is, of course, the story of twelve-year-old Jim Hawkins by Robert Stevenson, who finds a treasure map that belonged to the pirate Captain Flint. Jim and his friends travel to a faraway island and meet ex-crew members of Captain Flint, who were also looking for the treasure and take Jim as a hostage.

They face shipwreck, a pirate mutiny, and sword fights. But, eventually, they overcome all the odds.

It’s a story about courage and prudence.

Last Sunday, Pádraig went to see the Treasure Island panto in the Helix theatre in DCU, together with a 40 person strong Caring and Sharing Association, CASA, group and the tickets having been made available by an anonymous donor.

Few things are more Irish than Pantomimes, pantos. They are a great family event each year around Christmas with entertainment particularly for the kids, but with jokes only adults appreciate being thrown in deliberately to keep everybody engaged. They encourage interaction and engagement. You sing along, shout back and maybe even stand up and dance. Oh, yes you do! And you always have to watch the characters’ back: “Look behind you!”.

We enjoyed it tremendously. It was great fun and brought many smiles to everybody’s face. Friends who had not seen Pádraig with his glasses before did not believe how much better he seemed to be.

The day itself felt a bit like an adventure. Getting out to a lovely theatre on a freezing cold day. The great company. The spectacular performance.

One of my favourite pirate quotes from the book is:

I’ve sailed the seas and seen good and bad, better and worse, fair weather and foul, provisions running out, knives going, and what not. Well, now I tell you, I never seen good come o’ goodness yet. Him as strikes first is my fancy; dead men don’t bite; them’s my views—amen, so be it.

That’s what pirates do. They look after themselves. They strike first. Dead men don’t bit. Amen.

In a world where it sometimes feels as if we were surrounded by pirates, this is good to know for survival. To avoid their strikes. To stay alive. With courage and prudence. And a bit of a bite.

Goodness will come out of goodness. Just not in a pirates’ world. That takes the Dreamboaters.

Built a boat yesterday
In one early morning half dream
Tú féin ag cabhrú liom
Craobhacha a bhaint de chrann
Ghreamamar le chéile iad
Le drúcht ó na ribí féir
Is báidín gleoite í
Lán de dhóchas ó mo chroí

And it floated like a dream
On those waves just you and me
Is it a sign of things to come
Lets just sail and have some fun

Check out the Dreamboaters’ live performance at a concert for Pádraig in the Grand Social, Dublin, in December 2014.

Life is short, break the Rules. Forgive quickly, kiss slowly. Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably and never regret ANYTHING that makes you smile.
Mark Twain

Paul (or was it Timothy?) in his letter to the Collossians gave this advice: Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offence. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love (COL 3.13).

While Paul didn’t refer anywhere to “kissing slowly” or, indeed, kissing at all, the essence of his remarks are not a million miles away from Mark Twain’s counsel.

Both want to encourage us to focus on what it is that makes life truly worth living. Being annoyed, angered, or bitter makes a miserable life. Focusing on what is good in life and in others, however, can be hard, especially, when you have plenty of reasons for being, let’s call it, “distracted”.

That’s why, sometimes, we need people around us who help us to (re-)focus.

Last week, Pádraig was lucky enough to meet some.

First, he went back into the “Gaming Room” and had another go at “Forza”, racing cars through the imaginary Sonora Desert in Mexico, using the ByoWave adaptable controlled, supported by a couple of young gamers.

Later in the week, he got a new pair of Ptosis glasses.

It is hard to over-estimate what a huge difference these glasses must be making for Pádraig’s life. It is not quite like being given back his eyesight, because he always could, although only with a big effort, open his eyes, but it is probably pretty close to it. The amazing thing is that even with these glasses, he can blink – and should they after a while become annoying, he is well able to take them off.

The day he got them, we decided to have a nice lunch, as we were in town anyway.

These glasses do not only help Pádraig to see better what is going on around him, they also help the people he meets to realise that he is not asleep but fully participating in life.

Let’s wear love. Forgive quickly. Laugh.

Life is short.

The secret of change is to focus all your energy, not on fighting the old but on building the new.
Dan Millman

Someone attached to a rubber band jumping off a platform high up in the sky is either stone mad or has a lot of faith.

Whatever the case may be, nobody will stop them from jumping.

Once there was a care provider manager pushing Pádraig’s wheelchair along the footpath in front of our house to assess the risks – not for Pádraig, but for his carers. We breathed a big sigh of relief when she approved the risk. She could have stopped Pádraig from going out with his carers had she deemed the risks to be too high.

When you have a disability, everything seems to become a risk. Even going out to get a breath of fresh air. I had to think of the hospital consultant who would not allow Pádraig go out because “We don’t want any dead people in our yard.”

Is this a case of the German Psychiatrist Consultant Manfred Lütz‘s thesis that We’re treating the wrong people: Our problem are the normal (Wir behandeln die Falschen: Unser Problem sind die Normalen)?

Speaking of ‘treatments’.

Over Christmas, I had a long phone call and various email exchanges with a U.K.-based highly experienced therapist who invented Facial Oral Tract Therapy (F.O.T.T.) and many other approaches to dealing with the effects of acquired brain injuries. When I mentioned to her that we wanted to work on Pádraig’s voice production, she asked me a dozen questions which I was not able to answer, except one.

No, we had not tried to encourage Pádraig to produce voice when he was lying on his stomach. But why not, she asked?. Lying on your tommy is the easiest position to produce sound, she said.

In ten years since Pádraig’s accident, no-one ever had told us.

We tried it out. It worked wonders.

Similar to his Ptosis. Very well known and understood condition following brain injury, she said. Really, I asked? Just one German neurologist had ever mentioned that to us in the past years.

She sent me a few papers and links. Here is a selection of what she shared with me.

• Eye movement problems following stroke and brain injury by the British and Irish Orthoptic Society.
• Ptosis Props
• Various tapes

There is so much knowledge, expertise and advise available that would make so many people’s live so much easier.

We just have to make it available in Ireland. Focus all our energy on building the new.

We went into town with Pádraig over Christmas and had a great time. Among many other really funny and entertaining things we came across was this man in a balaclava standing in front of a Garda car on Henry Street advertising a traditional Sunday beef roast and the best pint in Dublin.

He was definitely taking a risk. So were the Gardai.

I was wondering whether this was real or whether my mind was playing games.

Standing in the way of a Garda car in a balaclava advertising pints of Guinness on one of the busiest pedestrian streets of our capital city?

Stone mad. Definitely. And so very real.

Today is the ninth anniversary of the day that a young courageous doctor pulled out Pádraig’s tracheostomy, put a plaster on the opening, wondering why nobody had tried this before — and then organised a room for Pádraig in her hospital rather than sending us back to where we had come from, apologising that it was only a single room. But, she said, she had organised a mattress for me to sleep on the floor and a reclining chair for his mother so that we could both stay with him, if that was ok. Meals, she said, again apologising, unfortunately could only be served for Pádraig and one other person. Over the next two weeks, I organised the move from a small apartment to a bigger top floor apartment in a brand new coop building. Luckily, one of Pádraig’s friends was over to visit. He helped me to move all of our belongings loading a rented truck up to the roof. Two weeks later, after 19 months, Pádraig was discharged from hospital. Against the repeated, strongest advice and the extremely negative and frightening prognosis by his doctors in the hospital he had spent nearly 19 months in, he never aspirated, never had a lung infection or pneumonia, and he not only survived, but is enjoying with us and his friends the same food and the same drinks – which he immensely enjoys.

Stone mad. Definitely. And so very real.

I don’t know if my hairstyles reflect that, but I am someone who enjoys change.
Cobi Jones

Let’s forget about all those New Year resolutions we all had not just once, but nearly every year. Yes, there were slight variations, but, in essence, they were the same year after year. We knew what we wanted and needed to do and then swiftly forgot about it as the busy days took over again from the more reflective times between the years.

You know what I am talking about.

Like the little girl in the picture above, I am excited. Like Cobi Jones, I like change, even if my hairstyle doesn’t reflect it.

Following years of really hard efforts, we now have total agreement with all relevant parties, that those with a severe Acquired Brain Injury can no longer be left behind, locked away and be forgotten about. Not from a clinical point of view and not from a human rights point of view.

Amazingly, not only do we have total agreement on the need to do something, but total agreement on what it is that needs to be done, by whom it should be done, and who should pay for it.

And all has been summarised, written up, and recommended not by me, not by the An Saol Foundation, but by the Irish Health Service Executive, HSE, itself – all brought together in the Teach An Saol project which will kick off next year.

The stars are aligning and I feel the wind blowing from the right direction. The Universe just needs a little bit of determined encouragement, direction, and focus, to make Teach An Saol a reality: Sustainable enhanced services; a purpose-built campus with Social, Activity, Respite, and Transitional Living Hubs; and Satellite Centres across the Country.

We will create that focus on the back of a campaign that will put the rights of those left behind, mis-diagnosed as lost ‘cases’, and subsequently written off, at the Centre of Attention.

Live of those with sABI will change.

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Pádraig has been busy over the last week.

He became Godfather of his first nephew. There was a really nice baptism ceremony in the church, followed by a family get-together with some of the best pizza, totally home-made, I’ve had in a very long time. I didn’t think about it at the time, but Godfather and Pizza go well together as themes.

The baptism made Stephen’s Day even more special. It was a fabulous day and made us all so happy.

Over the Christmas Days, one of Pádraig’s best friends sent him a Sunday Playlist with some new Irish music. We listened to it while doing our Sunday Morning Workout. It must have been a bit of a relief for Pádraig not having to listen to my auld playlist of which he must by now be sick and tired. And such a great way to hear what is current, what it is that people are listening to, and to move with the times. At the end, even one of Pádraig’s carers (who is not from Ireland) asked whether I would share the list with her so she could learn more about modern Irish music.

The same friend also shared a picture of one of the huge billboard advertisements around the country featuring Pádraig promoting the Decision Support Service (DSS) and the new (!) 2015 (sic!) Assisted Decision Making (Capacity) Act.

So, in case you’re looking for a change too, here are a few new things you could do in 2024:

• Help us to promote the Teach An Saol project (2024-2027). How? Tell everybody about it (easy) or help us in very practical ways (a bit more involved), for example by helping us to run a social media campaign, by making appointments with politicians, or by putting us in touch with journalists. Or by whatever other stuff makes sense to you.
• Spend time with Pádraig who is always looking for good company. You could visit, go out with him, tell him about your life (that could be a one-to-one:), or fill him in on new music, films, books, or podcasts.

Pádraig himself told us yesterday, that what he most misses since his accident is his voice. We promised him to do what we can to help him recover his voice as much as possible.

I hope you had a good Christmas and time to look at life from a distance which might have offered you a different perspective on what is really important in your life. Make the change. Not the same old but something really new and exciting.

Thank you to you all who have supported and helped Pádraig in his new life over the past year in so many different ways. He, and us, would not be where we are would it not be for you. I cannot thank you enough. It is truly uplifting to see and experience so much goodness in a world that is struggling so hard.

I wish you all a very Happy 2024 and may all your wishes become true.

I can see a better time when all our dreams come true.
Shane McGowan (1957-2023)

That couple in New York, despite being pretty down and out, could see a better time when all their dreams would come true.

Seriously? Or had they realised this was nothing more than a fairytale?

Christmas is a time when many people get slightly depressed, sad, melancholic, heavy-hearted.

In preparation for my talk to the German, Austrian, and Swiss societies for Neuro-Rehabilitation the week before last, I went back over pictures documenting the total neglect of the health system of people whose diagnosis is an “intolerable life”, people who cannot be “cured”, where any further interventions would just be “wasted”, people who can “justifiably” be neglected, even if this neglect leads repeatedly to life-threatening situations.

Following a suggestion that instead of leading an intolerable life his organs could make many people happy, the health systems made his life nearly intolerable. A destroyed urinary tract, a life-threatening thrombosis, hair unwashed for months, a “spontaneous” haematoma, a life-threatening collapsed lung following prolonged use of a ventilator, a series of infections including MRSA with subsequent year-long isolation, a dislocated extremely painful femur/hip, blisters and pressure sores making the removal of part of his heel necessary —- all these could have been avoided; they happened because of neglect. Neglect that did never seem to surprise anybody because it is the norm in health systems when they deal with “hopeless cases”.

While we were horrified, the health system and those working in it were only too familiar with those horrific, avoidable, secondary injuries. Nothing unusual. Daily routine.

None of the professionals at my talk were surprised by these pictures showing terrible, life-threatening, but totally avoidable injuries.

They were more surprise when I shared pictures of Pádraig’s life today. His happiness. His abilities. Him taking control. Participating and being integrated. I shared pictures that you are so familiar with if you have been following this blog for a while.

Like these from his recent Christmas party to which he had invited his friends, assisted by one of his best friends who keeps everybody in the picture and who each Christmas time does his magic using a secret recipe for a magic drink, which he calls Mulled Wine.

Or, also last week, at the Hosier concert accompanied by one of his best new friends.

There were a few Firsts last week too, like the attempt to pay Jingle Bells.

Or showing us how well he can use his right hand, often ignored by us because we don’t realise how well he can use it. He took a Grasp Switch in his hand and pressed it each time he heard a signal triggered at random. With these reaction time I’d feel safe with Pádraig driving my car.

None of the horrendous secondary injuries inflicted on him during his time in hospitals, the unbelievable comments from health workers suggesting that it might have been better had he died — all that is long behind us.

Without any medication and without being in the care of the health system, Pádraig is enjoying life and taking control of it. None of the horrendous injuries ever re-occured — because they can easily be avoided if you care.

We can see a better time and it’s not a Fairytale.

So, Happy Christmas. I’ve got a feeling next year is for me and you.

The battle outside ragin’ will soon shake your windows and rattle your walls for the times they are a-changin’.
Bob Dylan

Pádraig was really happy yesterday to see Christiane on a video WhatsApp call from Augsburg where I, with Pádraig as a virtual co-presenter, was to present to the annual meeting of the neurorehabilitation societies of Germany, Austria, and Switzerland, attended by 900 practitioners and researchers.

They had invited us to share with them the story of the An Saol Foundation. Although Pádraig couldn’t come in person, he was present there more than anybody else.

To my surprise, the room was packed, with people standing at the back and sitting on the floor. Many talked to me afterwards and wanted to find out more.

Looks like the example is making waves.

With the Congress, there was an industry exhibition where I made a few good connections and discovered a few new, interesting pieces of equipment of great potential for An Saol.

There was a young man looking in from the outside to one of the talks. He attracted more interest than most of the speakers. And there was the famous portrait of “Che” by Irishman Jim Fitzpatrick – at a stand at a small Christmas market we visited on one of the evenings.

I attended dozens of talks. It was clear that we all know what needs to be done. But it was also confirmed that few of us are doing what needs to be done. Few who are prepared to rattle the cage and rock the boat.

There was another thing I learnt: there are two famous John Krakauers in the world. One is the author of “Into the Wild” and other books. The other is equally brilliant, not as a writer, but as a neurologist, not afraid of pushing the boundaries and provoke. The world needs more of people like him.

Because too many people see barriers and restrictions wherever they look. Luckily, there are sufficient straight thinking revolutionaries, like the man on the banner at the Christmas Market, who have realised that radical change is necessary and who are prepared to bring about that change.

While preparing our contribution to the congress, I tried to remember how many people had helped us along the way. Their number was surprisingly high. High enough to be heard, seen, and felt. Not at some distant day in the future but now.

They are ready to do what they can to support us. Change is coming.

It’s time to wake up and smell the coffee.

Because the times they are a-changin’.

I haven’t been everywhere but it’s on my list.
Susan Sonntag

Travelling with Pádraig is fun and a great education.

Fun, because I can share Pádraig’s enjoyment of life and adventure. Education, because I learn so much about other people’s perception of Pádraig.

Last week we went to Madrid for just a couple of nights. Because we love Madrid. Because we could meet some old friends there. And because the flights to the German Christmas markets were too expensive.

It was astonishing to see people’s reactions when we were going into bars and restaurants.

Before we even got there, we had to explain to a very nice lady at Madrid airport whose job it was to organise taxis, that Pádraig’s wheelchair did fit into most converted cars. And that we would too. She called a “Eurotaxi”, which is what the converted taxis in Madrid are called, warning the driver that this was a gigantic wheelchair, accompanied by three adults with three bags. – Thankfully, it turned out that the driver took life, and us, in a less dramatic way.

Next stop was the hotel we had booked, giving them plenty of notice that one of us was a wheelchair user. No problema. When we got there and had checked in, it turned out that the lift was too narrow – obviously, un problema bastante grande. The receptionist was a bit under pressure, I’d give him that, but what followed was very hard to swallow: Had we really advised beforehand that one in our party was a wheelchair user? Could we show them the email? Had we sent them the dimensions of the wheelchair? I mean… really??? Even when we showed them the email and said that we had never been asked for the dimensions, he didn’t really calm down. In the end, we found a cheaper, better, and more friendly hotel around the corner.

The day continued with bar staff telling us getting in would be really complicated, others that we needed to sit in a part of the (empty) bar we didn’t really want to sit in.

In the end, it all turned ou fine. We had pulpo (what else?) in the Cervecería Alemana (where else?), an exceptional breakfast in the Barrio de las Letras, and a wonderful walk in the Retiro. We met our friends and had a fabulous time with them in a little restaurant on the Plaza de Santa Ana.

The return trip turned out to be very exceptional. It was so windy at Dublin Airport that many flights were re-routed, though ours safely landed on time and without too much turbulence. As soon as all passengers had left, one of the flight attendants came over to us and said that Pádraig was going to be lifted down the steps of the aircraft because they couldn’t use the normal lift-on as it was too windy. When they heard about Pádraig’s height, they checked with the Operations Headquarter who asked airport police and firefighters to assess the situation.

For an hour or so, it was unclear how and when Pádraig was going to be able to get off the plane. Eventually, they used one of the big fire engines to act as a wind barrier and got us all of with the normal lifter.

Staff at the airport, including those with more than 15 years of experience, all said that they had never experienced anything like this first hand.

Pádraig will continue to travel, to live, and to enjoy life.

And one day the world will be ready for Pádraig.

He’s on the job. The rest of the world is on his list.

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Once Pádraig was safe and back at home, I went to the An Saol Centre where a UCD student and two experts from the Galway-based company ByoWave had started to set up the new Games Room. “Cool” isn’t the word to describe it.

It’s super cool and it will add a whole new dimension to the An Saol Foundation’s offering to its clients.

In reality there are very few things you actually have to do before you die.
They include: ring your mum more often; recycle; watch The Book of Mormon.
Richard Osman, The Guardian (5 Oct 2013)

Osman says it all in his articles on The 100 top things you honestly don’t need to do before you die.

In his review of various articles and books, Richard Osman found, among many other things you apparently have to do before you die :

50 boutique hotels you must visit, 100 ways to make your garden or your children happy, and 5,000 fonts you can’t PowerPoint without.

His response to all this advice? The 100 top things you honestly don’t need to do before you die.

You must never swim with dolphins. If they ever want to swim with you, I’m sure they’ll let you know. Forget Machu Picchu; the sunset on the west coast of Scotland is as beautiful as any you’ll see in the world, and it’s really nearby. And by all means go kiteboarding above the Andes, but that might be the thing you do literally just before you die. And the Guardian would miss your Soulmates subscription.

What’s left? – Call your mother more often. Recycle. Watch The Book of Mormon.

I went to New York last week to visit the Success Rehab Centre who had invited me a long time ago when they had heard about Pádraig’s accident and our efforts to establish a rehab centre in Ireland. And to visit Prof. Joseph J. Fins, the man who wrote the book everybody interested in severe Acquired Brain Injury should read, Rights Come To Mind.

There was one free afternoon. So we went to Times Square and got very heavily discounted tickets to this musical that apparently has been around Broadway for more than 15 years.

It was the funniest 2 hours I had in a long time, perhaps ever.

The videos on the songs, such as Hello or I Believe, cannot really capture all the hilarious and political incorrectness and irreverence of the musical by the makers of Southpark. But they will give you an idea.

It is hard to believe, but true, that one of the many stops of The Book of Mormons US American Tours was Salt Lake City.

One song, Turn It Off, is my personal favourite.

I got a feelin’ that you could be feelin’
A whole lot better than you feel today
You say you got a problem
Well, that’s no problem
It’s super easy not to feel that way.

Turn it off like a light switch
Just go, click
It’s a cool little Mormon trick
We do it all the time.

It answers, in a very funny, satirical way, one the big questions I haven’t found an answer to: how is it that people manage to ignore what they know is wrong – and they could change for the better?

Well, they just turn it off like a light switch, a cool little trick the Mormons must have taught the rest of the world.

The three days we were away from home and from Pádraig were incredibly busy. Full of impressions, emotions, and experiences. Everything worked out. There were no critical emergencies.

The worst thing that happened at home was that our car got a flat tyre when Pádraig was on his way to Vicar Street to see one of his favourite bands, Bell X1. His sister and friends were there to quickly deal with what was a bit of a difficult situation in a most efficient way. They handled the situation better than we would ever have been able to.

The world does not collapse on any of us when we are apart for a few days. We believed. Now we know.

More smiling, less worrying. More compassion, less judgment. More blessed, less stressed. More love, less hate.
Roy T. Bennett

Ireland’s best kept secret is that of the annual pre-Christmas Late Late Toy Show set of last Friday. This year, Pádraig’s younger sister got four of the vary rare tickets to a sneak preview on Thursday afternoon. It was absolute magic to get into the RTÉ studios and into the set of the flagship programme of the world’s longest running Talk Show.

Pádraig saw the action not just in front of and behind the cameras, but through a camera. RTÉ staff could not have been nicer and more accommodating. We saw the new presenter, Patrick Kielty, having great fun with the kids all dressed up and ready for what was most likely going to be the most wonderful day in their young lives.

At the end of the Toy Show preview session we had a coffee.

And then, as if that hadn’t been sufficient excitement, Pádraig’s sister had the best idea ever: she’d show us around her workplace. What for her is by now routine, for us was a whole different world.

Pádraig went into the control rooms of Ireland’s two official TV channels and saw his sister’s pretty small studio where she works as a continuity presenter – including the red button she uses to interrupt whatever is being transmitted at the time to give an overview of the upcoming programmes to the nation. Imagine.

The highlight of his visit, however, was the weather forecaster studio with its blue screen and screen overlays, including the famous isel bars and all. The weather forecasgter on duty couldn’t have been nicer.

Leaving the RTÉ studios, we were in good time to make it to one of his best friend’s graduation in Trinity College, TCD. We met her friends who she had told us so much about and, especially, her mother who had made it all the way from Cork to be with her daughter on this very special day.

Now we’re both TCD graduates, she told him.

In response, Pádraig smiled one of the biggest, most beautiful smiles he had shared with any of us since his accident.

The day ended with all of us going to bed.

Totally exhausted.

With the biggest smiles on our faces.

And in our hearts.

There’s a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one
and they’re all made out of ticky-tacky and they all look just the same
Malvina Reynolds

I always thought Pete Seeger – the man who said at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival when Dylan used an electric guitar to play Like a Rolling Stone “If I had an axe, I’d cut the cable right now!” – had written Little Boxes. Until I listened to the man himself clarifying that, in fact, Malvina Reynolds had written it.

And the people in the houses
All went to the university
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same
And there’s doctors and lawyers
And business executives
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same

I listened to the song again because I believe it might give the answer to one of the fundamental questions I haven’t got my head around yet since Pádraig’s accident:

Why are those with a severe Acquired Brain Injury (sABI) left behind?

Last week was one of those brilliantly busy ones with some really incredible ‘firsts’ and some equally brilliant confirmations of Pádraig’s abilities which I want to share with you.

Here is Pádraig playing music.

First the tin whistle.

Then the pipes using the ‘enhanced handscupe’ for the recording of an RTÉ radio programme to be aired early next year.

A group of UCD researchers joined in for the recording. One of them had set up a company manufacturing “The Next Level of Adaptability and Customisation”, the award-winning super cool Proteus Controller by ByoWave. And guess what? – They left one in An Saol for our soon to be set up accessible Games Room.

The real “first”, however, Pádraig stunned us with was a much more low-tech, but quite tricky, paper-based exercise which he had attempted some time ago. Back then, he hadn’t managed to complete it successfully.

Have a look yourself.

The task was putting these six sentences into the right order. To be honest, it took me a while to get this right. There were a lot of different steps to go through. Reading, re-reading, remembering, checking and double-checking. Final check. Pádraig got it right.

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same

At the end of the week, it had become blatantly clear that doctors, lawyers, and business executives need to move out of the little boxes they ended up in. Urgently.

Of course, I know this is an awful lot to ask for. It might almost be as impossible as wishing for World Peace. We won’t give up just yet. On either.

Although, these days it can seem, at times, that we’re running very low even on hope – for both, world peace and those guys moving out of their little boxes.

What then if we failed in this world?

Malvina Reynolds has another song I discovered recently that is definitely worth listening to: I Don’t Mind Failing.

I don’t mind failing in this world
Somebody else’s definition
Isn’t going to measure my soul’s condition
I don’t mind failing in this world