Tag Archives: life

Move On

02 Sunday Aug 2026

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Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to move on.
Exodus 14:15

There they were: Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey singing When You Believe from the Prince of Egypt, the animated movie telling the story of the Book of Exodus in which Moses, a prince of Egypt, becomes the prophet that leads the Hebrews out of Egypt.

We were flicking through the German TV channels one night last week when we hit a programme showing clips of the best female singers.

We are not afraid although we know there’s much to fear. We were moving mountains long before we knew we could.

I had tears in my eyes listening to Whitney and Mariah. What a cheesy song. But it couldn’t be more powerful. Nor more beautiful.

This is our last week here. On Tuesday, we’ll start driving back: three days on the road and on the sea.

Yesterday, we went to Husum and sat beside the old port with a moving pedestrian bridge that opens from time to time to allow for the passage of boats from the harbour to the sea.

Earlier in the week, we rocked at our last Tuesday night in Garding with “Germany’s best Neil Young”, Stefan — really! Apparently, Neil knows of Stefan, who has been, with his wife Una, at countless Neil Young concerts. It was uncanny. Stefan had this all down to a “t”. Neil’s voice, his movements, his haircut. Even Neil’s often endless electric guitar solos which he enjoys infinitely more than his audience. Stefan sang Keep On Rocking In The Free World like Neil 2009 in Glastonbury: Here’s one more kid….that will never go to school….never get to fall in love…never get to be cool. How powerful is that?!

At Pádraig’s OT session, we tried out a new device called Pneumatron 200, a medical massage device that combines aspects of massage and cupping. It is used to loosen tense muscles and connective tissue, stimulate local circulation and lymphatic drainage, reduce swelling, and support pain relief and joint mobility. Interesting but requiring more than a once-off use to see how well it works.

Remaining passive is not an option. We have to move forward, even when the barriers appear insurmountable. We have to turn hope into action.

Move. Walk. Don’t be a bystander.

Überfordert

19 Sunday Jul 2026

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I tried to drown my sorrows, but the bastards learned how to swim, and now I am overwhelmed by this decent and good feeling.
Frida Kahlo

Sorrows generally don’t disappear. They learn how to swim when you try to drown them. They survive.

But then, somehow, and alongside those ever-lasting sorrows, something decent, good, and beautiful can emerge. Nobody better to tell us about it than Frida Kahlo. She had a very difficult life with great pain, periods of deep depression, and a passionate but complicated relationship with Diego Rivera.

She did not overcome pain by making it disappear; she confronted it, painted it and incorporated it into her identity. Her art repeatedly transforms the injured body into something vivid, beautiful, humorous and defiant. It’s when we stop trying to escape but learn how to live with sorrows, that we realise: life continues – with all its beauty, decency, and moments of happiness.

We’re back in Tating.

And back in Garding on Tuesday evenings at the Musikantenfest – though a more appropriate name would probably be Rockfest. There are always three parallel stages. Last Tuesday, on two of them the bands were playing a song by Rio Reiser’s “Ton Steine Scherben”, one of the defining German rock bands from the 70s. One was playing Junimond, the other Keine Macht für Niemand. It was a time when Germany and the Germans had not really dealt with their past. When children found it hard to understand that the older generations had allowed this most horrible period in German history, perhaps in history – and the older generation just went quiet, out of guilt, perhaps shame – or both.

In any case, last Tuesday felt like time travel.

And there was this “Gang” again. I have a feeling that I took a picture of Germany’s narrowest road a million times.

I like this one as, to me, the two ladies with the nordic walking sticks seem to wonder whether they should venture a walk through the Pannmeistergang or whether it would be safer not too.

The sign says: Only for Pedestrians, Nur für Fußgänger – presumably to stop drivers trying to give it a go!?

When we are not at a rock concert in Garding, we go for walks, try to eat well, sleep, and spend time together. A couple of times a week, an OT Pádraig has been working with for several summers joins us. We have time to support Pádraig using communication tools, going beyond choosing from a pre-defined set of answers, but spelling them out.

We also met our local GP, just to check in. He gave us a few tips this year, and he explained why, in his view, some clinicians and providers have trouble providing an adequate service to people like Pádraig.

He said that they are just “überfordert”. Overwhelmed, out of their depth, not able to cope, or out of their league. How well I know that feeling! Do you?

It makes perfect sense. Simple. I will remember it – instead of becoming desperate in the face of that lack of understanding, I will remember that, most likely, nobody ever prepared those whose profession is to care, to care for people like Pádraig. (I won’t speculate here about the reasons why they weren’t prepared.)

I like Rio Reiser’s approach: Let’s tear down the walls that divide us. Come together, people—get to know one another. (Reißen wir die Mauern ein, die uns trennen. Kommt zusammen, Leute, lernt euch kennen.)

When we stop trying to drown our sorrows and, instead. learn to live with them. In community. Together. And care for one another.

Then we’ll realise that life goes on – with all its challenges and with all its beauty.

More Than One Way Home

14 Sunday Jun 2026

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Ain’t no right way – Ain’t no wrong – Whatever road you might be on – You find your own way.
Keb’ Mo’,

We all have moments in our lives we will never forget. For me, many of those moments are associated with music. More than one way home. And now also the lads from Killeagh.

One summer, I was in my parents’ house with my sister who was ten years older than myself. Both of us had long left home and were just back for a visit. Mark Knopfler and Keb’ Mo’ were guests on a music programme on the telly. I told my sister how much I liked their music and the songs they had played. The next day at lunch time, she came back from town with two records: one by Mark, the other by Keb’.

I had never ever seen Mark or, indeed Dire Straits, live. But last Monday, Keb’ Mo’ played in Dublin and I managed to get two fourth row tickets, right in front of the stage.

He was brilliant. He is not only an extraordinary musician, he is also funny and completely understated. Full of energy at almost 75 years of age.

For me, though, it was much more. It was one of those moments, when tears come to my eyes. Memories become overwhelming. People long gone appear right beside me. That love, that caring feeling, that feeling of being loved, being care-free, not having to worry about anything is there again, stronger than ever. Those two magic albums my sister got me. It was back, present with me last Monday.

On Thursday, I had a dentist appointment. (Not one of these anymore, where the dentist tells you all is good, and ‘just keep brushing your teeth’…:) There is always a paper in the waiting room. That day, I was reminded that there is another world out there. A world I don’t seem to be connected to anymore.

One of the (longer) headlines read:

“Did that woman need to eat an entire pizza during a showing of Devil Wears Prada II? I do not believe that poor comportment indicates poor personal values, but could she not have waited until afterwards?”

Well, I don’t think that I will ever find out the answer to this important question. So important that it made the front page of Ireland’s most important broadsheet.

But it brought a big smile to my face. I agreed with Fiona McRedmond, the author of this headline in last Thursday’s The Irish Times, that there is a time and a place to do certain things. Or not to do them. Right?

Which brings me to another of Keb’s classics: “The Old Me Better”.

I liked the old me better, I was a lot more fun
I liked the old me better, didn’t take crap from anyone
Well I’d sleep all day, party all night
Did whatever I wanted whatever I liked
You made me a brand new man but I liked the old me better

I do things now I would never have done as “the old me”. I lie awake all night. I don’t party anymore. I take a lot of crap from too many people too many times. I don’t have that much fun anymore. – I’m all with Keb’: I like the old me better.

The new me has learned to be happy with and about much less. That’s a lesson Pádraig taught me. He is happy with and about very little. As always, a trailblazer. Minimalism, seeing the essential, not being distracted by all that noise around us – this is what we should all focus on. The rest is wasteful and destructive.

Last night, Pádraig brought me and a friend, and his sister, along to see Kingfishr in Malahide. This was definitely not about bringing up old memories like Keb’ did. This was about the new. The upcoming. The energy and pride of the lads. The beating on the chest. The “boys roar for to rattle the air” energy. The “bury me with my hurley” pride.

They’d go rarin’ and tearin’ and fightin’ for love….

It was a fantastic evening.

There were moments when I felt like the old me: when I didn’t take crap from anyone, when I’d sleep all day, party all night, did whatever I wanted whatever I liked. I thought: Well, there ain’t no right way home. We’re finding our own way.

And when our time’s at an ending, when our days are no more. Please bury us with our hurley by the River Dissour.

Killeagh, la, la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la. La-la, la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la-la.

Stayin’ Alive

07 Sunday Dec 2025

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To have faith is to trust yourself to the water. When you swim you don’t grab hold of the water, because if you do you will sink and drown. Instead you relax, and float.
Alan Watts

Pádraig is going to a pool as often as possible. It’s one of our favourite days of the week.

He stands, he walks with a little assistance, and he floats. He really enjoys his time in the water.

For the first time since his accident, he recently relaxed so much that he managed to float on the water just by himself and just supported by a “swim noodle” under his arms and legs.

It was an impressive and a massive first. There were no uncontrolled movements, no spasms, just pure and balance.

Staying Alive

Feel the city breakin’ and everybody shakin’; And we’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive.

This weekend I am at a seminar for parents of those with a brain injury. I’ve been going to them for some year now. They are organised by the ZNS Foundation and they are completely free.

I got to know a few parents by no. When I am back in Germany, getting a bit of a distance helps me to see our situation at home more clearly. I am always learning something new.

This weekend’s seminar took place in Bad Bevendsen, a smalll sleepy spa town in the north of Germany , but a town with a difference.

The local cultural and music association run concerts and events that are out of this world. This weekend, there was a concert by a band that played the best of disco and Motown music.

Germans go dancing. Even Germans over 50. And the place was packed.

One of the best songs of the night the band played was Staying Alive.

What a powerful message on the eve of the second Sunday of Advent.