Shining lights in the darkness

Rarely have I been so proud of the four main sports teams who represent my city and county as I was this week . . . and none of them had to kick or hit a ball.

This is my second year to volunteer to organise the Darkness Into Light 5km walk for Pieta House in Galway and on Wednesday night I was simply blown away by the humility of the men who represent our county and province with pride.

The Galway city DIL committee was tasked with hosting a launch on behalf of all nine walks in the county this year and none of us could have dreamed of the cooperation we received from people who have busy sporting lives.

Galway and Connacht teams might not always have the greatest successes, but the people who lead them should make us all feel truly proud.

Connacht Rugby manager Pat Lam at the DIL launch

Both the managers of Connacht Rugby and Galway United were keen to get involved as soon as they heard our launch was to raise awareness of suicide prevention, while the hurlers and footballers sent along some of their bright young stars. 

Their speeches were, quite simply, phenomenal and gave more than a modicum of hope that our culture is changing when it comes to us men and how we discuss our problems, lows, and fears.

These people might run out at Croke Park or the Aviva Stadium in front of 80,000 or 50,000 fans, but they are subjected to the same kinds of frustrations, fears, down days, and vulnerabilities which make us all human.

Connacht Rugby manager Pat Lam spoke from the heart about the loss of a friend to suicide. 

He described how his wife had walked the Darkness Into Light 5k in Salthill last year and how the Connacht management team would keep the Galway walk in their minds, even if they will be miles away, preparing for a game in Italy.

Lam, a New Zealander, made it so clear why he has become a hugely popular figure during his relatively short time in Galway. 

He talked about the importance of how the players shake hands with each other whenever they meet up. They know how important it is for each and every one of them to connect and look out for each other.

Galway United manager Tommy Dunne joked that he had not worn a suit in four years. 

But he had an even more moving message about a former team-mate who took his own life while playing professional football in Scandinavia.

He described how sad he felt that he had not spotted the warning signs.

There and then, he decided that the Galway United players would warm-up for their next home game in bright yellow Darkness Into Light t-shirts. For the derby against Sligo Rovers, he wanted to highlight the importance of suicide prevention. He brought some people in the room at the Galway Bay Hotel to tears.

He said a manager’s task can involve “reading” players, evaluating who is in good form or confident ahead of a big game. But he referred to how much more there is to life than just being up for a game.

Next up was Galway hurler David Collins, who was only given about ten minutes’ notice when asked to make a contribution on behalf of the GAA.

Instead of complaining abou the short notice, he said he had no problem speaking about a cause which was close to his heart.

Within minutes, he moved most of us present in the room to tears.

He spoke about the pain of losing a team-mate, Niall Donoghue, in 2013. Niall was a gifted young man who played alongside him in front of 80,000 people in an All-Ireland final and replay just over a year before.

David said most of us have no idea of what it’s like to play in such massive games. Within the members of the panel themselves, players often have no idea what’s going on in each others’ lives.

He said that not a day goes by when the members of the Galway senior hurling panel don't think about their former team-mate.

All three speeches were stunning; all three showed that the stigma attached to talking about suicide and depression is being tackled at the highest level by people involved in sport.

It was so uplifting to see Irish men, sporting heroes, talking honestly about mental health and the support available.

They showed that even people with amazing jobs, top level sports people, know the pain involved when someone they love takes their own life. 

Footballers, hurlers and rugby players are no different from the rest of us . . . they know what it’s like to experience pain or loss in their home, family, community, or even the dressing-room.

Galway hurler David Collins, who made an amazing speech

They left all nine Co Galway committees with a bit more of a spring in their step as they continue the countdown to the Darkness Into Light event in the early hours of Saturday, May 9.

When people in such wonderful positions can speak so eloquently about the pain of loss, there really is hope for us all. On Wednesday night, our sporting heroes did the people of Galway and Connacht a huge favour by shining some light into the darkness.

They told us all to look out for each other, which is the theme of this year's walk.

The guest speakers sure shattered the myth of the "macho" sportsmen, too proud or tough to talk about their problems. 

And they left many of us feeling inspired.

http://dil.pieta.ie

Good news at a time of renewal and change

On the first day of Spring, with a longer stretch evident in the evenings, renowned Shaman Midie Corcoran asked a group of us to pass through a giant St Bridget’s Belt to mark the passing of Winter and the hope of renewal which comes with this time of year.

As I left the weekly meditation class, I realised the depression which had gripped me through much of the Winter had all but disappeared. My health was improving and it was great to share my hopes for better fortune with a wonderful group of people as we marked the start of February.

Sometimes life works in mysterious ways. Since taking voluntary redundancy from the Connacht Tribune I have had surgery twice on a serious shoulder injury, had to visit the public health nurses about 70 times since Halloween, and found myself gripped by fear through the dark winter months.

Instead of taking up a job I had been promised, but which subsequently fell through, or helping out the poor of Nicaragua – where I found such fulfilment four years ago – I found myself facing my demons in wintry Galway with a lot of time on my hands.

People had read my blog and said I was too hard on myself, which I definitely was. And sometimes, in the midst of pain and suffering, it really is hard to believe that everything happens for a reason.

But now I’m convinced of it. The start of a new life after 22 years in the same job did not mean I had to run away to the other side of the world, much as I love travelling and experiencing different cultures. Not straight away, anyways. Perhaps I needed time to face the fears I had avoided by being busy for so long. 

When you have a crazy, busy life, like I had, you may never have time to really look at yourself in the mirror. Rushing from job to gym to social event, which is the life of a busy journalist, can mean there is little time for taking stock or recognising what’s really important in life.

Over Christmas, I was delighted to meet old friends, but I also wallowed in self-pity over the troublesome shoulder and the fact that I no longer had a job. It was probably a good thing that all the antibiotics kept me off the demon drink!

I almost had to reach rock bottom to realise the importance of living for today, right here, right now, rather than worrying about what life will be like in six months or a year.

I hit a low point when I applied for a job which was far too similar to the one I’d left, simply because I wanted to stay in the comfort zone. As the wind howled and the rain poured down two weeks ago, I began to feel sorry for myself.

At times like that, it’s hard to reach out and engage with the world. Friends and family might not even realise how much they helped to lift me out of the Winter blues.

Then I remembered the dignity of friends like Karl and Liam, friends who have tackled far more serious health issues than I have with far more bravery than me over a much longer period of time.

Over the past few days, since the start of Spring, I have come to realise that leaving the ‘safe harbour’ could yet become the best decision I ever made. It’s a chance for growth, for change, and there is nothing fulfilling about staying in the same place for too long, even if being unemployed or self-employed can be scary at times.

On the second day of Spring, I jumped out of bed. The Public Health Nurse who had seen me most over the past three months had made an appointment for me, even though there was no onus on her to see me since the second operation two weeks ago.

After knocking me out cold, the surgeon had given me the kind of stitches which dissolve by themselves. But she wanted to make sure everything was ok after seeing me wallow in despair for a few weeks.

On a bright Monday morning, she had great news. It looked as though the injured cyst, which caused a serious infection, had finally healed. Two more weeks and I might even be back in the swimming pool for the first time since Halloween. As I left the clinic, I was on Cloud Nine.

Then I went for an interview for a ten week course, which is all about starting an online business. It will give me skills in Search Engine Optimisation, pay per click, and website design, exactly the kind of skills I will need after leaving the regional newspaper behind. 

And the course is allowing me to meet a wonderful mixture of people from a variety of backgrounds, all seeking to change their lives and careers. Looking at them, seeing how keen they all are to learn, has brought it home to me that there should be no stigma attached to being unemployed.

One lady told me she had been made redundant three times. Change, and how we cope with it, is fundamental to all our lives.

I now know that I will be in Galway for the next 12 weeks and the course has given me just the focus I need as I start to move on with my life. Nicaragua can wait, while I sort myself out and come to terms with how much anxiety the redundancy and shoulder injury brought up in me over the past few months.

On the same afternoon, a person I had admired from a distance for years met me for coffee to talk about changing careers. He gave me so much wonderful advice and wanted nothing in return. He, like nurse Joanne, reminded me that there is so much goodness in people if you only ask them for a helping hand.

Afterwards, I walked the fabulous Salthill promenade, revelling in the extra bit of sunlight and the flat calm sea. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that I was not in Nicaragua or Thailand this winter. I was enjoying a wonderful walk in my home town and filled with gratitude for the uncertain life and new adventures which lie ahead.

Yes, three months of pain, antibiotics, and daily visits to the clinic were not part of the post-redundancy plan. But they taught me so much about my own fears and frustrations that they may really stand to me in the long-term. 

They also taught me to never, ever forget that good health should never be taken for granted. It’s far more important than a job or career.

We all have magic inside us, but it’s hard to find the magic if you spend your life rushing from job to gym to gig, or flying off to escape in the sun.

Spring is in the air and, instead of rushing off to save the world in Central America (much as I’d love to yet), the freak shoulder accident and subsequent surgery have taught me so much about appreciating what I already have in my life.

I might never get a chance to spend wintry Wednesday afternoons hanging out with my elderly parents or two year old nephew again. I might never get a chance to hook up with unemployed friends for leisurely coffees and chats down by the sea.

So January has come to an end. It is hard to imagine how dark and bleak Winter in Ireland was for our ancestors in the days before the electrification of the countryside. No wonder they used to dance with joy when St Bridget’s Day arrived.

Happy Springtime . . . the Winter was long enough this year, but dark days are necessary in order to appreciate the light.

After three months of pain and self-pity, this was a very good week.