Well, I don’t know how it came around so quickly, but here we are again, that special time of year when Ireland’s teenagers turn into zombified versions of their former selves as they cram in as much information as they can in the last few days of school. Leaving and Junior Cert season – the Hunger Games of education. 

I speak from personal experience. I have my third child now about to go through the trials of the Leaving Cert. I often think that having older siblings who performed well is a cruel added pressure to have to bear. If having to do the exams isn’t bad enough, you often feel this added pressure to live up to what others have achieved. Which is crazy, because you aren’t your brother or sister: you are you, with your skills, interests and your own value. I often think that one of the best things that any of us parents can do around this time, is to make sure that our child is not weighed down by family expectations – they have enough pressures that they are already heaping on themselves.

To anyone doing an exam this summer – however well you do, you are not defined by your academic achievements. You are a valuable and complex, multi-faceted human being with unique strengths, talents and intrinsic value that no exam can measure. While doing your best is admirable, don’t let exam pressure diminish your spark.  

Set realistic goals and be ambitious, but also be compassionate with yourself. Missed a study session? Couldn’t concentrate? That’s okay – simply refocus and try again. Celebrate small wins along the way. Every bit of effort counts. 

Remember that every previous generation went through this too, and they made it out the other side. What kinds of advice would those generations likely give you now, as they look back?

1. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you exams don’t matter. They matter not because of results, but because they give you a chance to push yourself and stretch yourself. Everything we do is a chance to grow and become stronger human beings.  
2. Schedule some breaks away from the books. Your brain needs breathing room to let stuff sink in. Get outside, kick a ball, pursue other interests. Recharging is as valuable as studying, because it keeps you fresh and alert. 
3. Be organised, but don’t become a prisoner to a rigid revision timetable. Spontaneity and changing things up can be healthy. 
4. Ask for help when you need it. People want you to succeed. Asking for support can lighten the burden. (And parents, remember that supporting doesn’t mean adding excessive pressure. Provide a listening ear, advice when requested, and comfort when needed.) 
5. Get enough sleep! Self-care isn’t just a buzzword, it’s essential for peak performance. 

Most importantly, keep some perspective. Of course, your exams are important. But they’re not the be-all-and-end-all that they can feel like right now. You’ve got your whole life ahead to experience in new, exciting ways, regardless of what happens over the next month. 

To my own son and to anyone doing exams over the next while, you’ve got this! One exam at a time. In the grand scheme of your remarkable life journey, this is just a short-term hurdle. Believe in yourself, and you’ll make it through stronger and wiser. 

I’ve recently emerged from an intense two-week period, diving deep into knowledge shared by leading experts. Yet, the instant just before this photo was captured encapsulates one of the most profound lessons and moments of gratitude I’ve experienced.

Allow me to introduce you to Annick. She was a teenager during the outbreak of the genocide against Tutsis in Rwanda in 1994, a time marked by civil war fuelled by long-standing divisions and the incitement of hatred. In a span of just 100 days, an estimated 800,000 to one million Tutsis, a social and ethnic minority, were brutally murdered by government forces, militias, and even ordinary citizens. This atrocity saw neighbours turning against neighbours, with many victims being slaughtered in their own communities, often sought out in places they sought refuge, like churches and schools. 

Tragically, Annick lost her parents and eight of her nine siblings to the genocide. At just 12, she found herself hiding alone in the bushes, surviving not only those horrifying 100 days but also the decades of severe challenges and torment that followed. 

During this dark period in Rwanda, I was 25 and volunteering with Concern Worldwide, supporting Rwandan refugee camps on the Rwanda-Tanzania border. I encountered many teenagers with stories similar to Annick’s in those camps. However, it wasn’t until sitting beside her at the Maxwell Leadership conference a few days ago, listening to her story, that I fully grasped the extent of the ongoing hardship many endured long after I had returned to Ireland. 

Reflecting on my meeting with Annick, I realize the deep debt of gratitude I owe her and her nation for the life-altering lessons learned. These lessons—on values, humanity, the fortune we have in Ireland, and the essence of life—have profoundly influenced me, inspiring the launch of LIFT Ireland in 2018 and shaping my actions today. 

Acknowledging that my personal growth came at the cost of Annick’s suffering is difficult to accept. I’m immensely grateful to Annick for reigniting within me a sense of humility and empathy, and I’m honoured to call her my friend. 

Rwanda’s experience—a devastating genocide driven by neighbour against neighbour and the incitement of hatred—serves as a stark reminder of the consequences of division.

While it’s not in my character to be overly dramatic, I’m compelled to emphasise the urgency of prioritising what truly matters: respect, empathy, listening, integrity, kindness, fairness, and embracing diversity. This is vital rather than dwelling on our differences, whether they stem from beliefs, opinions, political leanings, socioeconomic disparities, cultural backgrounds, or even our stances on contemporary issues like climate change, immigration, and healthcare reforms. In Ireland, as in many places around the world, these topics can deepen divisions, fostering an environment of us versus them. Yet, it’s these very moments that remind us of the importance of coming together, focusing on our shared humanity and the common ground that unites us, rather than the rifts that threaten to separate us. 

I understand that I cannot change others; I can only change myself. Yet, I am committed to sharing my journey of reinforcing values and behaviours that affirm my respect for all humanity. Though I may not always get it right and frequently need to course-correct, my goal is to continually strive for improvement. If you’re interested in joining me and thousands of others in Ireland on this journey, I invite you to connect with us at LIFT Ireland – info@liftireland.ie. 

My daughter moved to another city late last year. It was totally new to her, and other than a couple of acquaintances, she really didn’t know anyone there. New university, new classmates, new town to find her way around. That’s often a nerve-wracking experience for many people and I think she was no different. 

But she threw herself into it, and after a few weeks of finding her feet, she started to settle. One of things she did to keep herself occupied was that she started running. Small jogs at first, just to feel that she was doing something proactive to get fit. She’s a determined person when she gets something in her head, so her runs became almost daily events. She had no interest in racing or running competitively but she loved the energy that seemed to come after a half-hour running in the open air.  

She was talking about this with a classmate: how running for its own sake, at your own pace, for your own reasons, without the need to worry about times or placing, is what most people want from running. That conversation gave rise to an idea – how about putting up an Instagram post to see if there are others who’d be interested in joining up to go for a run one day a week and finishing with a coffee or a smoothie somewhere local. So that’s what the two girls did – just to see if anyone might be interested. That was 5 weeks ago. The Runday Club Cork Instagram page now has nearly 2,000 followers. Last Sunday, nearly 70 people turned up for their 5th weekly run – 70 people who were delighted that someone had taken a simple step and said ‘let’s give this a try’.  

The reason I mention this is that it all arose from a simple conversation and two people being willing to push themselves a little bit out of their comfort zones. 

In LIFT, we have seen something similar. If you live in the area around Drogheda, you might have started to hear the word LIFT being mentioned in conversations. If so, it is likely that if you traced those conversations back, you might find that one name kept coming up. Karen Devine is a long-time supporter of, and facilitator with, LIFT. She has seen the power of LIFT in building self-leadership and promoting behaviour change in her own life. And that is why she decided to take it on herself to ‘LIFT Drogheda’. 

Karen just put it out there – ‘I’m going to be running LIFT Autumn Roundtables online in the community. Would anyone like to join me?’. The response was incredible, with over 100 people signing up. So incredible in fact that some of LIFT’s own team had to row in to help facilitate the roundtables, such was the demand. 

Why did Karen decide to start lifting her community? The idea started because Karen herself had seen so much personal benefit since she became involved with LIFT. As she says; “Lift has had a tremendous impact on me personally. Traditionally at October, November time of year, I would get quite burnt out and exhausted. And my way of coping was to work harder. So, I dug myself deeper and deeper into a hole. And as I got older, it took longer and longer to come out the other side.  

The big thing with LIFT was the commitment I made to myself every week to look at how I was leading myself. If I’d had a good week, I got to reflect and celebrate and learn from the things that I’d done well. And if it had been a bad week, I’d be able to put a line in the sand, take the learning and move forward with a fresh approach.  

So for me, it had a huge personal impact in how I lead myself [and] a massive impact on my overall wellbeing and my overall ability to care for, support and lead others… On a professional level, LIFT taught me how to lead well and how to identify those core values that were strategically important to me. I saw it as a really useful tool that I could share with others and help them to lead themselves better as well.” 

Following her call out for willing participants, Karen herself ended up running 5 LIFT Autumn Roundtables each week for 10 weeks. Some of the participants she already knew, others she didn’t. But they all had one thing in common – As Karen says: “The people who participated in the roundtables are all leaders in their own way, in different parts of the community, and what I wanted and hoped to achieve from this was to allow them to be braver, to step into their own leadership roles, and to be able to accelerate change and progress within the sphere of influence that they have. We are all leaders in our own sphere of influence. Sometimes we just don’t realise it”. 

This idea that LIFT allows people to find their inner leader was one that was shared by many of Karen’s first-time participants. As one said, “I think no matter what age you are, it’s very rare that people take the time to think about leadership as a concept”. Taking that time allowed participants to appreciate their own leadership role. This is illustrated by one of Karen’s other participants who said that since doing the LIFT roundtables she’s no longer “afraid to go for that leadership role”. She’s open to putting herself forward now, whereas previously she might have left it to others.  

Perhaps this idea that LIFT allows people to uncover aspects of their own leadership is best illustrated by Karen herself. Despite taking on this project in her community at the tail end of the year, when normally she is at her most run down, she decided to go for it. She decided to pay LIFT forward to allow others to start to benefit the way that she had. And what was the result? One result was numerous seeds of positive leadership sown in her community, as participants were helped to see the potential in their own spheres of influence. The other result was a personal one for Karen – as her husband noticed, she now had “more energy than you’ve ever had at this time of the year”.  

The lesson is simple. It doesn’t matter who we are or where we come from. We all have power to lift ourselves and the people around us. And when our intentions are good, we usually find that there are lots of others who share them. Those people will nearly always be delighted that someone has taken that first step, so give it a try. 

(And if you’d like to introduce LIFT to your community, just contact us. We’d be delighted to help). 

Not too long ago I met a friend at a work event. He is someone that I don’t meet very often but whose company you cannot help but enjoy. By any measure, I would describe him as very successful: he’s incredibly well respected in his field, he has a very senior job, he’s charismatic, always impeccably groomed, and hugely liked. I say this only to explain why I was so surprised when he turned to me at one point and said that he envied me. 

How could that be, I thought? I have never been particularly career-oriented, am generally not impeccably groomed, am uncomfortable in many social situations, and my charisma level might be described as low average at best. What could I have that might inspire envy in others?  

The answer, as so often is the case of course, is that he envied in me the characteristics that he didn’t see in himself. Most specifically, he envied what he saw as my ability to find joy and meaning in ordinary things. Things like clearing an overgrown patch of garden, or continuing the traditions of Halloween games my mother used to play with us when we were younger. For my friend, meaning was intertwined with ambition and striving, while I think he perhaps saw in me a more simple, and perhaps less ambitious, approach to finding meaning in life. If he knew me better, of course, he might not envy me so much – we all have our issues and challenges. But even given this caveat, I do think that there is an element of truth to his observation.  

I’ve been reading a lot of Ellen Langer’s work recently. She is the Harvard psychologist who, over decades, has pioneered research around mindfulness. This isn’t the same as mindful or Eastern meditation, which has such a strong focus on being aware of one’s emotions and thoughts and then letting them go. Rather, Langer’s idea of mindfulness is to actively engage with each moment, being aware of the meaning, possibility and options that that moment offers.  

I like this idea: the idea that everything we do can be done automatically, by rote and mindlessly; or alternatively can be done actively and with awareness. Everything can be done in multiple ways, which means that every moment offers us choices that give us control over our lives. Nothing is too small – every moment and every choice makes a difference. This way of thinking can turn walking in the rain from a hardship to a sensory joy; can change helping with a child’s homework from being a tiresome drudge to an opportunity to build relationships, trust and memories. We can all work to engage with the present moment. It’s done by means slowing down to actively make ourselves aware and conscious of every decision, thought and emotion, to realise that there are other ways of thinking and feeling, and that how we choose to think and behave now is important. 

There is a phrase that has been going around in my head since I was a teenager. I had always believed in what I called the virtue of simplicity, but I was never able to put my finger on exactly what I meant.  

Reading Langer has made this a lot clearer for me. I think that what I meant was that so many of us make life out to be more complex than it needs to be. We look to the future; focus on future goals; strive for bigger and better. But in doing so we allow ourselves to become mindless about the present, as though it doesn’t matter and is only a stepping stone towards that future. This is even moreso the case if our present reality is the mundane – making dinner; filling out forms; getting kids to school.  

The truth, in my view, is very different.  

Everything about this moment matters, because this moment is all we have. 

There’s a driveway in front of my house. Anyone who looked at it over the last year might have been forgiven for thinking that perhaps nobody lived here – every single cobblestone had become grown over with moss, and every crack between them had become home to multiple small weeds. I have to take full responsibility – I did notice this problem as it was sprouting. But noticing it and doing something about it are two very different things!

Months passed as this unintentional rewilding of my driveway continued. I saw it but I did nothing about it. Cognitive dissonance is the psychological discomfort that arises from holding conflicting beliefs – in my case I avoided this discomfort by pretending that the driveway actually looked fine. It’s amazing how easily I can fool myself when I want to.

As the seasons turned, a decision finally took root alongside the flourishing moss and sprouting grass on my cobbled driveway. Perhaps it was the crisp bite of autumn air that invigorated my resolve, or maybe the subtle realisation that the unruly green was a metaphor for letting things slide a bit too far. Whatever the catalyst, it led me on a journey to Woodies DIY, where among the aisles of paint and tools, I found my implement of change: a shovel.

This shovel wasn’t destined for grand gestures or heroic undertakings. Its blade, sharp and unyielding, was chosen for the meticulous task of reclaiming order from chaos, one cobblestone at a time. And so, with a sense of purpose, I began the slow dance of restoration. The sharp edge of the shovel became an extension of my will, methodically scraping out the moss and earth nestled between the stones. Each stroke was a small victory, each cleared crevice a reclaimed territory in a war measured not in conquests but in persistence.

I never aimed to conquer the driveway in a day. Instead, I adopted a strategy of increments. Every departure and return to and from home was marked by a few minutes dedicated to freeing a few more cobblestones from their weedy invaders. The task became a ritual, punctuated by the sound of metal scraping against stone.

Weeks turned into months, and the transformation was as gradual as the growth that had given rise to it. Yet, each day, a few more stones would emerge, clean and vibrant against the setting sun. The area by the door was the first to enjoy the fruits of my labour. Then, a pathway unfolded, tracing steps to the car and, in time, weaving all the way to the gate and around to the side of the house.

What was once a mosaic of green and brown gave way to the rich, dark red of the cobbles, almost like new but with the added character of effort and time. The weeds and grass, once rampant, were now a memory, replaced by the order and beauty of well-tended craftsmanship. It was a transformation not just of the ground beneath my feet, but of the mindset that guided my daily life.

This driveway stood as a testament to the power of perseverance. It was a reminder that the greatest changes come not from the sweeping gestures but from the sum of small, consistent actions. In the grand tapestry of life, each thread weaves a pattern, and each moment is an opportunity for improvement, one small step at a time. It’s not the giant leaps that define our progress, but the ability to make a little difference, over and over again, until the picture is complete.

And so, as I stand back and admire my work, a new pattern emerges. The driveway, once a symbol of neglect, is now a canvas displaying the fruits of determination and the understated elegance of patience. It reminds us that even when the task seems insurmountable, a steady hand and a willing heart can turn the tide, one cobblestone at a time.

On Saturday night last my wife and I sat in the living room glued to our seats as we watched the final moments of Ireland against New Zealand. Her knuckles had turned white as she gripped the side of the chair. Words that I didn’t even think she knew were being uttered quick and fast as the tension rose, as Ireland slowly moved up the pitch phase after phase towards the New Zealand line, but phase after phase being repelled. New Zealand were forced to make 100 tackles in the last 20 minutes of that match. Every tackle brought the man to the ground. Yet Ireland still held on to the ball, no mistakes were made, and crept closer to the try line inch by inch. Eventually something had to give and unfortunately for Ireland the final decision favoured the New Zealanders and with that the quarterfinal was over and our dreams of a World Cup were gone.

“It’s just not fair. The five best teams in the competition all on one side of the draw. Ireland would have walked through to the semifinal if they had been on the other side of the draw. This game should have been the final.” So said my wife the rugby expert. All of these things were, of course, absolutely true. Writing this on the Monday after the match I can only think about what Ireland would have done if we had been playing either England or Argentina instead of New Zealand. Still be smiling and we’d still be thinking of what might be. My wife looked at me after the match on Saturday. She couldn’t understand why I was so calm. She has good reason to be curious – I’m a long time Ireland rugby fan and I can recall the days when success might have meant avoiding the wooden spoon in the Six Nations, never mind coming within a whisker of defeating New Zealand in the World Cup. She recalls the time when Ireland played France in Lansdowne Rd. We were winning the game – within touching distance of the first win against France since the early 1970s. Then in the last couple of minutes, Vincent Clerc broke through to score and break our hearts again. My wife remembers that I didn’t talk for a week. So how was I able to be so calm when we were so close to what could have been a World Cup winning experience?

I think that perhaps it’s just me getting older. It’s also perhaps me learning something about resilience. One of the keys to bouncing back from setbacks is to focus on something that we can actually control. Sport has the ability to give us so many incredible highs. Unfortunately, when these highs are only achieved as a spectator, we put ourselves in the hands of others. Our emotional high depends on the performance of our team. We have no control over that.

I said this to my 15 year old son who was distraught after the match. He has two Gaelic football finals coming up in the next month or so. Those games may be smaller in comparison to the Rugby World Cup, but they offer him the chance to actively contribute and potentially create for himself those highs. I decided to try and calm him by letting him in on this insight. “Don’t let it affect your mood”, I said. “It’s only sport.”  I looked at him to see the effect of my words. “Listen to you, Gandhi” he said. “We’ll hammer them next time”.

Roll on 2027.

In the heart of every community, you’ll often find a cornerstone that unites people and fosters camaraderie. For many, that cornerstone is sport, and in Ireland, it doesn’t get much more local than the GAA. But what if these platforms could be used for something more, something transformative that extends beyond the pitch? 

Enter Uniquely, a partner organisation of LIFT, who has ambitiously begun embedding LIFT Leadership Roundtables into local GAA clubs. The move aims to not just cultivate sporting ability, but to nurture leaders for tomorrow, armed with robust values and ethics. Today, we explore how Uniquely is making waves in their community through their progressive initiative. 

Tackling Real Issues with Values-Based Coaching 

When asked about the relevancy of LIFT’s themes to GAA, Carol Murphy, Head of Human Resources and Organisational Development at Uniquely passionately shared: “If you look at all of the themes, you can bring it back to being on the pitch, being off the pitch, being on the sideline as a spectator or as a coach, every single element and every single value is just so relevant. My idea of success was for people to be more thoughtful and aware of values when they are coaching young children… It’s about reminding yourself to do the good things every day… these are the values that you want to leave as a legacy to the young people that you coach.” 

The Ripple Effect: A Change in How Coaches Think 

Implementing LIFT’s roundtables has led to a noticeable change in coaching styles and approaches. “I noticed that they were more thoughtful in their reactions, in their approaches to people. It was just the opportunity to just pause and stop together. It was great to have that chance to stop and discuss, and for people to feel comfortable to have those discussions too.” 

And the impact of LIFT doesn’t just stay confined to the playing field. As one roundtable participant, a coach from Eastern Gaels, Deborah Moran noted, “You know it makes you think about things that you actually never think about in real life. Just for example, my daughter last year had an awful job with her phonics and her reading. And you know before I’d be about to lose the head. Where now I say ‘hold on, take a break.’ I’d say ‘go for 5 minutes of a break and come back’. You deal with things in a different way when you sit down and think about it.” 

Honesty and Integrity: The Bedrock of a Great Team 

When asked about which theme had the most impact, the answer was immediate: “It was the Honesty & Integrity theme. If everyone’s on the same page and [honest with each other] everything works so much better.” 

The Power of LIFT: A Life-Changing Experience 

Is LIFT merely a good coaching tool, or does it have the potential to change lives? “Big Time! It changes your whole life. We’ve had the best few weeks doing LIFT and everyone learned something. One girl, probably in transition year or maybe in 5th year, she was very shy when she started but by the end of it she seemed [so comfortable and confident]. Everyone had a story of their own. Your head is in a different place.” 

The enthusiasm for LIFT has been remarkable, and the recommendation was unreserved: “I didn’t just like it, I’m saying I would highly recommend it. I’d highly recommend anyone do LIFT because it’s just brilliant… It will affect every part of your life.” 

As Uniquely takes LIFT’s Leadership Roundtables to their community through GAA, they’re not just building better players—they’re building better leaders, better community members, and ultimately, better human beings. And that, truly, is the essence of sport at its finest. 

As I sat down to pen this, my thoughts meandered back to a blog post I wrote about three years ago. The room was doused in silence, marking the seasonal ritual of ‘back-to-school’. I remember writing about the resilience our children and young adults needed, to navigate the unique challenges posed by that year. 

Fast forward to today, and the world around us has changed, arguably in more ways than we could have ever anticipated. We’ve been through a whirlwind, both in terms of global events and personal journeys, and the lessons from the past hold more weight than ever. 

Amidst this backdrop, the value and opportunity that education presents shines through brightly. Education isn’t merely a medium to pass on knowledge; in this era, it’s an anchor of normalcy, a beacon of hope, and a bridge to our collective future. Yet, as crucial as it is for our young minds to grasp this opportunity, we need to recognize that the essence of individuality means there’s no one-size-fits-all approach. 

Post-COVID, it’s tempting to look for silver linings and project our own experiences and aspirations on our young ones. As students stride into their educational sanctuaries, some may feel invigorated, ready to seize every learning moment, while others might feel overwhelmed, still grappling with the ripples of the pandemic’s aftermath. And that’s okay. 

Remembering that people aren’t forged from a single mould, we, as adults, educators, and guardians, need to resist the urge to expect one single response to schooling. Every student will carry their unique narrative. Some might find solace in the confines of the classroom; others might discover their passions beyond textbooks. 

Empathy is our ally in these times. While resilience was the theme echoed three years ago, today, let’s champion understanding and flexibility. In fostering an environment where our youth can embrace education, in all its hues, we’re not just building a brighter future, but we’re also honouring the individual journeys that make our collective tapestry so rich and vibrant. 

Here’s to a school year filled with opportunities, understanding, and the celebration of diverse paths to success!