The Real Luck of the Irish: Understanding the True Meaning of St. Patrick’s Day

March 17th is often a day of performance. Rivers are dyed emerald, people excavate shamrock-covered sweaters from the back of closets, and somewhere, a plastic leprechaun hat appears on someone who absolutely did not plan to wear one that morning. For many, it’s a holiday centered around crowded bars and beverages of questionable origin.

But I’ve been thinking about a different kind of celebration lately. My father-in-law used to wear a full green suit on St. Patrick’s Day. Not a green shirt with plausible deniability—a full suit, jacket, and pants. The man didn't do half-measures. He doesn't wear the suit anymore, but every year, we still celebrate together. I’ve realized that he didn't lose his spirit; he just outgrew the need for the costume. He taught me that you can honor something sacred without the performance, and that the true meaning of St Patrick's Day is an internal shift toward resilience, not just an external display.

The True Meaning of St Patrick's Day: From Kidnapping to Calling

The original story behind this day—the life of St. Patrick himself—has very little to do with green beer. He was a teenager from Roman Britain who was kidnapped by raiders and taken to Ireland as a slave. For six years, he worked as a shepherd, isolated and alone. Eventually, he escaped—only to return years later voluntarily to the very people who had enslaved him.

I think many of us have had a "kidnapped" season—a time where we felt stuck in circumstances we never would have chosen. In my early 20s, I lived my own version of this. I was trapped in a job I hated, surrounded by demeaning people, and I felt utterly stuck. Back then, I thought I had to hustle every second just to stay afloat. My nervous system was constantly overstressed, living for the temporary "high" of getting a deal, only to be met by a crushing "low" immediately after. I was exhausted all the time, and I didn't yet realize that I was being kidnapped by a version of success that was actually making me sick.

When your nervous system only relaxes when you "win," you aren't winning—you're just surviving the intervals between the stress.

The Voluntary Return: Choosing the Field (and the People)

Most people would spend the rest of their lives avoiding the place that caused them suffering. St. Patrick did the opposite. He escaped the literal chains of his youth, only to return years later as a free man with a mission.

I’ve found that true healing often looks like this "voluntary return." For me, that meant returning to the world of sales—the very industry that once kept me in survival mode—but doing it on my own terms. Back then, I was a slave to the deal, white-knuckling my way through every transaction and letting demeaning people dictate my peace of mind.

Today, I am not a slave to the deal. I pick and choose exactly what I want to work on, and who I want to work with. If someone is disrespectful, demeaning, or rude, I don’t spiral into a shame cycle or force myself to endure it for the sake of a percentage. Instead, I listen to my body, take a breath, and gently suggest that we are not a good fit.

The return isn't about revisiting the pain; it’s about standing in the same field and realizing that this time, you’re the one who holds the keys to the gate.

Driving Out the Snakes: Reclaiming Your Worth

The legend says Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland. While historians suggest this is symbolic of old traditions fading, it is a powerful metaphor for our internal landscape. Lately, I’ve been "snake driving" by clearing out the toxic, deep-seated belief that I am not worthy of respect, or that I have to put up with demeaning treatment just to be successful.

Driving out these internal "snakes" is a somatic necessity; it’s about deciding that certain behaviors—both your own and those of others—no longer have a home in your life. It is a physical boundary that says: This ends here.

A Simple Snake-Driving Practice

If you're ready to embrace the true meaning of St Patrick's Day by clearing out internal snakes, try this:

1. Identify: Write down one belief or behavior pattern that no longer serves you. Be specific. Instead of "I need more confidence," try "I accept disrespectful treatment because I'm afraid of being difficult."

   
   

2. Declare: On a piece of paper, write: "This no longer has a home here."

   
   

3. Release: Tear it up. Throw it away. Your nervous system needs the somatic release, the physical act of "driving it out," not just the intellectual understanding.

Resilience vs. Luck: What They Don't See

We often hear about the "luck of the Irish," but when you look at the history of hardship and survival, luck isn't the right word. Resilience is. It’s the same in business. When people see success, they call it luck because they weren't there for the gritty reality.

They didn't see the blood, sweat, and tears. They didn't see the moments of betrayal and heartbreak, or the hard work that resulted in absolutely nothing. They don't see the money you invest into a client who might walk away without a word.

Luck is the word people use when they didn't watch you survive the winter. 

The Somatic Spring: Tiny Green Shoots

St. Patrick’s Day sits right on the edge of spring, where nature has its own rhythm of renewal. Sometimes life looks quiet—or even stalled—for a long time before something new begins to grow. Right now, my body and my business don't feel like a full-bloom garden, and that’s okay.

I see many tiny green shoots—new projects and ideas that are just starting to push through the soil. A dear friend of mine, who recently navigated a massive, unexpected career pivot after her entire industry shifted, always understood this. She knew that continuing forward, even when life takes you somewhere you never planned to go, is how you eventually reach the bloom.

These shoots could result in beautiful flowers, or they might just stay small for a while longer. This is Penguin Waddle Theory at its finest—slow, ungraceful, but consistently forward. You don't sprint into spring. You waddle. And that's not just okay; it's actually how sustainable growth works.

The Evolution of Celebration: When You Don't Need the Suit

Watching my father-in-law honor a tradition without needing to announce it loudly taught me that the deepest commitment is the one that doesn't need external validation.

When I was younger, I thought if I wasn't grinding publicly, I wasn't really working. I thought celebration required spectacle, and healing required dramatic transformation stories. But now I know that some seasons require the "full green suit"—the loud declaration and the visible effort. But other seasons? They require you to know your worth without the suit. To celebrate quietly because the meaning has moved from external to internal.

The luck of the Irish isn't luck at all. It's survival. It's resilience. It's the decision to keep going when every logical reason says to quit. So here's to the tiny green shoots, the voluntary returns, and the courage to honor your season fully—green suit optional. 🍀

About the Author | Day 76

On Day 76 of my 365-day journey toward radical authenticity, I am a human being in progress, learning to honor both the green-suit seasons and the quiet ones. My work sits at the intersection of somatic healing and honest storytelling, born from "blood, sweat, and tears" and the hard-won wisdom of choosing a different path. I believe that our most painful chapters often provide the map for our greatest contributions. Whether I’m navigating the beautiful chaos of motherhood, driving out my own internal snakes, or learning from a father-in-law who understands that celebration can deepen even as the costume disappears, I am here to remind you that renewal is always possible—one small shoot at a time.

Thank you for being part of this journey toward renewal, resilience, and collective light, Dear Reader. ❤️