Every year on 17 March, something quite extraordinary happens. People who have never set foot in Ireland, can’t locate Dublin on a map, and whose family tree is firmly rooted in suburban Australia, suddenly announce, with great confidence, that they are “actually a little bit Irish.” St Patrick’s Day has arrived!
The evidence is everywhere. The sky turns suspiciously green (or perhaps that’s just the reflection from novelty hats). Pubs overflow with people wearing shamrock sunglasses, leprechaun beards, and T-shirts declaring “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” — often worn by people who would recoil in horror if kissed by a stranger on any other day of the year.
I do, however, have some legitimate claim. My grandmother was Irish, which means I feel fully entitled, once a year, to lean into the festivities. I’ve always loved Irish culture, particularly Irish dancing. There is something mesmerising about the rhythm, the speed, and the sheer seriousness of dancers whose upper bodies barely move while their feet appear to be possessed.
From a psychological perspective, St Patrick’s Day is fascinating. It’s a perfect example of what we call social permission. On this one day, it’s not only acceptable but encouraged to be loud, silly, sentimental, and mildly ridiculous. You’re allowed to sing songs you don’t know the words to, hug people you met three minutes ago, and feel deeply connected to strangers because you all happen to be wearing green. There’s something oddly comforting about that.
Plenty of people mark the day in quieter ways: cooking something vaguely Irish, listening to music, watching Irish dancing on YouTube, or simply enjoying the collective light-heartedness of it all. There’s also a surprising sense of nostalgia that creeps in. St Patrick’s Day tends to make people think about heritage, family stories, and the comforting idea of belonging somewhere.
And then there’s the luck thing. Four-leaf clovers, pots of gold, and the comforting belief that maybe, just maybe, something good is around the corner. Psychologically speaking, hope is incredibly powerful. Even symbolic hope.
In Canberra, it’s a day where public servants, students, parents, and retirees briefly unite under the shared banner of mild chaos and festive cheer.
The wellbeing takeaway? We underestimate the mental health value of joy, playfulness, and connection. Sometimes it’s as simple as laughing at yourself, sharing a moment with others, or giving yourself permission to enjoy something just because it’s fun. These small moments of lightness matter, they reduce stress, strengthen connection, and remind our nervous systems that not everything is urgent or serious.
So whether you’re Irish, “a bit Irish,” or just Irish for the duration of a lunch break, St Patrick’s Day invites us to loosen our grip just a little. To celebrate joy in small, slightly silly ways.
And if that joy involves Irish dancing, green food colouring, and questionable fashion choices — may the luck of the Irish be with us all. 🍀
