Warning! Spoiler alert. Modern day Christmas is the celebration by many of the birth of a special child and celebrated with the death of a tree. The highways are clogged by the exodus of people, family and friends leaving the concrete jungle of the cities and heading for the bush, beach and rivers. Some camp out where the waters run free while back home all water is tightly controlled. Enjoying the simplicity of camping in keyless tents for a few days or weeks while our houses full of prized stuff are locked. And yet the keyless tent brings so much relief and relaxation that we deprive ourselves in our everyday lives as we fiercely hang onto our debt burdened lifestyle. Now, I’m not suggesting that we all rush out and start erecting tent cities …. although the idealist in me is not averse to the idea. However, we can bring the two worlds together so that our wellbeing can be nurtured everyday by a healthy connection to the whenua/land. Right now, many are fueled by emotional adrenaline, sugar highs and the numbing effects of alcohol. There will be a temporary lull as many settle into holiday mode. Soon the crash will come. By January reality will come flooding in when assessment of the financial aftermath can no longer be avoided. By February most of the gifts will be in the landfill. Have you ever thought about the languaging we use when referring to the whenua/land, etc. Legal documents mention natural hazards but never people hazard. Flood protection instead of river protection (kaitiakitanga of the awa). We have become so risk adverse that the amount of paperwork required of organistions wanting to take peopl into the outdoors is often at the cost of going at all. Yet the risks of walking down a busy street in the city are far greater. Not to mention the sensory overload. I just realized that in my children’s lifetime the world was supposed to have ended twice around the Christmas season. The first time it was predicted they were very young children and I decided that we would all sleep together and if it ended then we would die together. Years later in 2012 they were teenagers and when I suggested sleeping in the same room, they all just gave me a look that said ‘you are dying alone tonight Mum’ 😊. Now that I have raised your anxiety levels. May I recommend you take your shoes off to ground/earth yourself or as I like to call it. Having a kōrero with Papatῡᾱnuku through the soles of my feet. Take a deep breath and ask yourself, what can I do? Consider creating a natural sensory box to replace the popular sensory box that is filled with cheap plastic and rubber items with a short life span that is hard to repurpose. When no longer required, everything can be returned to the whenua/land. Include items such as feathers, stones, prickly seed balls and sand.
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I’ve had no fixed abode for one year today and in that time a lot has happened. One of the best decisions I have made. Nothing in life is perfect but I prefer this imperfect life. Instead of mowing lawns. I change the view out the back window if I don’t like it.
My children used to often tell me that ‘less is more’ but only because I would get carried away trying to hide lots of veggies under the blanket of cheese on the pizza. They are right. Less really is more. I have less expenses, use less water, carry less belongings and have less stress which equates to more freedom, more connection to Papatῡᾱnuku and more time for the things I care about. My advice. Listen to that niggle that feels like a small stone in your shoe that you can never find no matter how often you remove your shoes and give it a good shake. Better still take those shoes off! Listen to that inner wisdom! I hear mine when I’m in the ngahere/forest. That’s when they have my full attention. Okay so occasionally they whack me across the face with a small branch or spider web. It was the first place I wanted to go after six weeks in hospital. Recently I was at a venue that was particularly noisy. I suddenly craved the silence of the ngahere/forest. I realized that many of our greatest teachers are like the ngahere/forest. They quietly appear alongside us. They don’t wave a flag or demand our attention. In fact, they don’t do anything other than appear quietly beside us. Sometimes for a fleeting moment and they come in all forms and ages and appearances. Our sixth sense connects us to all life on this earth. We are water, our veins are waterways and our fingerprint resembles the rings of a tree. We are the only species on this earth that pays for the essentials to life. That’s food, shelter and water, yet we claim to be the intelligent ones. Not only do we pay for the right to exist on this earth but we never have enough. We want more and bigger. Even our children’s outdoor playgrounds are devoid of life with artificial play equipment that mimics the natural world. Only a few brave kaitiaki of the whenua are brave enough to set up home in this environment such as the odd spider.
If someone special to you gives you a gift then wouldn’t you cherish it and look after it and have it in pride of place. Most people come from the understanding that their God or Gods created earth and everything you see including us. Why then, are we destroying ourselves and our whare/house. We extract taonga/treasures from Papatῡᾱnuku’s belly, turn them into toxic products and pour them back into her belly which is akin to the food we now eat. What we do to her we do to us. Covid lockdowns re-awakened the pace and connection with earth energy. Nature responded by visiting us in our spaces. We were finally living at nature’s (s)pace. Our essential workers were valued above all else. We realized that at some point we would all require an essential worker at least once in our lifetime. We couldn’t live without them just as we can’t live without the essentials to life. How quickly we forgot as we resumed our consumer paced life. It’s almost like we all got a glimpse into our indigenous souls, especially for those who had forgotten. We are all indigenous to somewhere and we all lived in relationship with the earth and not separate from her at some time in our ancestral line. If, like me, you descend from several indigenous peoples. How I honour my own indigenous people is by honouring the indigenous people of the land that I walk on. My patai/question? Who is looking after the carers? Including the greatest of them all. Our patient, giving, wise and forgiving mother Papatῡᾱnuku! How often are you visiting nature’s (s)pace? Without getting too scientific. Simply put, if trees breathe in (photosynthesis) what we breathe out and we breathe in what they breathe out then technically we are connecting through breath. The relationship is one of giving and receiving. In Te Ao Mᾱori the word ‘aroha’ means love. When broken down ‘aro’ means to face or turn towards and ha means to breathe, taste or essence. Now imagine facing the tree and sharing breath with the energy of aroha/love.
A couple of years ago on a very popular bush walk near suburbia. My daughter, granddaughter and I stumbled across a tree that had not long fallen. It lay resting across the river and parallel to the bridge with the branches embracing the bridge. A friend tells me that it was still standing when they went through five hours earlier. So, I’ve been thinking (only dangerous when thoughts roll off my tongue but here goes). Do trees know when to fall. Eg. How many human witnesses are there? This tree fell within five hours of two walkers that I know of on a popular walking track. Like an animal that goes somewhere quiet to die. We know that trees communicate. Has that tree been told by those ahead that the track is clear and it is safe to rest. Just saying and parking that thought here. When a tree falls it continues to nourish the forest just as I believe our ancestors do. Like trees our stories are hidden within. Only some of our scars are visible but only because they show as physical injury. The true story of the tree and any traumas experienced during its’ lifetime are told by the rings of the tree. It is not uncommon to find a tree that appears to have fallen in its’ younger years and been supported by a neighbouring tree until it was strong enough to carry on its’ journey skyward. Have you ever seen a photo of a tree and you know exactly where that tree is or if I ask you to remember a tree from your childhood. It could be one that you played in, fell from or picked fruit from. That is connection. We are still connected to those trees just as we are the people we remember, some more vividly than others through those invisible threads of connection. If you seek healing, then trees are non-judgmental and great listeners. When you enter a healthy ngahere the healing goes even deeper. Pay forward to Papatῡᾱnuku whenever you can. What if the ultimate reincarnation was a tree. |
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