Permission to speak

On stories

So I’m parked up in my car, writing in a journal; balancing it between my knees and the steering wheel. It’s cold and rainy, with a delightful aroma of burning engine oil. I had to turn off the stereo because the music was competing with my thoughts (and winning). The drum of rain on car roof provides a much better ambience anyway.

I was considering Tawhirimatea; his behaviour when he wasn’t heard. I thought about his storms, particularly tornadoes. Loud, violent, destructive, aggressive - impacting the world around him. I see a lot of whanau expressing Tawhirimatea energy to be honest.

I consider Ruaumoko, and see his rage. Burning within the belly of his mother, he also causes damage. But his brother Tangaroa tries to soothe his mother by putting out the fires. Sometimes you’ll glimpse him, leaking out of peoples eyes. Salty, healing water.

I can see Ruaumoko within a lot of my whanau as well. The silent sufferers. The ones labelled as “depressed”. I personally believe the term “oppressed“ is a better description, but I digress.

What do a lot of people do when someone is in a blind, destructive rage? Either try to restrain/stop them or completely avoid them. Sometimes attack them. Often lock them up.

What do a lot of people do when they see someone crying or trying to harm themselves? Some avoid them like the plague, some try to tell them not to feel that way. Others even attack them. Try to bully or shame them into “normalcy”. Or lock them up.

If you needed to be heard, would any of these responses encourage you to speak? These people are in distress.

Tawhirimatea and Ruaumoko are expressing anger. Externalised (Tawhirimatea), internalised (Ruaumoko), whatever. There is anger. What causes anger? Aua. My korero is just based on my experience. I relate anger to power. I generally only feel angry when I perceive someone, or something, has disempowered me, or is trying to control me. Injustice.

These atua tell me that when I see them being expressed in others, there are stories that need to be told. For various reasons, whanau haven’t been heard, understood, or even given the space and opportunity to speak. Our whanau have likely been further isolated (and quite possibly ostracised) by belief systems, societal systems and well-meaning friends/whanau, who reject them for their inability to speak. Even though they’ve been specifically targeted and punished for doing just that.

Don’t think that just because they’ve stopped caning kids in schools for speaking in their natural way, that it doesn’t impact future generations. We don’t just inherit physical genes, because we’re not just physical beings! Fuck what science says.

I digress again.

I understand that we have layers of stories that need to be told. Wounds that need to be exposed to the light, washed, and healed, before we can work on the layers underneath. This will take time. And there needs to be a highly protected space for it to happen in.

Someone needs to bear witness, and this person/healer needs to be well protected also. To ensure that our whanau don’t just transfer their trauma onto them. Otherwise we are asking our healers to become energetic trash cans. I can’t think of a worse abuse at all!

Look at the power of stories. Our ancestral stories, which carry wisdom, experience, connection and guidance. Our stories of suffering, which also carry healing potential, and allow for connection to others. Then there are the stories we imagine living, in our wildest dreams. These stories connect us to the future.

I see the story as a waka, in which we can travel across time, and through dimensions, to connect with ourselves and others. I also see that this waka can be pulled by two different taniwha. Each taniwha represents the way the story is framed. If the story I tell reinforces the idea that I am powerless, then this taniwha and waka will carry me into the silent, spooky, swampland, alone, where I can get stuck.

If the story I tell reinforces the idea that I am limitless, and that this is a part of who I am, by whakapapa (even if I don’t know my whakapapa), this taniwha and waka will carry me across vast expanses. I might even notice that I have a support crew (my tupuna) travelling with me. And I’m not limited to just the ocean.

My best stories/waka are guided by both taniwha. The stories I tell myself. They keep me balanced and remind me that power comes with responsibility. That I am important and insignificant. I discover old stories, and learn to rewrite them. I am still discovering new ones too.

Anyway, I’m still sitting in the car on a cold rainy day, pondering life, atua, all of the mysteries. I look around and see so much suffering. People feeling isolated and disconnected. Yet we have stories!

Let us speak, as an act of rebellion. Reclamation. Reunion. Let us listen, and be heard. Let us rest, connect and be healed. Our stories hold power. We are allowed to share them. We can give ourselves permission (I never knew that before - that I had the power to give myself permission. So I’ve added this in case someone else didn’t know). Kia kaha!