Kia ora e hoa. I’ve been sitting in cars in the rain writing (in my physical diaries for a change, too!) a lot lately. I have done so much writing in my life, and I often feel like it’s a waste of time - just because there’s so much of. What’s the point? Will anyone ever read it? Well, the other day, I met an 80 year old koroua, a literal closet poet (well, it’s not that he’s not ‘out’ with his poetry, it’s that the world has not discovered him as the likes of Alistair Campbell and Hone Tuwhare were.) Anyway, he brought down this incredible, enormous, handwritten treasure of over a hundred poems written throughout his lifetime. It charted his journey from the Pā, to teachers college, to the Vietnam War, to making a family, to the too-soon passings of significant people, his sister, brother, mother and then son, all in a short space of time. Then came the move to Aussie, the recovery, the loneliness and depression, his beautiful wife, great sex (ha!) friends, pets, staying strong for their other daughter, and eventually the birth of five mokopuna and later the return home to the Pā where their boy lies, and where this collection of poetry lives too. Aaannnyway, I had the book on loan overnight (there’s only one original copy, no digital!!) and I thought, THIS is why we write. Writing is whakapapa. Stories are what we remember and hold on to. They give us meaning, not nec in the detail or the hard things that happen, but in the multilayered notion of time. It gave me this whole renewed faith in what story keepers do. Those of us, for whatever reason, feel so compelled to sit in the rain and document what we see, feel and know. Ka Nui Ngā mihi xx
Wow, what a taonga! Him and his journals. I have old journals tucked away too, that I dread the thought of reading. Why torture anyone else with them? I hope that by charting the inner territories I might leave a map for my uri, especially the ones I don’t get to meet in the flesh. There might be only one that is as odd as me, but by gosh I don’t want them to feel alone. I LOVE what you say about writing and whakapapa! It makes my heart sing. Thank you!
You’ve given me some food for thought in your experience of anger and it’s causes for you. I often feel Tawhirimatea’s presence swelling up within when I’ve felt invalidated by someone or something, which can be similar to powerlessness or a feeling of being unheard, unseen and disregarded.
I love too how you finish off with a reminder that we can each give ourselves permission! A recent learning/practice of mine is to give myself validation too, rather than seeking it in relationships or from other external factors.
Yes! We are so much more powerful than we realise. It’s taken me a long time to realise that I need nobody else’s permission, validation or direction. I’M the taniwha hahaha! We GOT this!
re-writing stories in the rain for healing. love it.
Yes. Yes. Yes. All of this. Xxx
Kia ora e hoa. I’ve been sitting in cars in the rain writing (in my physical diaries for a change, too!) a lot lately. I have done so much writing in my life, and I often feel like it’s a waste of time - just because there’s so much of. What’s the point? Will anyone ever read it? Well, the other day, I met an 80 year old koroua, a literal closet poet (well, it’s not that he’s not ‘out’ with his poetry, it’s that the world has not discovered him as the likes of Alistair Campbell and Hone Tuwhare were.) Anyway, he brought down this incredible, enormous, handwritten treasure of over a hundred poems written throughout his lifetime. It charted his journey from the Pā, to teachers college, to the Vietnam War, to making a family, to the too-soon passings of significant people, his sister, brother, mother and then son, all in a short space of time. Then came the move to Aussie, the recovery, the loneliness and depression, his beautiful wife, great sex (ha!) friends, pets, staying strong for their other daughter, and eventually the birth of five mokopuna and later the return home to the Pā where their boy lies, and where this collection of poetry lives too. Aaannnyway, I had the book on loan overnight (there’s only one original copy, no digital!!) and I thought, THIS is why we write. Writing is whakapapa. Stories are what we remember and hold on to. They give us meaning, not nec in the detail or the hard things that happen, but in the multilayered notion of time. It gave me this whole renewed faith in what story keepers do. Those of us, for whatever reason, feel so compelled to sit in the rain and document what we see, feel and know. Ka Nui Ngā mihi xx
Wow, what a taonga! Him and his journals. I have old journals tucked away too, that I dread the thought of reading. Why torture anyone else with them? I hope that by charting the inner territories I might leave a map for my uri, especially the ones I don’t get to meet in the flesh. There might be only one that is as odd as me, but by gosh I don’t want them to feel alone. I LOVE what you say about writing and whakapapa! It makes my heart sing. Thank you!
Nga mihi e hoa,
You’ve given me some food for thought in your experience of anger and it’s causes for you. I often feel Tawhirimatea’s presence swelling up within when I’ve felt invalidated by someone or something, which can be similar to powerlessness or a feeling of being unheard, unseen and disregarded.
I love too how you finish off with a reminder that we can each give ourselves permission! A recent learning/practice of mine is to give myself validation too, rather than seeking it in relationships or from other external factors.
Yes! We are so much more powerful than we realise. It’s taken me a long time to realise that I need nobody else’s permission, validation or direction. I’M the taniwha hahaha! We GOT this!
The way you weave thoughts together with imagery and conviction is very striking. I love this piece. ❤️
Thank you so much! 🙏🏽😊