Friday, June 20, 2025

Ngā Mata o te Ariki Tāwhirimātea

 

Today is the public holiday associated with Matariki (Te Mātahi o te Tau/Māori New Year).

I feel very connected to our special NZ holiday and all its components. 

Matariki is an abbreviation of Ngā Mata o te Ariki Tāwhirimātea — ‘The eyes of the god Tāwhirimātea’ — my favourite Māori God as he is the God of the Wind and Weather.

All people in NZ are descended from those in their own past who used the stars for navigation, time telling, and food gathering — it is a holiday for us all to celebrate, appropriate for our place and our seasons.

I am deeply proud of Matariki as a uniquely Aotearoa celebration. It is rare (I think, unprecedented) for an indigenous tradition to be formally recognised with public holiday status — a testament to the progress and manaakitanga at the heart of our government and society at the time of its creation.

This recognition honours the cultural heritage and knowledge of Māori and invites all New Zealanders to come together to reflect, celebrate, and plan for the future in a way that respects our land, ancestors, and the stars above.

Matariki is also a star in the cluster — the mother star — and how bright she is - foretells the happenings and conditions in the coming year. The other main stars celebrated in Matariki are the seven sisters, each with their own stories and meanings. Some iwi count seven stars, others nine. Some iwi can’t see Matariki from their location in NZ due to mountains, and instead use Puanga (Rigel in Orion’s Belt - the pot cluster) as the marker.

When these stars rise together is when we celebrate Matariki — a time for:

  • Reflection — remembering those before us and the lessons of the year. The first sightings of Matariki are met with expressions of grief for those who have passed since its last appearance. A ceremony called whāngai i te hautapu may be held, involving ‘feeding the stars’ with specially prepared foods.
  • Celebration — feasting, coming together, and honouring who we are as the grieving time ends. Traditionally this marks the end of the harvest — a time for eating, singing, and dancing.
  • Planning — looking forward to the year ahead, supporting each other and the environment. A bright, clear Matariki signals a favourable, productive season; hazy, closely grouped stars mean a cold winter and delayed planting.

Here are the words I gathered from various places to put together as a karakia (prayer) for my whānau to be spoken aloud during our gathering at Matariki. It includes my translation of the meanings (that part is intended for silent reading at the end of the spoken Reo statement)

 Matariki te tipua (Matariki is sacred)

Matariki te tawhito (Matariki is ancient)

Tau mai te wairua, mai ngā ira atua, ki te ira tangata (Welcome the spirit, welcome the life force of the universe into the people)

 

Mānawa maiea te putanga o Matariki! (Celebrate/Hail the rise of Matariki - the appearance of Matariki cluster)

Mānawa maiea te ariki o te rangi! (Celebrate/Hail the God/Lord/Chief of the Sky)

Mānawa maiea te Mātahi o te tau! (Celebrate/Hail the New Year)

 

Tuku anga mate o te tau ki a Pōhutakawa whao whetūrangi hea koutou (We release the dead of the year to Pōhutukawa - star associated with people who have passed on - Our loved ones have now become the stars)

 

E tū Tūpu-ā-nuku (Behold Tupu ā - nuku - star associated with everything that grows in the soil to be harvested or gathered for food)

E tū Tupu-ā-rangi (Behold Tupu ā rangi - star connected with everything that grows up in the trees - fruits, berries, birds)

E tū Waitī (Behold Waitī - associated with all fresh water and the food sources that are sustained in those waters)

E tū Waitā (Behold Waitā - associated with the ocean and food sources within)

E tū Waipuna - ā - rāngi (star for the rain - "water that pools in the sky")

E tū Ururangi (star for the winds - Māori has many names for different winds, where they come from and how strong they are)

E tū Hiwa-i-te-rangi (star associated with granting our wishes and realising our aspirations for the coming year - "to grow lush in the sky")

 

Matariki atua ka eke ki runga (Great Matariki rising above us)

Nau mai ngā hua (Bring forth the bounty)

Nau mai ngā taonga (Bring forth the treasures)

Nau mai te Mātahi o te tau (Bring forth the New year)

 

Hau mi e, hui e, Taiki e (Together in union, we are one)

Tihei Mauriora! (Let there be life)

 This year, the ritual of Tuku anga mate o te tau ki a Pōhutukawa whao whetūrangi hea koutou — the ceremonial release of the spirits of those who have passed to the pōhutukawa star — carries deep significance for our whānau. The pōhutukawa, often referred to as the “tree of the dead,” represents the sacred journey of our loved ones’ spirits returning to the stars. In te ao Māori, it is believed that the spirits travel to Te Rerenga Wairua (Cape Reinga - the place of leaping), descend the roots of the ancient pōhutukawa tree, and begin their journey to the ancestral homeland of Hawaiki.

Matariki marks this passage with reverence. The ritual of whāngai i te hautapu — “feeding the stars” — involves preparing food as an offering to the stars, especially Pōhutukawa and those connected to loved ones we've lost. It is a symbolic act of remembrance, honour, and connection — one that reinforces the enduring bond between the living and those who have passed.

This year, I feel the weight and comfort of this tradition more than ever. Since last Matariki we lost a beloved member of our whānau — my brother-in-law, Perry — after his drawn-out and heart wrenching transition from this world to the next.

As we gather to mark Matariki this year, we carry his spirit with us, releasing him to the stars with aroha and grief in equal measure.

This ancient practice reminds us that death is not an end but a transition — a return to the cosmos and the ancestral world.

The ritual helps us to let go with aroha and respect, while also opening our hearts to healing and renewal.

In this way, Matariki connects us deeply — not only to the cycles of the natural world and the stars above but to each other, and to those who came before us.

We are reminded that our ancestors live in the sky, watching over us through the shimmer of Matariki.
Their stories, like stars, help us navigate what’s to come.
Even in darkness, there is guidance.
Even in farewell, there is light.

I am quite besotted with how Matariki holds space for all these phases — grief, gratitude, and growth.

It doesn’t rush us past the hard parts or demand that we have everything figured out.
Instead, Matariki gently reminds us to lift our gaze, breathe in the cold morning air, and keep going.


The stars have risen — and with them, so do we… 

References and further reading:

 

For Perry. 


 

Friday, May 5, 2023

NZSL Week: Your Invitation to Start Signing

 New Zealand Sign Language (NZSL) is the main language for around 4 000 New Zealanders and uses signs to express concepts supported by movements of the face, head and upper body to convey grammatical and expressive meaning.

A fingerspelled alphabet is used mainly for proper nouns and terms that have no equivalent sign. It is common for people who use sign language as their primary language to be given a sign as a name based (rather than finger spelling) This sign will be based on a physical characteristic they have or personal trait their close contacts know them by.
The language is closely related to Auslan (Australian Sign Language) and BSL (British). Some British/Scottish immigrants arrived in NZ with BSL as their communication tool. In the mid to late 1800s deaf NZ children were sent to schools for the deaf in Australia and Britain for their education - BSL was used there at that time.
In 1877 MP William Roulston from Canterbury pushed for deaf children to be able to be educated in NZ rather than having to be sent over seas which resulted in the first school for the deaf in NZ being built in Christchurch with children from all over the country travelling there. At this point though it was thought best to avoid sign language and teach deaf children to lip read and speak English (Gerrit van Asch was a proponent of the ‘oralist’ teaching method and believed that children who could not speak or lip read would be too feeble minded to be educated. Children ended up secretly using sign language amongst themselves anyway).
A second school was built in Auckland during WWII as there was concern about children having to cross the cook strait with the possibility of Japanese submarines!
Deaf schools have turned out to be the most important contributing factor in the development (and spread) of NZSL.
Right up until the mid 1980s sign language was used relatively privately in the deaf community as it was stigmatized in public life. Over the years the signs took on a local New Zealand flavour and became different enough to be officially called NZSL.
NZSL was recognised as a language in the 1990s and made an official language of NZ along side English and Te Reo by the New Zealand Sign Language Act 2006. As signs express concepts through visual elements rather than coming from spoken words, NZSL signs can be translated into English and te reo Māori.
Only around 5% of NZers acquire NZSL as a first language from birth (this is around the percentage of children born to deaf parents). 
In 2018, about 23,000 people in New Zealand had some knowledge of NZSL.
NZSL is dynamic - as is any language - signs for new concepts (such as new technology) and new concepts and experiences to reflect changing in society are constantly being added. 
NZSL Week is a perfect time to jump into the sign language experience in your own way Smile


I have added some links for you below to support your participation (many are supported by YouTube videos so don't forget to look there for resources too).

 

NZSL Week website – specifically geared up for NZSL week with resources and info

 

NZSL website – website includes some excellent videos (no sound required) showing how to sign a variety of common phrases (searchable dictionary and integrated with  Te Reo which I found super interesting!) If searching a phrase try just the first word e.g. How (and you will get How are you?, How many?, How old? etc

 

Order your hot drink in NZSL! – Ake Ake promotion but you have to get in quick!

 

https://www.deaf.org.nz/ website

 


Saturday, October 22, 2022

The Do Something Principle (With Thanks to a Pommel Horse Champion)

This was a week — let’s call it That Week — when everything I was juggling suddenly became made of knives. Too many high-tension points converging at once. Financial pressure. Personal uncertainty. Some family stuff. The news. My own nervous system.

Nothing catastrophic. Just... too much.

And in the middle of this slow-burning chaos, I was doing what many of us do: scrolling aimlessly in the hope that somewhere, amid the noise, I’d stumble across the thing that would help me feel less paralyzed. I didn’t expect it to come from an Olympic gymnast.

But it did.

Rhys McClenaghan, world champion pommel horse magician (technical title), made a video for his Patreon supporters. And it was in that video — one I nearly didn’t watch because “productivity advice” in high-anxiety mode is often just guilt in a motivational hoodie — that he introduced a ridiculously simple little diagram:

Action → Motivation → Inspiration → Action (and so on, forever).

He calls it the Do Something Principle. It's not original to him — I think Mark Manson might have used it first — but Rhys explained it in his own way, with clarity and heart. No fluff. No hype. Just this:

You don’t wait to be inspired in order to act.
You act, and that action generates a spark.
That spark leads to motivation.
Motivation generates inspiration.
Inspiration gives you the energy to keep going.
And the cycle repeats.

At the time, I was hovering somewhere between “frozen” and “freaking out.” Everything felt like too much, so I was doing nothing — which, of course, was only adding complications. Rhys's little loop made it clear: I didn’t need a grand plan or a burst of motivation. I just needed to start. Pick one small thing. Move. The rest would follow. And, to my genuine surprise, it kind of did.

Now, in case it’s not obvious, I have never touched a pommel horse. I am about as far from a gymnast as a person can reasonably be without violating the laws of physics. But Rhys’s channel drew me in long before this video. It wasn’t the gymnastics (though he’s phenomenal). It was his self-motivation. His ability to set goals, make plans, and work toward them with steady determination.

It made me wonder: have I over-relied what I consider my superpowers - adaptability and patience —are these at the expense of ambition? Of achievement?

Are those mutually exclusive? Or is that just another loop I need to break?

I still don’t have an answer on this. But I do have a screenshot of that diagram within easy reach now. And whenever things feel like too much, I return to it.

 Start with action. 

Any action.

 Even writing this post.

So thank you, Rhys — from this anxious non-gymnast in a faraway corner of the world. You did something. And it helped.



Tuesday, June 7, 2022

I don't think the world is dying


There’s a theme I’ve seen echoing around the digital void lately — “the world is dying.”
I get it. Climate anxiety is a thing. Late-stage capitalism is looking... well, pretty late. And if your feed is anything like mine, it’s a steady diet of heatwaves, plastic-filled oceans, political unravelling, and billionaires escaping into orbit like rats from a sinking ship.

But here’s my perspective:
I don’t think the world is dying.
I think the version of life that the Western world has come to know and cling to with white-knuckled intensity… that’s what’s in its death throes.

And maybe it needs to die.

Let’s be honest — humans have been a bit of a disaster in the “caretaker of the planet” department. Arrogance and self-importance have been our party tricks for generations now. It’s not that we’ve broken the world; it’s that we keep pretending we own it.

But the world?
She’s survived asteroid collisions, supervolcanoes, ice ages, and a whole host of mass extinctions without even blinking. We are, by comparison, a momentary blip — a flash of carbon-based confidence in the infinite expanse of cosmic time. And despite our best efforts to mess it all up, the planet isn’t dying. It’s adapting. It’s evolving. It’s shrugging off what no longer serves.

Including us, if it must.

Now before you reach for your compostable tissues — this isn’t a nihilistic rant. It’s a permission slip.
To breathe.
To let go.
To stop pretending that you alone are responsible for all of humanity’s mess.

We’re each just a single thread in this enormous, complicated, often absurd tapestry. What you can do (what it’s my intention every day to do) is live with integrity and joy in your own corner of it. Do the best you can, and be kind to your small ecosystem of people, places, and passing moments.

Because here’s the truth I’ve landed on:
If I’m doing the best I can, then carrying daily negativity and self-blame doesn’t serve anyone — least of all the world I do want to help.

I can’t control others’ choices. I’m not responsible for the whole system. I didn’t ask to be born into late capitalism, climate chaos, or whatever season of global collapse we’re in.

But I can choose my response.
And today, I choose peace. I choose joy. I choose to keep showing up with awareness, action, and a little grace for myself and others.

The world isn’t dying.
But the illusion of what we thought the world was?
That’s a different story.