mauri of me #25 ~ moko #3

Like all the mokos, moko #3 is special … and being a nanny means I am completely biased … as I should be. However, what gets Me about moko #3, or little miss 8 now … is she’s a pain in the ass lol. What admire though is how she is able to ‘read the room’ (in her unique way) and figure out in minutes what a person’s vulnerability or sore point is. She generally can figure out what she needs to do to exploit that persons weakness to get what she wants. On its own, this ‘trait’ sounds kinda dodgy lol … but I realised one day, that this shit is what people train for when they go into sales … how to read a person and exploit their ‘weakness’ to get a sale.

Well miss moko has figured out how to do this all on her own 😉

Whats also interesting though, is she won’t exploit the ‘actual’ vulnerable.

We have a nephew who has severe CP, and miss 8 / moko #3, will spend hours playing quietly with him. This is a 2 fold thing for her though … 1. she’s able to hang out with the nephew and spend time with him and 2. when she wants quiet time, if she goes by him, no-one bugs her because ‘polite people’ can’t deal with a severely impaired CP nephew; so they leave them both alone. Now how freaking genius is that.

I admire that moko #3 is able to manage her; is able to get what she needs and what she wants; I admire that she pushes every and any boundary to adjust and find her own; I admire that she pisses people off so easily and isn’t terribly phased – cos you know how many years people sit in a councillors office trying to figure this shit ay!; I admire that she ‘sees’ people – their insides – their intent – long before the person can themselves.

Added to all this charm, moko #3 is an awesome little fashionista. She knows what she likes and how to put it together and she doesn’t give a rats ass what other people think or say … because there have been some rude bastards comment on how ‘she’s put together’, criticising her style. But she brushes it off like it aint no thing … and usually gives them a look of  … ‘what ever ; you obviously have no idea’ lol. Not once does she take any of that criticism on board!

I love miss moko #3 … I can’t wait to see what she does next 😉

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mauri of me #24 ~ matariki

Matariki is our Maori New Year.

 

A more technical explanation of Matariki, according to aunty google is as follows:

Matariki is the Māori name for the cluster of stars also known as the Pleiades. It rises in mid-winter – late May or early June. For many Māori, it heralds the start of a new year. Matariki literally means the ‘eyes of god’ (mata ariki) or ‘little eyes’ (mata riki).

The name Matariki is used also for the central star in the cluster, with the surrounding stars named Tupu-a-nuku, Tupu-a-rangi, Waiti, Waita, Waipuna-a-rangi and Ururangi.

Most years I’ve kinda not bothered noticing, or celebrating; lame I know. But this year, being surrounded by nature, I couldn’t help but take notice.

First we noticed the ocean roaring. We can usually hear it at high tide but then theres certain times of the month when it’s particularly loud and goes on for longer. If we take notice, we then notice other things happening in nature.

The sky is usually especially bright at night. And during the day, the moon is out.

day moon

day moon

I love that Matariki is marked and celebrated throughout the world by different Indigenous cultures; of course at different times … that we noticed the stars, the moon and everything that happens during those times. We are a ‘star’ people; a nature people … its what guided us during our voyages to this land. Not a compass; not a chart … but our instincts and our relationship with nature.

 

mauri of me #23 ~ sensitives

I come from a family of ‘sensitives’ … sensitive skin, sensitive tummy, sensitive hearing, sensitive taste … Just sensitive all round.

And then theres the ‘other’ sensitive. The one ‘they’d’ medicate or lock you up for, if you talked about it ‘out loud’.

It’s the sensitive that see’s whats supposedly not there. That hear’s whats supposedly inaudible. That can smell subtleties that no-one else can smell. That can sense what ‘isn’t’ there.

Is this such a strange phenomenon for Indigenous? No. It’s not. And prior to the Tohunga Suppression Act of 1907, the sensitivity I’m talking about was called matakite.  For mainstream though, it’s something they don’t understand and fuck up, whilst they try and understand it or distinguish it.

I always had trouble distinguishing between my dreams and nightmares and what was actually present. Both freaked Me out. And when my eldest daughter came along, and she could sense similar things, I also freaked out. Some of this was to do with the Christian belief that everything that couldn’t be seen, was evil; or there was something inherently evil about the ‘see-er’.

When my 2nd daughter came along, her ‘sixth sense’ about things was quite ‘organic’ and natural. It didn’t seem freaky or mystical so to speak. It just seemed normal.

By the time my mokos came along, we were all beginning to embrace what we were as pretty normal, even though we didn’t fully understand it. Moko #1 senses what isn’t seen and whats not spoken. Moko #2, can smell whats not there; she can also understand whats ‘not spoken’. Moko #3 can hear the almost inaudible; and can also see your motive; she can also sense your pain. Moko #4 can hear your motive.

And Me. Well I’m still working out the difference between whats a sensitivity and whats pts(d). But I know whats a dream now, and what isn’t. I know now, when to ask my tipuna (ancestors) for assistance and advice.

What I like the most … is that my mokos won’t struggle with all of this like I did, or like my daughter did. For them, its natural, and they’re learning how to make it work for them.

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mauri of me #22 ~ tangaroa

I post pictures of the ocean and beach we live by, quite often. It’s an amazing place to live. We moved here because I needed the sea … I needed to feel the air and hear the waves … I needed to feel the water.

In our culture, water is a sacred and blessed thing. Salt water, or ocean water … even more so. It’s a source of cleansing and healing. I think my wairua (spirit) knew, long before my consciousness knew, that this is what I needed.

It’s done, and continues to do, what I need it too. And I am forever grateful for that ❤

my beach

mauri of me #21 my babies

I speak of my daughters often throughout my blog, but not alot, if you get my drift. And thats mainly out of respect for their privacy … little bitches 😉

But as I recently had a big dose of them, they are next up on my ‘mauri’ agenda … because they are my essence ❤

They are like a split of Me with an extra dollup of chocolate and gelato on the side 😉

They are both ultra sensitive and completely gangstah … but different.

 

… I started writing about how beautiful they both are … but that wasn’t actually the reason I thought of them both for this post today … so let Me get to the gutts of it ay.

I’ve also written alot about not knowing when and how We will stop being here … in this world. Whether it be those that take their own lives, or those that have lived a long plentiful life, or those that are so dam miserable they probably should be dead … the jist is, We never know when our time is up; but it is a guarantee of this life. That we will all one day expire.

I know this. And its strange, because the closer I get to digging Me and digging life, the more urgency I feel to love every little bit of it because its been so fucken hard for so long … I think I’ve done my hard times and down times enough for a couple life times.

But as I was hanging with my girlies the other day, the youngest (shes 23) had learnt that her friend, who is a little younger than her, had died. She leaves behind a 3 year old.

I think I was kinda in shock, but felt for my girl and could see her grief; and her love for her friend.

Today it kinda slapped Me up side the head. That my baby is feeling the grief of loss that we associate with older, having lived some more of life type age bracket. And that this girls mama would be completely gutted … to have lost her baby girl; her child … the child, growing into a young woman … who now, is no more.

My heart kinda skipped a bit of a beat. Not because I know this lady or her daughter … but because my girl was is in pain and that pains Me.

And because my girls are my love and life. They always have been. Because I am eternally grateful for them; for having them here – still; for being able to watch them grow from beautiful kids to even more beautiful young women … and I’m not just talking outward beauty (they are stunning looking girls though!), but what makes them extraordinary is what they exude … their essence.

They make Me so proud … but more than that … I have always been in love with my kids, and I’m pleased that they have loved Me back 🙂