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the beginning of birthday month ..

its an irony really .. but im embracing it, boarder-line, loving it.

so, as was planned, this month is chilling the fuck out, with the coffee i love & good books!

no shit .. didn’t even plan for an apocalypse, but here we are ;)

kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

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todays news:

I opened FB for the early morning updates and found an old work colleague had died last night.

He had been sick for a long time, but being as stubborn as he was, he had battled for years … won, got sick again and now his body had finally decided to rest.

So I’m reminded again, that life is a gift. And you only get one go. There are no do-overs.

I thank my tipuna for the beginning of my mokos life.

And I thank the atua for the life that has moved on and I had the privilege of knowing.

Rest easy my old friend <3


kpm ©


 

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un.fucking.myself.

Karakia:

Atua

Tukua

Homai to Aroha

Ae.

I had the absolute pleasure of walking my beach the other night … of listening to the ocean waves crash … and of watching the sunset :)

I love this place … the ocean, the skies, the nature sounds … it’s brought so much healing I can’t even round it off into a manageable sentence.

There is something quite spectacular about nature and the way it works … its ebbs and flows … its in perfect rhythm with itself and everything round it. And I believe, it holds everything we possibly need to heal Us. If we stop and listen that is.

Today I am grateful for where I am; even where I’ve come from. Without the rear view, I wouldn’t be able to appreciate this view.

xo


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

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unfucked.today.

So between where I live and where my Mama lives there is this old house. It sits all by its little self, abandoned, in a field of grass.

Now we’ve been passing this house for god knows how long … 5-6 years … and every time we go past, and if I’m not hyperventilating and holding onto my seat … or crying or having a panic attack … I usually look up and notice it and say to my partner … “I want to stop and take a photo of that house oneday”. And then we drive on and I continue doing what ever breathing or freaking out shit I was doing.

Well, today I decided to go and see my Mama. 1st big call of the day, cos its been a busy week for Me. But I wanted to go help her with her cleaning and to be honest, I’m getting sick of being lame. I get I need to rest when I need to rest, and I can’t run on adrenalin … adrenalin is not my friend! … but I needed to do this. So that decided, the 2nd big call of the day was announcing to the partner on the way out the door, that I wanted to drive from our driveway to the 100k sign just on the outskirts of our little village.

Gasp. LOL.

He was a lot surprised, but I wanted to keep some momentum going re driving. So I did that.

Moment of stunned silence and a moment of victory dance ensemble.

Thankyou.

With that done and Me getting out of the driving seat I said to the partner (2nd announcement lol) … “You know that house we drive past and I say I want to stop and photograph it one day?” … “Yep” says He. “Yeah well, today we are stopping so I can photograph it. Ok. Okay.”

Again he looked a little surprised lol.

Off we went and we stopped and I photographed it.

Is it the worlds best photograph? Nope.

Is it even a picturesque scene? Nope.

Do I like it? Yes.

Do I feel like a winner … lol? Yes. Yes I do.

You see … it occurred to Me somewhere in this week, that I need to do what I want to do … Now. Not wait for ‘another’ time, or the right time, or a better time … because that never comes.

There is no right or better. Theres just Here and Now.

I’ve been doing the best I can with what I have for a very long time and haven’t really stopped to appreciate the fact that it is All good. That every little step; every photograph; every little quiver or perceived ‘fuck up’; every little breathe; every little shitfest or crying fit; every little and big scream; every running in the opposite direction … is Just Fine.

Because Today … I got to take my photograph.

That makes Today a good day to be alive :)


kpm ©


 

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thusly unfucked.

In my clean out the other day I had to figure out what to do with these beauties: potential rubbish bin material?

Well, I could not do it:

Heres why ..

These are macro shots of my Nans recipes. Even though they are old and largely illegible … they are my Nans essence <3 In this shot I can ‘see’ her love and beauty; her patience with us; her creativity and her wisdom. I miss her. And these little pieces of paper made my mindfulness-ness sort of teary, but happy.

I am privileged to have had a Nan in my life, right up until I was in my 30s. Not to many people can say that. My children had a Great-Nan but she departed this world before her great great grandchildren were born.

Memories come with all sorts of things … bits of paper; handwritten scribbles; recipes; smells; words … flavours.

I love my Nan for everything she gave Us girls. She was / is the epitome of strength and resilience.

Today the shout out mindfulness spot goes to my Nan.

<3


kpm ©


 

me and my mama

My relationship with my Mama has been tentative and sometimes extremely volatile over the years.

When I was little I wanted a Mother that was like all the others appeared to be. I wanted love like everyone else seemed to get. I wanted understanding like I thought other kids got from their mothers.

I pretty much wanted my mother to be different than she was. Not all of her, just the bits I didn’t like.

As the years have gone on, and I had my own children, I still wanted her to be different. I still wanted her to understand me differently.

I also despised her for not protecting me.

Little did I realise then, and have only come to realise recently, that I am guilty of doing to my mother what I don’t like others doing to me.

Wanting me to be different than I am.

And you know what … when I stopped wanting her to be different than she was, I got to see her real beauty, not just tokenly appreciate the things she had done for me.

You see, my Mama is quite an amazing person when I stopped wanting something else … when I actually took a step back and looked at her properly.

Not only did she raise 2 children on her own in spite of the hurdles she had faced with both mine and my brothers fathers … she chased, exorcised, actively sought after and conquered her own demons whilst raising us.

I’ve learnt over the years, that theres a huge difference between parenting well and seeking out the ‘better’ … for yourself and your children … whilst you are nursing your own wounds. And we all carry wounds. No-one is immune to that. And that is what my Mama did. She strived for better, from herself and from us. From me. All her, what I perceived then as criticism, was her way of getting me to think about what I was doing and where I was going. She wanted better for me.

As for not protecting me … I’ve also come to realise that she did all she could and all she knew to do to protect me. She is not accountable for another persons filthy wretched being. She’s not accountable for another persons actions. They are.

I recently helped my Mama move from her little house to another. She’s just retired and her new place is about 15 minutes away from me. In another lifetime that would have been horrid. But now, I embrace it. In fact I absolutely love having her down the road and round the corner from us.

Over the last few days I’ve helped her unpack and de-clutter / re-organsie her living space. I’m good at that sort of shit. Really good. But what was even better was spending time with her.

As we went through all her things, we did this process I do so it’s easier for those that don’t want to let things go, let things go. We look at every item and do a practical count of things; if theres more than 2 things we have to look at what they’re all there for. Usually its got to do with memories. With each item, my Mama had a memory attached to it. I heard all her stories of all the things she held memories of. The things that were the most memorable, or that she absolutely loved, those things she kept and put on display instead of hiding them in a box. I think she enjoyed the process instead of it being painful. I used to criticise her for her clutter and disorganisation, because I didn’t like it and I wanted her to be different. But by the time we were finished, I got to see the beauty in all the things that she loves.

I love my Mama. I appreciate her deeply, now, for who she is.

She is amazingly intelligent; holds a degree; has completed some brilliant research; has gone back to study to pursue her love of art; she is a beautiful artist; a gritty activist; she’s a devoted and loyal woman with a deep deep passion for what is just and what is right; she abhors injustice and greed.

What more could anyone want in a role model and in a Mama?

Lastly, my Mama has always lived on the bones of her ass. I didn’t realise how much so until I lost my income and had to look at how I spent money; what I actually needed versus what I wanted; what was really important. Mama always fed us and clothed us; she always paid her bills and still had money left over to give to others. She sewed and bottled; baked and cooked; she saved and spent less. She was always careful about where every penny went. But I don’t recall her ever complaining about being broke … she just got on with it.

And while I have always heard people complain about the amount you receive when you retire and how little it is … because my dear dear Mama has learnt to live on virtually nothing all her adult life … retirement looks like manna from heaven. Most people would sniff at 30 or 40 dollars ‘extra’, but my Mama is living large … for her, she has hit the jackpot. Mama has never drank or smoked or eaten exotic foods or bought exotic clothing … she’s never gone on expensive overseas holidays or ordered overpriced gadgets to ease her ego; she’s never bought a brand new car or a brand new anything for that matter … she’s always lived minimally. And now … she can buy an extra block of cheese, and her favourite fruits, and some raw milk, and a steak … she can go for a coffee at the cafe if she chooses and buy an extra pot plant if she wants … she can even give the mokos a few dollars if she wants.

For all these reasons and a shitload more … I am forever grateful that my Mama is my Mama. That she is the perfect Mama for me. That I still have her here to enjoy. That she is close enough for my crusty anxiety ridden ass to get to every week. That I’ve figured out how important she is and can enjoy every moment with her, now.

Love you my Mama xoxo


kpm ©