I have often felt alone out here. I suppose it is just part of my nature, part of who I have become in these last 50 years. Sometimes I am amazed at the wealth of love and friendship I have accrued around me and feel undeserving of accepting. It has really only been recently how much I know I am not alone, both in that wealth around me, but also my kinship with so many other misfits out there. Men who never fit in, or died trying, the ones hiding behind closed doors hating the world out here, or hiding in a haze of drugs and alcohol. God knows I have done all of that.
I am tired of the system that only allows us to be successful if we have a good job, a new car, a big house. I am tired of the system that places value on wilderness only in terms of how much wealth it will create if we destroy it. I am tired of the system that encourages foreign companies to explore off our shores for oil to keep that system running, while at this very moment the oil gushes unhindered into the sea of my homeland, just as it has for years in the seas of other nations whose citizens skins are not the same colour as mine. For some reason it seems to mean more in places where the people it most affects are white. I am tired of that too.
So I just really want to lie on the ground in the mountains and dig my hands into the Ruahine earth, to drink from the clear cold waters and cleanse myself, to become part of the mountains, of the land. Just for a few moments I want to leave all this behind. It will all be waiting when I return.