The above photo is a little blurry, a little out of focus. It was taken a few years ago when my friend Jeff was visiting from the states, and along with John, we headed into the Ruahine for a few days of mountain wandering. On this day we left our gear at the hut and climbed up to the tops. Always a pleasure to walk through the layers of the forest, leaving the river muttering below and climbing into the tussock and then the clouds. Only for me, on this day, it was not a pleasure. My hip hurt dreadfully, I could literally feel and hear bone grinding upon bone, and during the climb up all I wanted was to be done with it. On the way down I told Jeff and John to walk ahead as I was holding them back, that I would make my own way down. It was the first time I realized the true extent of my problem, and the anger I felt at my body disintegrating at this moment here with a treasured friend, friends, was palpable. The truth of what the real meaning of this all meant to my even being in these places filled me with dread and fear. It was not my best moment in the mountains.
Then, slowly struggling down the steep spur, I heard a sound I could not place. I thought at first it was a bird call I had not heard before, but as I got further down I realized it was the music of a harmonica. Only two people I know carry harmonicas in the mountains, my friend Jeff, and me, and Jeff gave me mine. I stopped above him and just listened, to the forest, to the music, and I just watched him amongst these mountains, so comfortable and so at home on this mossy knoll high in the forest. My friend had waited for me to make sure I was okay. In possibly the lonliest moment in my life, a good friend sat below me patiently waiting for ME. First hearing, and then seeing, his presence sent a rush of warmth through my entire being. So the photo is a bit out of focus as my vision was a bit out of focus, washed by tears of realization that I have such people, such places in my life. That somehow I would rise up and meet the challenges ahead. That these mountains will never leave me. I am part of them. I am thankful for that.
Mountain tipua (Guardian Spirit)
The silhouettes of the tawhairauriki against the setting sky I have always felt connected to and deeply moved by. As if they are the true soul or tipua of the mountains themselves, wise teachers whom we can choose to learn from or not. Both defiant and beseeching to the heavens above. As if they are saying " We will deal with the northwest gales, the damp and cold, the snow and sleet, the thin mountain soil into which we spread our roots, that is our lot. But you self important human abusers of the Papatuanuku, you we cannot bear because you do not come in Peace, and so I thrust my fingers and limbs to the sky in defiance and warning you to stop. You are only here for a brief moment, and refuse to learn what the mountains Teach and you do not Listen. Our friendship has been refused. No mines, no dams, no roads, no poisoning of our pure waters. Leave us alone".
I am Thankful for the Mountain Lessons as well.
I am Thankful for the many beautiful pieces to my life. My family and friends far and near, my beautiful wife whom I watch unfold into a more amazing woman each day, my sons, Taylor and Charlie offering each moment the ups and downs of parenthoood as they both also unfold into themselves.
I am thankful for the people whom visit here, your presence and encouragement are a constant source of inspiration.
In this moment though right here right now, I am most Thankful to the mountains. For finding me, for saving me, for teaching me how to Listen. For giving the strength and fortitude to find my way back to something I nearly lost. It has been a very good year.
Happy Whakamoemiti!
Aroha,
Robb
