Brief note: Māori lessons on climate adaptation and a poem on self compassion
Straddling the final days of summer parenting, working, and writing
Kia ora koutou,
Thought you may enjoy a brief note on two things that touched me this week.
First, a long loved poem by Derek Walcott, a Saint Lucian born poet who went on to win the Nobel Prize in Literature (who also was accused of sexual harassment at least twice settled at least one of the claims against him.)
Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
Derek Walcott
Mr. Walcott said, "I have never separated the writing of poetry from prayer. I have grown up believing it is a vocation, a religious vocation."
May we all love again the stranger who was ourselves, may we all feast on our own lives.
Climate lessons from Māori communities
Living with and loving a climate scientist means I hear a lot about Western science’s best efforts to measure, understand, and prevent (delay?) climate change. I do what I can because I love the Earth and love Tim. But most of our relationship, my own climate friendly behavior has felt like a chore, not a loving act. I should bike, walk, or take the bus. I should eat less meat.
Living in New Zealand and being exposed to wide communities of Pakeha and Māori people who treasure the Earth and see humans as just one element of a rich biosphere has helped urge me toward a softening. I am beginning to understand these same “earth-friendly” choices as acts of love and restoration, not acts of compliance.
I’m grateful for Nadine Anne Hura’s recent article “Five Climate Lessons From Māori Communities (that are guaranteed not to depress you” for even more education.
“The closer you get to the pā harakeke, the less likely you are to hear the words climate change. One researcher told me that the surest way to guarantee no one shows up to your wānanga is to put climate change in the title. It is a term that can be more intimidating and confusing than enlightening. But if the wānanga is about restoring the mussel beds, or helping develop a locally specific maramataka, or physically retracing the steps of an ancestor or weaving hīnaki, everyone wants to be there…In Whanganui, the same inspiration is reflected in Te Morehu Whenua’s research team, whose members are as young as five. These tamariki and rangatahi joined the environmental group at Rānana Marae – more than an hour up river, off-grid – so that they could learn how to eel. Four years later, they can identify dozens of different species, monitor the health of their habitats including climate threats, and observe and enforce sustainable customary gathering practices.” -Nadine Anne Hura
And finally, just because, here’s a recipe for the chocolate birthday cake we enjoyed (twice!) this month.
Wishing you a literal and emotional feast.
Ngā mihi nui, Kerry
Lovely. Thank you.