Taupiri Mountain
When I was young and the road to Auckland took forever, we would drive past Taupiri Mountain. My father told us that Māori chiefs were buried there, the higher up, the more important they were. On every trip north, we could crane our necks to see the sacred mountain.
Now they have carved out the road so it storms over new ground, no longer constrained by the wild and dirty river. And in that 'progress' we have lost something, for I miss those chiefs. I miss the reminder of all that happened before, their bones in the earth an immovable anchor to another time.
The Māori Queen, Dame Te Atairangikaahu, rests there. I had the privilege of clearing her plates once when I waitressed at the Museum Cafe. I remember the power of her smile when she glanced up at me; it was full of such warmth and kindness that I stood still in heart-shock for a moment, amazed at the light pouring out of one person. 25 years later, I can feel that light still.
(This memory calls to mind another woman of fierce strength - Dame Tariana Turia, standing alone in the entrance of Black Water Rafting, a vast cloak of mana holding her apart from anyone else, so majestic that I thought I should bow.)
Billy T. James is buried on Taupiri Mountain. I was only 13 when he passed, but my God, the laughter he created was some kind of epic medicine. The mother of a good friend loved him too, and every time they travelled past Taupiri Mountain she would call 'hello' to him. And one day, clear as anything, she heard ‘hello’ back. Such is the magic of the mountain. (There is so much more to this land than what we can see. Every now and again I catch a glimpse of the layers, and I know there are many who can see more than me.)
Just before I flew out of New Zealand at age 21, two young men from the Waikato Museum took me out to Tuurangawaewae marae. They taught me how to introduce myself to the water and blessed my new pounamu. I remember their words, "This is your place too. You can come here anytime."
Tears spring to my eyes thinking of this; the welcoming, the eternal welcoming. These days we would say I felt seen. I remember how their integrity and generosity knocked the words right out of me as we let the cool water run over our hands.
There is great honour here in Aotearoa. We are not like other countries. Ours is another way. Strong democracies threaten the regressive regimes of the world. Our progress makes us a target. But we are woven together tightly enough to withstand what they throw at us.
We keep our promises, no matter how we are threatened by ‘strong men’ or bots or bottom feeding politicians sent to divide us. This land that holds our bones and transmutes them into a new divinity remembers.
The chiefs on Taupiri Mountain know that. May we make them proud and may they rest in peace.
xx
Brydie
Image by Derek’s blog. Cheers Derek.
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