No pictures today, just words.
It’s funny how a word or two can reveal worlds; juxtapositions slip keys in doors, which silently open through their symbolism.
For the past few months I have been experiencing a type of depression, lodged in my subconsciousness. It hasn’t been on the surface of my awareness, but rather, it has been more like a ghost that chills the air of my peripheries. Every time I turn to look it in eye, it has found a way to avoid me addressing it directly.
Anger and sadness was stuck in my body, close to my heart, slowing its beat to a doldrum.
My head couldn’t find it because it was so deeply locked away, hidden in happiness.
It’s funny how a word or two can heal worlds; juxtapositions slip silently through symbolic doors, they are keys.
I woke up today and in the dim light of the chill morning, as luminous breath bathed my face, I forgot the failings. They never really existed anyway.
Yesterday, the district council of Rotorua voted to accept a partnership model proposed by my tribe. As I sat in those council chambers, tears wanted to consume my eyes; I know the gift of this entire city that my ancestors gave in the hope of something special.
How did hope turn to dead dust, trust trussed up and thrown in a dark corner, waiting for people to work together to bring back the light?
Sometimes, maybe, hurt has to happen. Happiness begins again.