The river after the storm
Waitawheta River in flood.
“At night I think of Ronna Whakamautai, guardian of large bodies of water, and our bodies, because we are water too...
I am the river after the storm. Loud, beautiful and free.”
I'm turning 40 this year.
It feels surreal to be saying that. One thing's for sure, I've been living a very different season since my 30th. We had a low-key celebration in the dance studio while training for a national competition. My dance crew baked a cake for me, sang an enthusiastic happy birthday, and my mum even brought some treats that kept us fuelled and motivated. It's been a few years since I was about that life.
How do I plan to celebrate this milestone? I'm not sure yet, but like past birthdays since I turned 36, I hope it's somewhere near the mountains.
Over the last two years, I got back into poetry slams in a big way. I wrote ‘Korowai’ for the Tauranga Poetry Slam last year, inspired by the legend of Rona and The Moon. In Te Ao Māori, Rona is the tale of a woman who was angry and frustrated at life. While living on the moon, she learned to forgive, to let go and eventually create a new life for herself. With her magical korowai (cloak), she became the guardian of large bodies of water, like the oceans, rivers and lakes. Because we too are made of water, her story teaches us that just like the tides, our emotions are temporary. By learning to navigate the rivers that flow within us, we can grow through our emotions too.
After navigating the river after the storm, my life has become a nourishing stream.
What does that feel like? I finally have enough time - enough time to give my full attention to conversations, the patience to find the right words and communicate with compassion, time to nap, time to say no to things I don’t want. Time to be quiet and listen. Learning to say no was the game changer for me. Saying no triggers a powerful chain reaction - it tells the Universe that the life you are creating is made up of mindful choices. You move differently. Then one day, you find yourself so far down river that it makes no sense to go back the way you came.
After the uncertainty of the last couple of years, I’m choosing to go slow and steady this year. Doing small actions consistently instead of my usual ‘go big or go home’ attitude. I know, it’s only 25 days into the year, so maybe I’m still in the just-got-back-to-work honeymoon phase. It would be so easy to expect too much from this year, like the golden child that never has any free time to just be a kid. That feeling of being bed ridden with a bad cold, then as you start to feel better, you go for a 10km run because you feel guilty for not doing anything for days.
I’m really enjoying doing life under the radar, not sure why I didn’t think of it sooner. I lived a big part of my thirties on social media, on dating websites and apps, procrastinating and regurgitating broken promises to myself. Maybe my forties will be about going back to basics. To keeping my promises. A time where people I care about will hear my voice more than they read my texts. Where swiping left or right is no longer my default in search of a connection.
Life is flowing and I'm grateful to be here.
xo Ronna Grace
fivefootronna is Ronna Grace Funtelar - a thirtyish adventurer, sometimes poet and lover of cheese. She has a unique brand of optimism that is a combination of her great enthusiasm for life and cups of coffee during the day.