The many tastes of love, forgiveness and the pursuit of joy

I tried hiking solo for the first time. Terrified my mother. Before my thirties, I didn’t do any hiking, let alone go into the bush on my own. She probably wished I just took up drinking and stayed home, just kidding, I'm allergic to alcohol. Turns out ugly breathing your way up a mountain is surprisingly cathartic. It taught me to trust myself, and what I lacked in fitness, I made up with resilience.

I still love hiking solo and do it often, and over the years I’ve started hiking with other people too. People always tell me how brave I am to hike alone, and I usually reply, ‘I am, but you can be too. You just haven’t given yourself permission to be brave yet.” Like my workmate Kim. We don’t hang out outside of work, but she keeps up with my hiking blogs and photos on social media. Last year, we were having lunch in the staffroom and she told me that hiking to a DoC hut was on her “someday” list. I asked her, “Do you want to turn ‘someday’ into ‘let’s make a plan’?” It took her a week, but she said yes.

We had two months before our hike to the Upper Whirinaki Hut. Kim had A LOT of questions, I felt like I was her personal Google at one stage. For me, getting Kim to the start of the track was already a win, not being helicoptered out was a bonus. We were a group of six and Kim and I walked at a slower pace than the others. An hour from the hut, the track became narrow and slippery. I turned away for a second when suddenly I heard a big splash. Kim had slipped, flown over the bank and into the river. She was wet and a bit shaken, but uninjured.

Choose to be the energy in the room, don't adapt to it

I’ve spent the last five years in introspection, digging right down to the bedrock to make sense of the woman I was becoming. Yet lately I’ve been asked to embrace a much different energy. Last year, apart from living through a pandemic, I also had emergency surgery. I had been in severe pain for three days until my mum finally convinced me to go to see my doctor on the fourth. I didn’t go home after that, just straight to A&E. It took me out for two months - no dancing, no climbing, no hiking.

Funny things happen when you’re forced to be still. It planted a seed of thought that's just now manifesting in my world (mostly because I'm a procrastinator when it comes to these things).

I’ve been part of the waiata (singing) group at work for almost as long as I’ve worked there. Singing is something I enjoy and it’s a great way to get to know your workmates. I can sing in tune most of the time but I’ve always been more comfortable as part of the ensemble, not as a soloist. I would turn up to waiata on a Friday, and all around me I could many around me holding back. So I held back too. We mirrored each other, and for a while I felt our growth as a group stagnate.

Let go. Receive. Be open to love. Give more hugs.

Have you ever had a recurring dream that you remember so vividly that you wonder if you had actually lived that moment in a parallel universe? Quite the question, I know. I’ve had two dreams like that, and they always pop up whenever I’m changing trajectory or procrastinating about some life decisions. The flying one is my favourite.

I’ve always been fascinated by dreams, but apart from the odd Google search, I’ve never done much about it. Last week as I was scrolling through a friend’s Instagram, I read a comment that was talking about a dream interpretation workshop. It was meant to be in-person that weekend, but because of the lockdown, had moved it to Zoom.

Here’s the thing, I’m not a fan of Zoom. Dislike, yes. Hate? I wouldn’t go that far. I easily get distracted with whatever my face is doing, conversations never flow, and somehow the silence is more awkward as you all stare intensely at the screen.

Exploring the space in between

The last time I was at Karaponga Falls, I was on a date. Sounds romantic, I know. We spent a few hours sitting by the waterfall just talking, eating fresh berries from a local farm and me endlessly wondering how you would actually kiss a man with a beard the size of his. Unfortunately, I never did find out. His beard was glorious, and I often found myself mesmerised how he managed to keep it clean when he was eating.

We clicked intellectually and spiritually - I have a thing for intelligent men after all. He was in his thirties, though still a few years younger than me. What he lacked in years, he sure made up for in height. It seems tall, intelligent men is my favour. You can’t help what you’re attracted to, right?

I went speed dating once…actually, twice now.

I went speed dating once...actually, I’ve been twice now. Both in Whakatāne in fact. Seems like this adventurous spirit tends to find its away in other parts of my life these days. Now, speed dating in a small town is not as awkward as you may think, but one thing’s for sure: You will see someone you know, like a friend’s ex-husband or a student’s dad. “You look really familiar, how do I know you?” Three minutes of chit-chat later and turns out he was my neighbour from down the road. How convenient. Unfortunately, he was also my parents’ age.

If you have no clue what I’m talking about, speed dating is pretty simple. It’s a meet and greet event for singles - they try to have equal numbers of men and women in set age groups. I was in the 31-40 bunch. Yay for me. Each ‘date’ lasts between 3-5 minutes, you do your best to ask them slightly more meaningful questions beyond their favourite fruit, and if you’re lucky, maybe spark a connection. When time’s up you decide if you want to see them again or do like Beyonce…you know, to the left, to the left.

Feel The Fear, And Do It Anyway

Four years ago, a week after I separated from my ex-husband, I sat down and had a cuppa with my friend Steph. It was one of the last times I sat on the couch in my old house, and before she left, she gave me a big bear hug. The kind of hug that holds you until they’re sure you’re ready to let go.

I’ve spent the last four years in a constant state of transition. Healing. Learning. Growing. Actually, a hell of a lot of growing. So much so that I feel like my brain needs a de-frag to make sense of how much I’ve changed.

© 2015 Five Foot Ronna

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