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.

The wound is the place where the light enters you

Do you remember the scene in Forrest Gump where he had been running for over three years, hair and beard had grown long and wild, and all of sudden he just stopped in the middle of the road. “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll go home now.” Priceless.

And that was it, he turns around and starts running back home.

He reflects, then utters the words that summed up why tramping has become such a big part of my life. “You’ve got to put the past behind you before you can move on, and I think that’s what my running was all about.” I stumbled into tramping much like I stumbled into graphic design - I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, but my gut was telling me to look for something better than what my logical mind was showing me at the time.

How do you eat an elephant?

It’s a funny saying, isn’t it? I don’t remember ever being asked that question growing up, yet recently I just can’t seem to get away from it. What’s that about? I know that I’ve been a bit restless lately, and being an Aries, I don’t like to sit still very long. I’ve been craving a passion project to really sink my teeth into, but I haven’t quite found it yet.

Then, something clicked around 3am this morning. I was wide awake and just couldn’t go back to sleep. Not even those soothing rain music videos on YouTube could quieten my brain, who had clearly latched onto a time zone where the sun was already up. I gave up fighting it, sat up in the dark and had a conversation with myself.

What’s the elephant in your life, Ronna?

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?

P.S. I love you.

“You look like you’re dancing,” that’s what my friend John told me after he took that shot. Whose great idea was it to walk barefoot in the middle of the road anyway? Oh, it was mine...damn it. We were only 15 minutes into the shoot and my feet were already sore from the loose stones on the road. There was nothing graceful as I scuttled out of the way from oncoming traffic. That’s why when I decided to no longer teach hip hop at the end of 2020, I knew that I wanted to take up belly dancing again.

He was right, I was dancing. For some reason Cold Chisel’s “Flame Trees” began to play in my head like that nostalgic radio you keep in the shed. The kind that collects dust for years, waiting faithfully for you to appreciate that familiar crackle as you turn the knob to tune it into the right frequency.

Dance and I have had an all-consuming relationship for most of my adult life - to be honest, I think that says more about my slightly obsessive nature. It’s well and truly imprinted in who I am. But there’s no denying that it has shaped me as a woman. That’s why when I decided to no longer teach hip hop at the end of 2020, I knew that I wanted to take up belly dancing again.