Storm.

May 9, 2012

I knew first time I saw the poster that I would make the event.

No plan, just a quiet knowing.

That morning my youngest asked to go on an adventure.

A big one.

We sat for a while contemplating a boat ride across to the big city we see from our windows. The clouds were dark. The deck chairs glided gracefully across the deck. The white water crashed below.
Hmmm..Maybe another day…
But then somehow the day turned and I found myself there. In the City, at 3 o’clock in the middle of the city street, a five year old on my shoulders. Her new boots kicking me softly, her lollipop narrowly avoiding my hair.
People around us were loud. Many of them were angry. Flags were waving, drums were beating.
But I was quiet.
This is not the event I would have arranged.
The yelling started.
“Aotearoa is not for Sale!! Aotearoa is not for sale!!”
But it is being sold! I thought to myself. Our energy company yesterday, fracking in the south island for months, offshore drilling.. The country’s assets are being sold as we breathe..
So, I walked slowly.
I was not mad, I was sad.
Sad for the future, sad for our children.
If I planed this march, the people would be quiet. Then maybe someone would listen…
Instead, we were engulfed with the loud drums, the repetitive chanting..
“It’s too loud” she complained.
“I know” I said, and just like that we left. We drifted off to a gelato place and created a different day.

It’s never too late to create a different day.

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