Reflection written by Leigh Lefale, Counties Energy
“I bet you never thought that you would be rapping a song on this retreat.”
No, I never thought I would be on this retreat, let alone this journey, but there I was with twenty or so other individuals, surrounded by the beautiful Te Taio (The Environment) in Maramaratotara Bay.
The retreat, although refreshing, confronted us with the stark reality of Te Taio, and how we cannot afford to take our way of life for granted or continue to turn a blind eye to our ecosystems, whether that be our kaimoana, or the sea gulls above us – we each have a right and responsibility to coexist and flourish. We heard from various rangatira on their roles in building greater, healthier, and more environmentally sustainable communities, with each expressing the need to foster and revitalise indigenous knowledge of the whenua. Throughout the retreat, while being surrounded by Papatūānuku, it dawned on me that somehow I had forgotten what it was like to get my hands dirty.
I forgot what it felt like to feel the sea breeze and the cold sand in August, I forgot how to close my eyes and be still to hear the birds sing. I forgot how quickly I start a trail walk, just to get tired in five minutes for not pacing myself. I forgot how still, yet powerfully prosperous, Te Taio really is.
This fourth retreat empowered me to reconnect with not only the environment, but myself. I was reminded of how my younger self enjoyed being outside and exploring, while finding any excuse to build something and make it better (even if it was just an ant hut). More questions bubbled to the surface as I grappled with the fact that we must be better ancestors. How will our tamariki experience Te Taio in the future? How will we ensure our future generations lead with a wild heart and how can I expect to lead while concealing my own?
NZLP has given me the safe space and validation to unpack these thoughts and, more importantly, check in with myself. I’m continuously in awe of my peers, and drawn to their strength in vulnerability to express themselves and provide a shoulder (mostly in the form of laughs) when I need it the most. They have gifted me with a renewed sense of confidence in myself and made me realise that it’s my journey of course, but it’s never been mine alone.
I have been confronted by conversations and scenarios where I have trusted myself, not knowing that’s what I’ve needed to rely on, perhaps all along. Retreat four pushed me to get my hands dirty and express my vulnerabilities and strengths, as a young person, as Pasifika and Māori, as a wahine, as a friend, as a family member, as a coworker and most importantly, as Leigh.