On Monday afternoon Aotearoa lost a Kiwi icon and trailblazer – Georgina Beyer. An amazing woman and an inspiration to many. She will be fondly remembered and sadly missed, not only by New Zealanders, but by discriminated against minorities in many parts of the world. I’ll leave it to others better skilled than I to sing her praises.
Georgina Beyer remembered as trailblazer by Prime Minister, Labour’s Rainbow caucus chair
‘Georgina had guts’: Chris Carter remembers Georgina Beyer
Over on Nan’s Notebook, Ark wrote in a comment “[T]hey love to include bullshit terms such as spirituality and other ‘Woo’ words“. To Ark there’s no doubt that it’s woo. I’m not persuaded that spirituality is “woo”.
Twelve days ago I attended a pōwhiri at a marae about an hour’s drive from home. The experience, as has every other pōwhiri I have been part of, is indeed intensely spiritual. Before I continue, here’s a brief description of a pōwhiri:
A pōwhiri usually begins with manuhiri (guests) gathering outside the meeting grounds. An older woman from the host side performs a karanga (call) to the manuhiri. This is when the visitors start moving on to the marae. A woman from among the visitors will send a call of response and acknowledgement. The visitors walk onto the marae as a group, slowly and silently with the women in front of the men. They pause along the way to remember their ancestors who have passed on.
Once on the marae grounds, the guests and hosts sit down facing each other. When they are all seated, speeches are made and a song is sung following each speaker to support their address. Customarily, the final speaker for the visitors will present a koha (gift) to their hosts.
To finish the ceremony, visitors and hosts greet each other with a hongi (the ceremonial touching of noses). After the pōwhiri, kai (food) is shared, in keeping with the Māori tradition of manaakitanga (hospitality).
What is a pōwhiri? Understanding the traditional Māori welcome
In total there may have been fifty guests and hosts, perhaps a few less. All the speeches during the pōwhiri were in Te Reo Māori, as were many of the speeches during the sharing of kai. I struggle in crowds. I find them overwhelming and I mean in a negative way, even in large family gatherings. Yet when I move onto a marae I feel “at home”, in much the same manner as I feel when attending a Quaker Meeting. I feel embraced, becoming one with those present. It seldom happens elsewhere.
I cannot speak Te Reo, and the few words of Māori I do know did little to help me understand the speeches, but even so I could detect the speakers’ connectedness through their pepeha. More importantly I felt the connection. It’s the being connected, being one with something beyond self that makes one’s experience spiritual. That connection enabled me to stand and speak, and for the first time in a long while I didn’t need to rehearse what I wanted to say.
I felt the same type of connection this morning, not with people or a community, but with nature. I stood on our balcony while steady rain fell, hiding the Ruahine and Tararua ranges and the Manawatu Gorge that separates them. The rain muffled the sounds of Feilding traffic below As I stood I felt I became one with the environment. I noticed a slowing of my breathing and of my pulse. There was a sense of belonging, a calmness that I don’t usually experience.
I noticed too that I stopped scripting. For those who don’t know what scripting is, it’s a bit like learning lines of a script for a play. I’m not really able to create sentences on the fly so my head is always shuffling words around to make intelligible sentences, memorising them and then storing them away for moment when it might be useful to pull it out and recite. It’s a process that seldom stops while I’m awake, and at times it becomes so distracting that I lose concentration on whatever task I’m undertaking at that moment. But this morning it wasn’t there – silence, serenity, being one with nature, or perhaps the universe? It then hit me that in the ceremony of the pōwhiri I wasn’t scripting either.
If I had been living several centuries ago, I might have attributed the “being one” with some type of agency – a spirit or mystical force or energy, as that is certain how the experience feels. At a time when the existence of such agencies were taken for granted, I would have had no reason to suppose it was anything else. But I live in a “rational” secular world with a better understanding of how the mind functions, so I can attribute the experience of “oneness” to the marvel that our brain is. Knowing it’s caused by chemical and electrical circuitry in the brain doesn’t make it any less an awe inspiring experience.
Dismissing such experiences as “woo” diminishes what it is to be human. I don’t know if Ark has ever fallen in love, experienced the euphoria of a crowd of spectators when their team wins a sports event or the satisfaction that comes when a difficult task has been completed. I haven’t. I can’t even imagine what those experiences feel like. But I’m certainly not going to call them “woo” simply because I don’t understand or experience them. I’m not usually aware of emotions, mine or anyone else’s. I’m not able to predict what people might do in a second’s time let alone in a minute or an hour, so I’m always of an uncertainty when around people. But in the environment of a pōwhiri or a Quaker meeting everyone becomes part of a whole which is predictable. There’s a routine created by custom fashioned over centuries.
A similar predictability applies to nature. Seasons come and go regularly as does day and night. Clouds tell me when rain is likely and how much will fall. Wind changes direction over hours as does its intensity. In one sense nature and ritualised social occasions talk to me, informing me what will happen next. There is no need to rehearse what I might need to say in the next moment, minute, hour, nor predict what might happen.
Being autistic is a little like taking part in a play where you have been given the script to Sound of music (even though I can’t hold a single note in tune) while everyone else is working to the script of Hamlet. It’s disorientating, confusing and stressful. So spiritual experiences take on even more significance whenever they do occur. It’s a sense of calm, peace and euphoria all at once, and unless you’ve experienced it, you have no idea what it is like. It is, literally, indescribable.
Woo? I think not.
How many stupid people do you know of? Some of my blogging friends seem to be able to make stupid people lists many pages long. So I thought I’d try making a list of my own. Here it is:
As you might possibly observe, it’s a decidedly short list. I can’t think of a single stupid person.
I can think of plenty of stupid things that have been said by a great many people (including some by yours truly).
I can think of plenty of stupid ideas that have been held by a great many people (including some by yours truly).
I can think of plenty of stupid actions that have been performed by a great many people (including some by yours truly).
I only see the words, ideas or actions as stupid, never the speaker, thinker or actor. Am I the only person with this perspective?
So the sixty-four thousand dollar question is: Is this (a) a stupid perspective, (b) the perspective of a stupid person, or (c) something else?
John Shelby Spong has often been described as a controversial theologian, and by many conservative and fundamentalists Christians as being a heretic or to have left the faith completely. On the other hand, to many Christians, and myself (although I don’t self identify as <em>Christian</em>), he has had an influential hand in dragging Christianity out of the dark ages.
Bishop Spong died on September 12 at the age of 90. Perhaps he’s best known for promoting a non-literal interpretation of the Bible, for which he has also received the most criticism. But it’s necessary to remember that he has been a strong advocate for LGBTQI+ and women’s rights, including clerical roles within the Episcopal Church. Those that knew him recognised his message was one of love and justice – something that is often absent in the modern world, both secular and religious.
Spong believed that taking a literal interpretation of the bible was to miss the truth behind its teachings. In this he held similar ideas to those of modern theologians such as Don Cupitt and my favourite, Sir Lloyd Geering. However, such thinking is not new and there has been a long tradition of theologians who have argued that taking the Bible literally is to misunderstand the intent of the stories it tells.
The Rev. Canon Kelly Brown Douglas, the dean of the Episcopal Divinity School at Union Theological Seminary stated “What he truly came to understand is doctrine, dogma, doesn’t make us Christian. Doctrine, dogma, doesn’t make us church. What makes us church is respecting the sacredness of every single human being and creating a world that does that and making sure the church is leading the world in doing that.” With regards to doctrine and dogma, and creating a world that respects the sacredness of all people, I concur. Whether it’s the Church or some other social structure that does the leading is unimportant to me.
Bishop John Shelby Spong is survived by his wife Christine, five children and six Grandchildren.
The worst, the people hate,
The next best, the people fear,
The next best, the people honour and praise.
But for the best leaders, the people do not notice their existence.
When the best leader’s work is done, the people say, “We did it ourselves!
Lao Tzu, 4th century BC
The more I think about it, the more I think Lao Tzu is right
Nicholas Agar, Professor of Ethics in the Philosophy programme at Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington, suggests that our handling of the pandemic could be partly down to our distinctive Treaty of Waitangi relationship, and Māori ideas that enabled us to make it through without tens of thousands of deaths.
Here’s a question. How should we explain our success against the pandemic? Clearly, there are a few factors. The virus arrived comparatively late, meaning we could learn from other nations’ successes and messes; we had inspirational and scientifically-informed leaders; we are an affluent island-based nation with a comparatively small population.
I offer as a conjecture that our success can be partly traced back to our defining Treaty of Waitangi relationship and the way it brings together two peoples with different ideas about the world and how to inhabit it.
Has the Treaty played a role in our Covid success? – Newsroom
Agar suggests that it is the blend of individualistic ideas of European settlers, mostly British, and the collectivist thinking of the Māori that has been the success story of the pandemic. Unlike the “don’t tread on me!” attitude of many in the West, the authorities in Aotearoa New Zealand have been able to introduce measures that we have, by in large, accepted as necessary under the circumstances.
Elsewhere similar measures have been implemented only where the draconian powers of an authoritarian state exist, such as in China. The means by which the Wuhan authorities suppressed community transmission of the virus would, I believe, have been no more acceptable here than in America. The concept of a “team of 5 million” is, I believe, a direct result of the way our two very different cultures with different world views are merging.
The opinion piece by Nicholas Agar can be found on the Newsroom website: Has the Treaty played a role in our Covid success?
If you haven’t read the article (below) by Padre Steve, do so. It has relevance to every nation, every community, every social group. This quote from one of the commenters on that blog ring true:
The quote by Martin Luther King comes to me often these days: “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
jilldennison
Friends of Padre Steve’s World, I have to admit that the amount of ignorance in the defense of evil that I see daily is simply mind blowing. It makes me shake my head. But then I cannot be surprised anymore. Over the weekend I saw a poll in which nine percent of Americans said that […]
“Say I Slew Them Not” Genocide, Crimes Against Humanity, and the U.S. Response to COVID19 — The Inglorius Padre Steve’s World
I have mixed feelings about the Extinction Rebellion movement. Not because I disagree with their cause – I support it one hundred percent, including the urgency expressed – but because I’m concerned that some of their tactics might do more to alienate them from the general public than to bring them on board.
I have no objection if the movement crosses swords with authority – In fact I don’t think there’s any other option, but unless the public has more sympathy with the Extinction Rebellion cause than they do with authority, and the irritation they personally experience from the disruptions the movement is intent on implementing, then I’m afraid that nothing will change.
Politicians, are sensitive to what they perceive as being majority voices and significant minorities, but are unlikely to listen, let alone act, if they sense the public is not behind the movement. This is particularly true where politicians are elected through an FPP (First Past the Post) procedure.
That being said, what are the alternatives? To be honest, I haven’t reached a conclusion. What I do believe is that the longer the public delay in pressuring out leaders to legislate for a carbon neutral society, the more draconian the legislation and the more authoritarian the authorities will need to be when the do act.
Over on her blog, Clare has published a series on Extinction Rebellion, and in her most recent post – Extinction Rebellion III, she quotes from the UK Quaker Advices and Queries. Specifically:
The three points have inspired me to re-appraise, where I stand on the environment and I realise my contribution towards a carbon neutral regime is little more than tokenism, and I need to take a more affirmative stance.
Advices and Queries of Quakers of Aotearoa – Te Hāhi Tūhauwiri contains similar advice:
E7: Are you careful that your use of financial resources is in accordance with our values of integrity, peace, equality, simplicity, and concern for other people and for the environment?
I have put most of my effort in relation to the environment into careful use, but I realise this is really not enough by itself. I need to do more.
E8: Do not be content to accept society as it is. Seek to discover the causes of social unrest, injustice, poverty and fear. Bear witness to the humanity of all people. Try to discern the new growing points in society.
Are you alert to practices here and throughout the world that discriminate against people on the basis of who or what they are or because of their beliefs? Do you work for a social, constitutional and economic order which will allow each person to develop fully and cooperation by all?
Young people of today have a genuine fear for their future, not unlike the fear that many of my generation in the 1960s and 1970s had with regards to nuclear proliferation. Except that whereas our fear was of those in power doing something (launching a nuclear war), that of the youth today is fear of those in power not doing something (preventing a climate change catastrophe).
E14: We need to respect, revere and cooperate with other life systems on our planet. The earth’s diverse riches are not ours to exploit. Seek reverence for life and a sense of wonder at God’s continuing presence in all of creation.
Do you work to conserve the earth’s beauty and resources, both now and in the future, for the many people who depend on this planet and the many other species that share it?
The more extreme effects of climate change are unlikely to affect me. I’ll be gone before they kick in. But it is during what’s left of my life that the the seeds to an irreversible climate runaway will be set. Surely I have a responsibility to help set in motion steps that will reverse the harm my generation and earlier generations have caused and are continuing to cause.
E10: Remember your responsibility as citizens of Aotearoa for the government of our country and for its relations with other countries, particularly our neighbours in the South Pacific.
How can we help our nation to promote international peace, justice and care for the earth?
Our country already has in place legislation requiring a move to carbon neutrality, but there is little incentive for government and industry to reach the targets in an orderly and progressive manner. It’s also apparent that the targets are set too far in the future in light of recent evidence of accelerating climate change. This is an area where I can do more in joining with others to raise the awareness of the urgency of acting now. Which brings me to:
E4: Obey the laws of the state, except when they conflict with your inner conviction. Work to amend laws that you consider unjust. If you feel called to civil disobedience, seek the guidance and support of your Meeting. Be prepared to accept the consequences cheerfully.
Is it time for me to get off the fence regarding the Extinction Rebellion movement and join their ranks, or encourage the use of their tactics? What can I do proactively to promote the concerns expressed by the movement?
For me, blogging is about the comfortable limit to social interaction. Talking to strangers joining crowds, being noticed, is way outside my comfort zone. When I joined in the vigil outside the local mosque on the Friday after the Christchurch shootings, it was a silent and solemn affair. Solidarity with the Muslim community was expressed simply by being there. In a crowd of several thousand I spoke with no-one, and made eye contact with no-one. That made it bearable. How can I be an effective voice when it comes to expressing urgency over climate change when I’m so non-social? Perhaps I should simply be mindful of the words of George fox who stated in 1656:
Be patterns, be examples in all countries, places, islands, nations, wherever you come, that your carriage and life may preach among all sorts of people, and to them; then you will come to walk cheerfully over the world, answering that of God in every one.
But is that enough? No doubt this concern (about climate change) is going to haunt me until I have determined what role I can play.
Sometimes a quote jumps out at me, and in a few words, states what I struggle to convey in several pages. This is one of them:
“It has been my conviction ever since reading Rauschenbusch that any religion which professes to be concerned about the souls of men and is not concerned about the social and economic conditions that scar the soul, is a spiritually moribund religion only waiting for the day to be buried.”
Martin Luther King Jr Stride Toward Freedom: The Montgomery Story (1958)
These were the words my daughter used to accompany a video clip sent to me via WhatsApp earlier today. To me they are very humbling words indeed. This is not because in any way we were directly involved in facilitating “this” to happen, although perhaps there is an indirect link in that we provided child care and dog sitting services at times to enable her to make “this” happen.
Instead I would like to think that what she is showing appreciation for is in regards to the values we encouraged her to develop, and which she expresses – participation in “this” being but one example. I’m uncomfortable using the word “proud” for my part in her development because it can be used in ways that are closer to boasting, and I don’t want to imply that our daughter is who she is simply because we as her parents made her that way.
I’m convinced that the saying “It takes a village to raise a child” is accurate, and as parents, we are just one of the many influences that have played out in our children’s and grandchildren’s lives. And even in saying that, we have to acknowledge that we too are products of the environment in which we developed, including parents, whānau, and the wider community. So I cannot claim be the originator of any of the values my offspring hold dear. At best, I’ve been a conduit, and perhaps, only in a very small way, an enabler.
I acknowledge that I have often fallen short as a parent, and it has been my children who have shown me how to be a better parent and human being, and for that I will be forever grateful. And yet our daughter takes a moment to say “You and mum help make this happen”. I can’t find a word or phrase that describes my reaction to her statement, but I hope the sentiments are clear enough from what I have written here.
As to the “this” referred to above, I have been contemplating whether or not to identify the occasion. My reason is that I’m somewhat anonymous on this blog. Although there’s enough information available for anyone to discover my real identity if they had a mind to, it would take a small amount of work to do so. And the possibility of someone who knows me stumbling across this blog is extremely small.
Experience during my formative years taught me to be cautious about how I expressed myself, and I learnt the hard way that there are boundaries (which I still can’t always recognise) that can’t be crossed without very unpleasant consequences. Although I believe our society is far more tolerant and liberal today, the caution within me remains. The relative anonymity provided by this blog allows me to express views that I would be reluctant to share in the “real world”.
But in light of the fact that “this” is a public expression opposing the very thing that makes me so cautious, I cannot help but feel duty-bound to share it here, even at the risk of making my identity easier to discover. I could perhaps not mention that our daughter identifies herself by name and role in one of the Facebook video clips linked to below, but I want to publicly acknowledge that one of my greatest teachers about life has been my daughter, which is why I find her statement humbling.
“This” refers to a local street party declaring that bullying is not acceptable. It is never “character building”. Its only function is to cause harm.
Daniel Stride's Blog
Just your everyday average human attempting to start a blog
*three snaps*
About me, my life and MS
Things I want to say about this, that, and the other thing.
Promoting Autistic Experience
Seeking Dialogue to Inform, Enlighten, and/or Amuse You and Me
Independent views from someone who offers some historical context
Come see what I share
Autism late diagnosis , learning about autism and getting older at the same time.
Neurodiversity Support, Advocacy, and Coaching in Manitoba
...expression about social justice, wrongful convictions, and current events
I write about things.
an insider's experience
I'm just a neurodiverse girl, standing in front of a PhD, asking it to be completed.
Welcome to the Divergent Revolution.
an aimless, unprincipled blog by Anna Nicholson
Intersection of Faith, Mutual Aid, and Abolition
Welcome — Come Immerse, Convalesce, Spark Dialogue or Simply Discern
Transgender, Irawhiti Takatāpui, and Intersex NZ
Science Fiction Writer of Sorts
jimbrux.wordpress.com
A Daily Journal of "Having My Say"
Autistic Consultant & Trainer
Experiments in Teaching, Learning, Understanding
Loving, creative, graceful, beautiful
An American living in New Zealand, I write whenever I get the urge about life, music, books, comics, movies, and more.
Women's Health Organisation
A place for my ponderings, thoughts, and verbal diarrhoea
Creating NeurodiVentures and equipping Autistic people for collaboration for life
Aphantastic, Autistic, and Bitter
Looking for choice morsels of currents affairs, culture, and politics to chew on. Or spit out hastily. It depends.
Canada - to - New Zealand
Writing writing and more writing
You never know what you're gonna get.
Knowledge archaeologist by day and neurodivergent anthropologist by night
Authentic Journals to Augment Journeys
Cogito Ergo Sum
A blog of introspection
Questioning the conventional wisdom
Another Spectrum 
You must be logged in to post a comment.