Thank you for sharing this meditation, David. Have you had the experience of moving to live in a place where you did *not* experience whenua -- or even experienced the opposite? A place that drained and sapped your life force?
I've experienced both as an adult, and the contrast could not have been more pronounced for me.
I hadn't thought of it quite this way when I wrote it, but your question has me thinking that 'whenua' may not be transactional so much as transformational. The places that nourish us don't simply give to us. They give us enough that we have something to give back — or give to others.
It's a little like electricity: you can draw power from a light socket, but you can also plug a generator into the system and send power back into it. Perhaps our relationship with place can work that way, too. When there is something in the place that nourishes us, we have more to bring to the people and places around us. When there isn't enough coming back, the relationship can begin to feel like a drain rather than a source of life.
Maybe part of life is learning to recognize the difference — and knowing when it's time to unplug from the things that continually deplete us.
I love this. It is not easy to figure out what exactly to hold onto, but I definitely feel the legacy piece of this.
Thanks for reading! I appreciate your insights!
Thank you for sharing this meditation, David. Have you had the experience of moving to live in a place where you did *not* experience whenua -- or even experienced the opposite? A place that drained and sapped your life force?
I've experienced both as an adult, and the contrast could not have been more pronounced for me.
I hadn't thought of it quite this way when I wrote it, but your question has me thinking that 'whenua' may not be transactional so much as transformational. The places that nourish us don't simply give to us. They give us enough that we have something to give back — or give to others.
It's a little like electricity: you can draw power from a light socket, but you can also plug a generator into the system and send power back into it. Perhaps our relationship with place can work that way, too. When there is something in the place that nourishes us, we have more to bring to the people and places around us. When there isn't enough coming back, the relationship can begin to feel like a drain rather than a source of life.
Maybe part of life is learning to recognize the difference — and knowing when it's time to unplug from the things that continually deplete us.
You've given me a lot to think about!