My whānau recently had at our iwi ahurei at Pakikaikutu, near Whangarei. For those unfamiliar with the term, an ahurei is akin to a festival- for our iwi it travels from papakainga to papakainga, filled with whakapapa kōrero, games, whakawhanaungatanga, and a shared space to collectively strengthen our Māoritanga - iwitanga.

As always, it turned out to be exactly what I needed, even if I didn’t recognize it at the time.

In the weeks leading up to the ahurei, I found myself overwhelmed and busy, racing around and juggling countless responsibilities. By the time the weekend arrived, I was exhausted and stressed. The thought of going away felt daunting, especially with a toddler in tow. I even considered leaving my kotiro at home with my partner and going alone with my dad and sister. Then my sister said something that resonated deeply: “Why would you leave her when we are doing this for her?” At that moment, I realized she was absolutely right.

Growing up, I didn’t have strong connections to my papakainga or close whakapapa links to my iwi and whenua. Strengthening those ties has been a journey for me, especially for my kotiro. I made a commitment to my whānau when she was born, urging us all to show up for her in these spaces and reinforce our whakapapa connections. Yet, in the chaos of life, I had lost sight of that promise.

Seeing my kotiro at the marae, surrounded by her people, making friends, and fully embracing her Māori identity was incredibly nourishing. Watching her hand-in-hand with her koro was a healing moment that reminded me of our whakapapa.

She has been a rongoā for our whānau. While I don’t want to place the burden of our healing on her, her very presence serves as a reminder—a tohu—of our purpose and why we are on this journey of strengthening whakapapa.

This experience had me reflecting a lot on how we all tend to rush through the final months of the year, myself included. I’ve observed a familiar pattern among those I work with: people feeling overdue for a holiday but pushing through, thinking they can hold out until Christmas and New Year’s.

In this process, we often say “yes” to too many commitments, filling our schedules to the brim. I’m guilty of this myself, believing I can power through. But the danger is real—when we continue to expend our emotional and mental energy without replenishing ourselves, we can end up feeling completely drained by the time the break finally arrives.

Some things i am trying to put into action to counteract the rush and prevent me potentially missing out or overlooking the important things:

• Value Connection: Prioritizing time with whānau and community strengthens bonds and nurtures our cultural identity. Engaging with our roots can provide a sense of belonging and purpose.

• Listen to Your Instincts: When feeling overwhelmed, take a moment to reflect. What is making me overwhelmed? What can I change? What needs rebalancing?

• Set Boundaries: It’s crucial to recognize our limits and say “no” when necessary. Overcommitting can lead to burnout, so be mindful of what you take on, especially during busy periods.

• Plan Care time: Regularly schedule breaks or downtime to recharge. Whether it’s a holiday or a quiet weekend, intentional time away from responsibilities can help restore balance.

• Embrace Slowness: In a fast-paced world, finding moments of slowness—through mauritau, nature, or simply pausing to breathe—can enhance mental and emotional wellbeing.

• Reflect on Your Why: Connecting with your purpose and values, especially in the context of family and culture, can provide motivation and clarity during stressful times.

• Create Space for Healing: Recognize that everyone has their role in the family’s wellbeing. While tamariki can be reminders of our journeys, it’s important not to place the burden of healing on them.

• Balance Responsibilities and Joy: Aim to integrate joy and connection into your daily life, not just during special events or holidays. Small moments of joy can make a significant difference.

Here are some pataia to help decide if you should say yes to a kaupapa

• Is this kaupapa aligned with my values and goals?

• Will participating in this kaupapa enrich my life or my whānau's life in a meaningful way?

• Do I have the energy and resources to contribute effectively without feeling overwhelmed?

• Am I able to fully engage and give my best to this kaupapa?

• Is there someone else who could take this on, allowing me to focus on other commitments?

• Will saying “yes” to this kaupapa bring me joy or fulfillment, or is it a sense of obligation?

• What would I be sacrificing by committing to this kaupapa, and is it worth it?