All the bumps
I am writing from the only shop in Piha on the West Coast of the North Island of New Zealand.
The ocean is wild. Too wild for surfing. But the locals say if we head north and east, which was the plan, we would find an almost empty beach with perfect conditions arriving in a day.
The surfer’s dream.
Our day started with a hike up to the top of the hills around Piha. My butt and legs will remind me of this adventure tomorrow. This makes me happy.
Our home for the week, Matilda, the bus converted to a van, is adequate but clearly missing two key features that make a difference. Those little things. It will take some getting used to.
Design for functionality is so key to ease of movement, access and ability.
We have a home on wheels, a map, and no agenda. I feel blessed.
Once upon a time, I used to let the little things, all the bumps, capture my full attention, allowing them to occupy real estate in my mind and ruin everything.
When you reach that stage in life where your youth is behind you, you are faced with a choice.
Which little things will you step over, and which ones will you be fierce about?
I am clear. Never step over behaviours like lying, cheating, supporting hate, cruelty, racism, misogyny and corruption. What I call Little Atrocities.
Allow the pea under the mattress and the sand in the bed to be the pea and the sand and the discomfort to be secondary to this glorious view and incredible adventure.
Photo February 24th 2025, Article written February 24th 2025
