My office overlooks our city’s Civic Square. It is the most spectacular view. Every day as I look out any of the numerous windows that line the walls I always take the time to soak in the moment and feel grateful. These windows are living picture frames. The natural, every day art works enclosed within these rectangles always move me in some way. I am forever grabbing my camera to try and capture the memory of what I see before me but none of these photos ever truly do justice to the experience of what I see and feel.

Today as I was working away one of my colleagues told me to look out the window. I saw an older couple walking across the square holding hands. They seemed so in tune and connected with one another. They looked like they loved and cared for one another. I found myself smiling as I watched them walk.

“That’s what you and Lynsey will be like,” my colleague said to me.

As I reflected on this scene I remembered a poem Lynsey and I read to each other on our wedding day – Let’s grow old together.

Let’s grow old together …
beginning with today.
Let’s work slowly with each other and build a relationship that we can both enjoy being a part of.
Let’s share love and understand that neither of us is perfect; we are both subject to human frailties.
Let’s hold each other close and whisper though the night – pledging our love, honouring our commitment.
Let’s encourage each other to pursue our dreams, even when we’re weary from trying.
Let’s expect the best that we both have to give and still love when we fall short of our expectations.
Let’s be friends and respect each other’s individual personality and give one another room to grow.
Let’s be candid with each other and point out strengths and weaknesses.
Let’s understand each other’s personal philosophy, even if we don’t agree.
Let’s lie awake long into the night sharing our innermost secrets.
Let’s be friends as well as lovers.
Let’s laugh at time and plan with each other and wonder how we ever got along without this love we’ve found.
Let’s never take for granted these moments that we’ve shared, but always be reminded of how intensely we have learned to live, how completely we have learned to love.
Let’s grow old together…
and look back on life and smile.
- Braxton Brown and Peggy Smith

Manifesto
03. Every day is an opportunity to reflect on the past.
04. Every day is an opportunity to cultivate the promise of the future.
05. Every day is now. The present moment.

It’s true you can’t live here by chance, you have to do and be, not simply watch or even describe. This is the city of action, the world headquarters of the verb. — Lauris Edmond

The first time I saw this text I was completely struck by the words – how simultaneously challenging and encouraging. The words, and this sculptural work, have had a soft spot in my heart ever since.

I don’t care if you don’t live here, you can’t live where ever you live by chance – that’s just not good enough. You have to act – to do and be. Don’t be a bystander, or, merely report on what you see and find. Act on it – seize the day, seize on any straw that floats past you, and take some action.

Any small action is better than none. The effect of small actions is cumulative – in fact, where you are, what you are, all are a result of small actions and inactions that you have or haven’t made.

Manifesto
06. Every day you make choices.
08. Every day choose to bring about change.
26. Every day take action. Every small step counts.

With what kind of voice
        would the spider cry
in the autumn wind? — Basho

For the moment, not even a breeze – while we’re waiting for the storm due in the next few days. I rush out for a quick sandwich and cast about for the photo – actually it’s the sight, the eye full, the glimpse, the snap of the moment – that’s how to capture the moment of the photo of the day. I made a similar photo back in October, and wrote about the beautiful toffee and butterscotch colours. And then there are the horizontal, arched, and triangular pediments on the old AMP building behind – lovely, but I can’t work out why – perhaps the architect was indecisive.

Today is budget day – ironic how everything seems to be paused – holding our breath – waiting. More tax or less? Will we be richer, or poorer? Me? I’ll be richer for the view and for the photo, and we’ll all just have to wait for the storm that follows.

Manifesto
30. Every day use all your senses. Touch. Smell. Taste. Hear. See.
44. Every day remember how far you have come.
47. Every day you are responsible.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
– Invictus – William Ernest Henley (1849–1903)

Mysteriously, the truck in front of us today raised some interesting questions, or perhaps posed some interesting challenges. Should we always back the safe options? What would we learn from backing wild horses? Who was this graffiti artist who can combine the ideas of backing wild horses and Invictus so improbably on the back of a truck waiting for the traffic lights?

Manifesto
16. Every day looking at the order of things gives you power.
23. Every day retain your personal power. It belongs to you. No one else.
27. Every day pain is a sign of growing.

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire in thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art?
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand, and what dread feet?

What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb, make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? — William Blake 1789

Some days it’s hard to see the tigers. They’re there, of course, but you have to look very hard. When they stop moving they blend in and they’re nigh on invisible. And that’s part of their charm.

Manifesto
14. Every day the ordinary can be the extraordinary.
17. Every day look through a new lens.
32. Every day have a laugh.

Plume of pampas grass

Hush, my lonely heart — Issa

After the early days of Spring, after the Tuis have gorged themselves on the nectar, the flower stems of the harekeke, the flax bush are left to their own devices. The wind grabs them and flings them around brushing impulsive calligraphy in the misty air. Any seeds are flung away – no-one wants to be crowded in on days like this.

Down in the valley, people are heading home on yellow buses or in cars, finally the weekend. There’s a lightness of step though. Friday night, fish’n'chips, takeaways, anything to scrape off the workday drudge. Tomorrow – sport in the morning, doing the dishes, walking the dog, practicing music, family’s coming home, doing the garden, reading the paper, having a coffee, shopping, going to the match – it’s always the same, but tomorrow, tomorrow’s always better, much better in the weekend.

Manifesto
01. Every day is a fresh new day.
05. Every day is now. The present moment.
13. Every day be better than you were the day before.

The clouds had turned black and the first few drops of rain had started to fall. I was weaving my way along the street trying to avoid knocking into people. It was lunch time and there were people everywhere. As I rushed past my favourite bookshop, Unity Books, something caught my eye but I kept moving. Believe me, I need to avoid this shop – it always lures me in with its promise of endless delights and I struggle to leave without clutching at least one new book. I couldn’t stand not knowing what I had seen so I backtracked to take a closer look. Yes, the bookshop managed to get its hooks into me and slowly the reeling in process began.

Written in chalk on the pavement in front of the shop window was a poem by well known and loved New Zealand poet Sam Hunt. As an aside, I’ll have you know that I’ve sat next to Sam Hunt, and his dog Minstrel, during mass once at St Marys of the Angels, many moons ago. I recognised him immediately as his sat down. I even got to share the “peace be with you” hand shake with him. I thought of this as I read his words …

Just now and then there’s meaning -
like when the nor’westers drop.
Before a southerly sets up.
Just now and then, like this morning.
– Sam Hunt (from Doubtless, new and selected poems).

The rain had started to fall but I didn’t move. The words stayed with me as I sought refuge inside the shop (well, that’s the excuse I’m giving you).

The words “meaning” and “morning” kept playing in my head like a broken record. I found myself thinking about a few days earlier, Wednesday morning to be exact, and the meaning behind what happened.

I arrived at work as usual. Turned on my computer and began to read my emails. Very quickly as I read the most recent email in my Inbox I was reminded that nothing is ever “usual” – it may be familiar but it is always different.

The message read …

There is a potential tsunami risk to New Zealand from the 8.3 magnitude earthquake that occurred off the coast of the Samoan Islands at 0648 hours NZDT … people in low-lying areas near the coast should stay tuned to radio stations and be prepared to immediately evacuate if warned by authorities.

As we began to receive regular alerts and updates a new reality unfolded. Would we have to evacuate? As I looked out the window at our beloved harbour I knew how mean it could become, how quickly it could change into something to be feared. Was this going to happen this morning? As New Zealanders worried about whether our coast was going to be struck by a tsunami our Pacific Island neighbours had already experienced the power and devastation from this much feared aftermath of a big earthquake only they had no warning. It was upon them before they could do much more than run as fast as they could. Only running from a wave in normal conditions is generally a futile exercise let alone being faced with a wave up to eight metres high. Imagine the force and the power behind that wall of water.

Stories began to appear in the media of the havoc that had taken place in Samoa. I felt sick.

“Sea disappeared, then swallowed resort.” [Stuff, 30 Sept 2009]

“No water, just coral. The water go back. Very fast we understand it is a tsunami. It’s not low tide – there is a difference … When we go back we see all my resort is gone … We’re very lucky we’re alive.” [Daniela Brussani, 30 Sept 2009, Stuff].

“I went out early in the morning for a surf, then I felt the tremor – you get them all the time in New Zealand so I didn’t really think too much of it – then I went out in the water and caught a few waves … All of a sudden the water went real weird, it kind of glassed off and got real lumpy, then we started moving real quick, getting sucked out to sea … It was pretty scary looking back and seeing the reef completely dried up. It looked like a volcanic riverbed – it was just gone.” [Chris Nel, 2 October 2009, Stuff]

“Family loses 13 members in tsunami.” [Stuff, 2 October 2009]

“After the earthquake we thought there was not going to be a wave … But it happened so fast we couldn’t do anything.” [Sepoima Lauoletolo, 2 October 2009, Stuff]

“The main damage is our relationship with the ocean, which we grew up seeing as our friend and a place where we can fish and swim. That’s going to change forever.” [Samoa's deputy prime minister Misa Telefoni, 30 October 2009, Stuff]

Sam Hunt’s poem made me reflect on the meaning of what happened on that fateful Wednesday morning.

Stories of horror, heroism, and survival have reminded me of the fragility of human life and our impermanence but also our strength. We think we are indestructible. We’re not. We can be strong. We can be more than we ever imagined and so often in times when we are challenged we discover a part of ourselves that we never knew existed.

There are forces greater than us that will determine our future. It is awful that things have been destroyed but they can be rebuilt – and they will be. What is irreplaceable is the loss of life. Children and adults – they were loved by someone. They mattered. They were important. They are now lost and can’t be returned. Things have gone unsaid. There may be regrets. There will be questions. People will be asking why? There will also be the joy of the things that have been experienced rather than just dreamed about. Memories are now all that are left. Thank goodness they have these.

Someone is grieving for the loss of a loved one tonight – taken from them without warning. Tragedies like this are happening every day all over the globe. Only this time it was much closer to home for me. It is a reminder that it doesn’t just happen to other people. We are all vulnerable. This could be us today or tomorrow. We’ll never know when.

Tell the people you love that they matter to you. Show them what they mean to you. This moment might be your last chance to do so.

By the way, I left the bookshop with not one but three books and I went back later to get one other thing. This bookshop knows how to fish – they baited the hook, threw out the line, had a nibble, got a bite, reeled me in, and released me ready for another fresh new day. They are well seasoned at the tag and release process.

Manifesto
05. Every day is now. The present moment.
18. Every day express love. Some people need to hear it. Most people need to see it. Don’t take it for granted.
39. Every day trust that there is a bigger picture. You are a part of it even if you may not know what it is.

In the afternoon light I could see a woman’s silhouette in the glass panel of our team’s main meeting room. From the hallway I watched mesmerised by the shapes and patterns created by the light. I stood there wondering how the woman’s meeting was going. Ironically, I was about to go into a meeting myself. Oh yes, meetings … an integral part of my working day.

Meetings
Poem by Mick Leigh

I’m going to a meeting to talk about a meeting, we had at a meeting just the other day.
If you really want to see them you better hold a meeting
cos it’s the only way to see them and really have your say.
Sorry they can’t see you cos they’re all in a meeting,
what’s it all about, I really can’t say.
When you go to a meeting, do lots of nail biting,
but don’t let them see that you haven’t got a clue.
When they ask you a question say more than likely or even absolutely,
it’s entirely up to you.

So when you go to a meeting take notice of the seating
and who is in the chair so you know exactly where,
as you climb the corporate ladder and your life becomes madder
by knowing to agree or just wait and see,
cos it won’t take long to sing the corporate song
and your future is assured and you’ll never be bored,
cos the minutes of the meeting are never worth repeating,
and you’ve got to have a quorum if you really want to bore ‘em.

So look very serious, even though you are delirious
and make sure you focus on all the hocus pocus
and look at Madam Chair and her most ridiculous hair
and the earrings she’s wearing are enough to keep you staring,
you can wonder what she does when she really needs a buzz,
it must be very scary and really quite contrary,
now they’re asking questions and calling for suggestions,
so I think I’ll move motion and cause a commotion,
that we all go home!

Manifesto
14. Every day the ordinary can be the extraordinary.
17. Every day look through a new lens.
22. Every day refine, clarify and simplify.