Nature as Mediator
I fell into a deep, dark hole.
I needed a way back. On a return flight from Auckland, a stranger beside me leaned in and shared her quiet strength. Through the gentle sharing of her own heartbreak, she encouraged me to listen for the music in nature—to really hear it.
At first, I wasn’t sure what she meant. But I held on to her words.
And slowly, I began to notice something I hadn’t paid much attention to before. The natural world around me was alive with sound. We are surrounded by an orchestra—if we’re listening. A force strong enough to carry us through, even when we can barely stand.
What had once felt like an incessant racket in my rural home —the clamour of birds—became a soothing balm for my soul. I started leaning in, deliberately, catching the melody whenever I could. I felt deeply grateful to live amongst trees and their noisy, spirited homeowners.
To my surprise even the wind became my friend. I watched a westerly roar across the paddocks, twisting an ancient rākau into an elegant sway. Now I crave the rustling leaves of the tī kōuka and the soft swoosh of the kererū flying overhead.
And somewhere along the way, I noticed a change in myself.
I began to find peace—even in conflict. The kinds of situations that once overwhelmed me now feel different. I’ve realised that the steadiness I sought was inside me all along. And when I forget, I remember I can lean into something greater than myself. I can straighten my back. Breathe. Listen.
If you find yourself caught in the middle of conflict—whether in your whānau, workplace, or community—I encourage you to PAUSE. Step outside. Take a breath. Tune into the natural world around you.
Sometimes resolution doesn’t come from pushing harder. Sometimes, it arrives gently—carried on the wings of a kererū.
As a mediator and restorative justice facilitator, I hold space for people navigating difficult conversations. If you're seeking a grounded, compassionate approach to resolving conflict, I’d love to connect.
