14/06/2026
As I sit in my īkura today, I realise this may be my last īkura of the year before we move into Ruhanui the 13th month of the lunar calendar system and prepare to celebrate Matariki according to the maramataka.
At this time, we enter a season of remembrance and reflection. Te Waka o Rangi has set, and our loved ones who have passed over the last year are being prepared in Rarohenga. When Matariki rises once more, they return to us as stars, shining among the heavens.
I have been reflecting on how our tūpuna grieved collectively as a hapori. This season invites us to slow down, gather with whānau, remember those we have lost, and honour the stories they leave behind. Yet in modern Aotearoa, we often find ourselves following the Gregorian calendar, taking our longest break during summer, when traditionally there was much mahi to be done in the māra and gathering kai for the year ahead.
My īkura arrived a week early this month. It has been more painful, with greater blood loss than usual. I pay attention to these things. I have lost many loved ones this year, and I cannot help but wonder what my tinana is telling me.
As wāhine, we are gifted with a sacred time each month to cleanse, release, and grieve. While our energy may be lower, our mana is no less. In many ways, this is one of the most powerful times of our cycle. It is a time of heightened intuition, creativity, and connection to our own wairua. It is also a reminder that before we can continue caring for others, we must first tend to ourselves.
For me, this īkura feels like an invitation to release the final layers of mamae I have been carrying through this year. To let go. To trust. To heal.
I am also deeply grateful for the tāne who walks beside me. A strong tāne understands that his role is just as important. He grounds me, prepares kai, brings me chocolate when needed, sits with me through tears, and reminds me that I do not have to carry everything alone. His aroha has held me through some of my hardest moments.
And while we often speak of the cycles of wāhine, our tāne also move through cycles of release and renewal. They too need space to cleanse, process, and reconnect. Sometimes it may be through haka, through fishing, through time in nature, through mahi, or through being with their brothers. Healing is not just the responsibility of wāhine; it belongs to all of us.
As we move toward Matariki, I invite you to take a moment to reflect.
What are you carrying that is ready to be released?
Who are the loved ones you are remembering?
And how will you honour your own healing in this season?
Matariki hunga nui.
Matariki ahunga nui.
Matariki manako nui.
Mauri ora.
