My parents were both into languages. I remember fairly often as a child when they couldn’t think of an English word to say what they wanted to say, so they’d use a Maori or French or Japanese word. I didn’t think too much of it at the time, i supposed that maybe some concepts just weren’t part of English culture. As it turns out, the form of English used to colonise much of the world, the language of commerce, fails to clearly describe many aspects of reality clearly. This isn't an accident of history; it’s the result of a deliberate "re-engineering" of the English language that happened between 1620 and 1700. 

In the quiet of a Taitokerau morning, before the world wakes up to the noise of the "Babylonian" grind, there is a moment of pure clarity. You can feel the breath of the land—the Mauri—moving through the trees and the mist. In our traditional way of seeing, health isn’t just about the absence of sickness; it is about the state of this breath. Hauora is the "breath of life" shared between us, our tūpuna, and the whenua. When that breath is restricted, we feel it in our bodies, our minds, and our whānau.

For too long, we’ve been told that health is a private matter or a line item in a government budget. This is the "Newtonian Error" at work—treating people like separate parts in a machine. If a part breaks, we try to fix it in isolation, often ignoring the toxic soil it’s planted in. In the Babylonian system, we see health as something to be managed by "experts" in far-off buildings, usually after the damage is already done. This extractive model creates social entropy—a state of disorder where we are lonely, stressed, and disconnected from the very things that give us life.

More Than Just a Warrior

Growing up in Te Tai Tokerau, you hear the names of the great rangatira passed down like heirlooms. But history has a funny way of flattening a man. For my 4-greats grandfather, Pomare I of Ngāti Manu, the history books often get stuck on the image of the "formidable warrior"—all muskets, mana, and battlefield prowess.

But if you sit on the porch long enough and look past the colonial ink, you see a different story. Pomare I wasn't just a fighter; he was a master of Strategic Entanglement. He was the original disrupter who transformed the Bay of Islands into a global trade powerhouse. He was an architect of reality who understood that to keep his people's Rangatiratanga, he had to master the new world's tools without letting them overwrite his internal "source code".

They say the darkest part of the night is just before the dawn, but for a while there, I wasn't sure the sun was ever coming back up.

I’m going to be straight with you: this is the scariest and most vulnerable thing I’ve ever done. I’m opening up about a mental health crisis that took me right to the edge—scarily close to a final exit. I'm talking about a state of total "decoherence," where the weave of my world didn't just fray; it felt like it had completely disintegrated. In our Māori worldview, we might call this a heavy season in Te Kore—the Great Void. But as Reverend Māori Marsden taught us, Te Kore isn't just "nothingness"; it is the realm of raw potentiality.

There’s a heavy feeling hanging over our towns lately, a kind of quiet isolation that shouldn't exist in a place as connected as the North. We’re surrounded by whānau, yet the "loneliness epidemic" is hitting us hard. It’s because we’ve been sold a lie—a "Bad Explanation" that says you are a solo agent, a "self-made man" responsible only for yourself. We’ve been conditioned to think of ourselves as separate "billiard balls" clicking against each other but never truly merging. This is the Newtonian error, the architecture of Babylon, and it’s making us sick.

Kia ora e te whānau. Pull up a chair and let’s have a real talk for a moment. 🌿 We often think of our faith or our deepest beliefs as a direct, unedited download from the heavens—a fixed rock that has never changed. But if we look at the whakapapa of history, we start to see the fingerprints of men where we expected the hand of the Divine.

The truth is, much of what we call "standard doctrine" in Te Tai Tokerau was forged in the fires of political survival. In the language of physicist David Deutsch, many of these "rules" are "Bad Explanations"—ideas that are easy to vary because they served a specific person’s power rather than the universal truth of the Woven Universe.