As we celebrate 60 years of self governance, with the theme “Kua kite au i toku turanga, e avaiki toku – I know who I am, I have a homeland” – we also reflect on significant moments for us as a country, writes Thomas Tarurongo Wynne.
The care with which the TCA is managed is clear, preserving its unique ecosystems and biodiversity, writes Gemma Langley.
No sooner have the celebrations of Christmas and New Years passed, the Christmas tree packed away and remnants of time together cleaned up and we are faced as a community with manslaughter and reported thefts of livelihood and crops all around the island.
A friend of mine told me with a smile that “a New Year resolution is meant to be broken.” That is quite true given our ill-discipline and general tendency not to stick with our resolutions in life.
The beginning of a brand new year is an ideal time to wipe the slate clean and set our hearts and minds on positive change.
As 2017 comes to a close I can almost hear myself conjuring up New Year’s resolutions for the coming 52 weeks, 12 months and 365 days.
I remember our first Christmas in the Park on Aitutaki five years ago.
The bright white Sunbeam mixer would drop down into the almost clear mix of egg whites as my Aunty Mata would add the vinegar and other condiments to a frothy mix till it was like cream.
It's the season for families to gather for the holidays.
“My sons have left,” he said, perched in a chair across from me.
The victorious Cook Islands netball team returned to Rarotonga a couple of days ago, beaming with pride.
Recently there has been discussion relating to encouraging the use of Cook Islands Maori (te reo) as the primary language in the home with everyday conversation including dialects across the Cook Islands being the target.
I noted the other day that applications for people and agencies to be considered for the prestigious Cook Islands Tourism Awards were open.
“When am I considered a Cook Islander?” he asked me as we sat there watching the sun slowly set on another busy day.
Last weekend I watched my grandchildren wading out into the lagoon with fishing poles during a village fishing contest and barbecue.
They say a day in politics is a long time.
After reading my column today, I have no doubt the Agriculture minister will say, “What does she know about agriculture?”
I recently saw a video on Facebook that moved me deeply.
As we sat at a table laden with food, vegetables, corn, pineapples, paka and everything else you would have at a Mangaian church kaikai, the people sang behind us.
In New Zealand, the country, where close to 90,000 Cook Islanders live as a matter of right by virtue of holding New Zealand citizenship, the prime minister is a woman.
For everything there is a season. Each significant change brings us to a fork in the road, a new decision point. The question arises: What season is this in my life? A life-changing loss of someone close, as I have experienced in the last year, can turn us inside out. When the last child leaves the home nest, when we retire, develop an illness, make a move, there is a vacancy of the familiar that sooner or later must be filled. A new homecoming beckons on the other side of the emptiness. We are called to reassess, review and revise our life design. If we choose to make this a mindful process, it can lead us to fresh happiness. As author Christina Baldwin says, “Change is the egg of the phoenix.” It is in the human spirit to rise from the ashes over and over. A friend whose husband died recently told me in a tearful phone call, “I need to move. This house is all about ‘us.’ I need to find my way to ‘me.’” People promised me, in the midst of my bereavement, that I would eventually get to the other side. Thankfully, that happened. I find that this cataclysmic change has created a new space in my life. I am aware that like Alice, I can fall into a hole, or venture deeply into trust, taking the necessary time to discern what this season of my life will hold. This is what I have discovered so far. Being is more important than doing. My brother John grew in virtues as he faced his own death. He dived deeply into trust, gratitude, awe and joy. As he let go of doing — driving, working, cr
It’s a numb, incredulous feeling that almost passes through us when we hear the tragedy of a person passing in an accident.
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