Used by both the Māori and Pākehā (European) people of New Zealand, Kia Kaha is expressed as an affirmation, stay strong. The term of encouragement encapsulates great strength, mental and spiritual positive energy, challenge, courage, determination, skill, effort, and endurance. It is to acknowledge the journey more so than the destination.
Today marks the two year anniversary of Sarwan stepping back into my world, a sort of second beginning to our near decade journey together as friends - this time as partners. This week has been a time of reflection, remembering memories together on this little west coast island as well as up and down the Sea to Sky corridor. There have been tears and bittersweet moments.
All week this is the post that filled my head, and I put off writing it for fear of facing it. How could I reflect on kia kaha, how could I write about strength and courage when both felt elusive?
I thought about the circumstances that brought this phrase to the forefront in my head and heart. This morning I realized I could, and should, write about it this week.
The day I got the call about Sarwan’s death, his best friend closed a message to me with kia kaha. Throughout the days that followed, others among his friends and family shared the same sentiment. As I stood up to speak at his funeral, my sister leaned over and whispered, kia kaha.
For me, kia kaha has come to represent forward movement, being consistent in placing one foot in front of the other. It points to a deep reserve of strength found within, and the discovery of an outward space to hold and share with others.
At the end of what I refer to as “the funeral week” - that raw, chaotic blur of days and nights in which I crossed the Pacific, cried among his family and friends, cried alone, and sat with Sarwan to read him a letter I’d written days before - I finally went outside. The sun was shining so another of his best friends took Emily and me to the beach. The waves rolled in as we walked barefoot on the sand, a few hours to spare before our flight. Afterwards, Sarwan’s friend asked if there were any further stops to make before the airport. “Yes,” I responded. “I need to get a tattoo.” I’d never considered one before, but the idea had emerged somewhere over the Pacific, and I never second guessed it. During one of lowest weeks of my life, kia kaha found its way onto my left foot in Emily’s handwriting.
The tattoo on my foot is a symbolic reminder for me and others to keep going. To simply keep putting one foot in front of the other. To continue moving forward, rather than moving on. When my feet touch the floor in the morning, a new day has arrived - full of newness, possibility, and opportunity. Some days that’s easier to see than others.
There are times when I forget the message is there, and it surprises me a little when I am folded over in a yoga class, or pulling off my hiking socks after a day in the mountains. Each time, it makes me think of something a little different, but it’s always an invitation to honour Sarwan’s memory in the best way I can that day. A comforting, reassuring note-to-self to express the strength I can that day, and to rest in the knowing that when it feels like there is no strength at all, the journey is still in motion.
-Ali
