A Kiwi or not a Kiwi is no longer a question.

Broken Greenstone

My greenstone (New Zealand English for jade) pendant broke a few weeks ago. These things seldom happen by accident. It was quite special to me as it was a farewell gift from the Sisters of Compassion. All those present blessed the pendant and later in Tasmania I had a Tibetan Rinpoche ad a Buddhist blessing to it. I am not sad that it's no longer usable as my 'protection'or as my identity tag.

I like to think I am strong enough by now. I have learned new skills to invoke protection. Wearing a greenstone around your neck is very much a cultural thing for New Zealanders. After seven months being away I feel less and less identified with the nation. It is a land where I last lived and where I will most likely end up living again (unless a foreign, damn charming knight without armor and a golden heart will steal mine). But does that make me a New Zealander? My passport says I am, but that's for the sake of bureaucrats. Less and less do I identify with any singular culture or nation.

Having lived in various places it does not make sense anymore for me. I am happy to leave my attachment to any cultural identity behind. I feel lighter. There is less to carry on the next leg of my nomadic journey which will begin on the 27 th April. I will 'bury' my pendant remnants in the Danube before I leave here.

Kiwi in Pink.

Having said all that I was quite bemused when I was given a whole bunch of oddly shaped kiwi fruit. First I played with them (yes Mum I know, you're not supposed to play with your food, but... I had fun) and then I ate them all. Yum!

Kiwi Atol

Blue Heart

Pink Heart

Atol in Red