Post by Tamatoa Harikoa on Feb 19, 2019 23:28:23 GMT -4
December 24th, 2018
Thus I began the journey to discover what was missing.
My journey of discovery would take me to the very core of my being, challenge myself like I had never been challenged before, inside or outside of the ring. Only when that journey had broken what little shred of dignity I had left, what little part of the Hardcore Kiwi still remained, would I find it's value. I was at rock bottom, with the only way forward to claw my way back up. Piece by blasted piece.
Two years.
This was not an undertaking for the faint hearted. And once that journey had begun, once I was past the point of no return. There was no turning back. I could never again become what I had been before.
"E tu, Toa."
Hayden has come to know the voice well over the past two years. The old man. Those closest to him, warriors that had completed their training and proven themselves in battle, called him Maui. Hayden was only permitted to call him Matua, meaning teacher. Even as Hayden knelt before him, eyes at the ground, he could hear the difference in the stern old bugger's voice. A hint of a tone that he had not heard before. Pride.
"He aha te mea nui o te ao? He tangata, he tangata, he tangata."
Hayden lifted his head at the words he had now come to know...
'What is the most important thing in life? It is people, it is people, it is people.'
The context of which, he was unsure about reading. When he looked up at the old man's face, filled with a thousand wrinkles, a smile beamed back at him like he had never seen before.
"You have spent the better part of two years studying the ways of your forgotten people. And now, as you show yourself worthy to be called one of us... I consider you one of our people. Our ways, now your ways. Our culture, now your culture. What was old has now been born anew."
He holds his hands over Hayden, letting a handful of dust and dirt from the ground fall over him.
"Born of the earth as ka tangata whenua... A person of the land. Rise mighty warrior. E tu toa. To your own field of battle you must return, but you do so not as you were. Through finding yourself, your path has been revealed. I, Maui ki tuhanga ō pōtiki... The direct descendant of Maui-Pōtiki himself, instil in you the power of our people.
The power of Maui, the demi-god of the wind and seas, runs through my veins."
Without warning, Matua Maui cuts into the flesh of his palm with a sharpened rock, a spearhead. As blood runs down his wrist onto his forearm, he presses his bloodied hand up against Hayden's forehead. Only when the blood pours down his face does he pull it away.
"The power of Maui's blood be your blood. Go forth in his name. No longer shall you be known as Hayden HardKore...
You will now have a name with meaning, culture and power.
Tamatoa Harikoa... the smiling warrior. Rise, take your place
Kia kaha, kia toa, kia manawanui."
December 25th, 2018: Tā mōkō Ritual
There was but one more task that I needed to go through before I could return to the world that had chewed me up and spat me out. Tā Mōkō... The tattoo ritual.
Every aspect of my culture, the culture of my people would be inked onto my body. From head to toe, my flesh a human canvas that tells of the power of my people, the legends of Maui of whose blood my newfound power comes from. My face, tattoed to tell my story, my chest and back, tattoed to tell of my accomplishments. The remainder of my body tattoed to tell of my ancestory - Maui's stories.
As the first pains of the tattoist's needle were hammered into my flesh, I knew that by the end of the month-long ritual, I would truly have found myself. Clean, sober... And ready to show people just what Maui was made of.
Hayden HardKore, no more... Rise, Tamatoa Harikoa
Thus I began the journey to discover what was missing.
My journey of discovery would take me to the very core of my being, challenge myself like I had never been challenged before, inside or outside of the ring. Only when that journey had broken what little shred of dignity I had left, what little part of the Hardcore Kiwi still remained, would I find it's value. I was at rock bottom, with the only way forward to claw my way back up. Piece by blasted piece.
Two years.
This was not an undertaking for the faint hearted. And once that journey had begun, once I was past the point of no return. There was no turning back. I could never again become what I had been before.
"E tu, Toa."
Hayden has come to know the voice well over the past two years. The old man. Those closest to him, warriors that had completed their training and proven themselves in battle, called him Maui. Hayden was only permitted to call him Matua, meaning teacher. Even as Hayden knelt before him, eyes at the ground, he could hear the difference in the stern old bugger's voice. A hint of a tone that he had not heard before. Pride.
"He aha te mea nui o te ao? He tangata, he tangata, he tangata."
Hayden lifted his head at the words he had now come to know...
'What is the most important thing in life? It is people, it is people, it is people.'
The context of which, he was unsure about reading. When he looked up at the old man's face, filled with a thousand wrinkles, a smile beamed back at him like he had never seen before.
"You have spent the better part of two years studying the ways of your forgotten people. And now, as you show yourself worthy to be called one of us... I consider you one of our people. Our ways, now your ways. Our culture, now your culture. What was old has now been born anew."
He holds his hands over Hayden, letting a handful of dust and dirt from the ground fall over him.
"Born of the earth as ka tangata whenua... A person of the land. Rise mighty warrior. E tu toa. To your own field of battle you must return, but you do so not as you were. Through finding yourself, your path has been revealed. I, Maui ki tuhanga ō pōtiki... The direct descendant of Maui-Pōtiki himself, instil in you the power of our people.
The power of Maui, the demi-god of the wind and seas, runs through my veins."
Without warning, Matua Maui cuts into the flesh of his palm with a sharpened rock, a spearhead. As blood runs down his wrist onto his forearm, he presses his bloodied hand up against Hayden's forehead. Only when the blood pours down his face does he pull it away.
"The power of Maui's blood be your blood. Go forth in his name. No longer shall you be known as Hayden HardKore...
You will now have a name with meaning, culture and power.
Tamatoa Harikoa... the smiling warrior. Rise, take your place
Kia kaha, kia toa, kia manawanui."
December 25th, 2018: Tā mōkō Ritual
There was but one more task that I needed to go through before I could return to the world that had chewed me up and spat me out. Tā Mōkō... The tattoo ritual.
Every aspect of my culture, the culture of my people would be inked onto my body. From head to toe, my flesh a human canvas that tells of the power of my people, the legends of Maui of whose blood my newfound power comes from. My face, tattoed to tell my story, my chest and back, tattoed to tell of my accomplishments. The remainder of my body tattoed to tell of my ancestory - Maui's stories.
As the first pains of the tattoist's needle were hammered into my flesh, I knew that by the end of the month-long ritual, I would truly have found myself. Clean, sober... And ready to show people just what Maui was made of.
Hayden HardKore, no more... Rise, Tamatoa Harikoa
