Rongo Ora

08/06/2026

Tuesday 9th June 2026

07/06/2026

Whakapapa. Irish. Kidneys.

My kōtiro was talking about her grandma over in Aussie. Her grandma has cancer in the kidney. Years ago she had one kidney removed, and more recently the other one’s been affected too. But she’s still going strong. I’ve always known her as a tough woman.

It got me thinking about whakapapa and how much of who we are carries through our whānau lines. Not just genetics, but patterns, experiences, survival, resilience… even the hard stuff. When you start learning where you come from, you start to understand yourself a bit deeper too.

Her grandma is full Irish 🇮🇪 originally from Galway. And when you look at Irish history, there’s actually a lot of parallels with Māori history — colonisation, loss of language and land, famine, forced migration, survival, rebuilding life in new places. Her whānau went from Ireland to England, then later to Australia.

In the mahi I do, I look at illness through a rongoā lens — not to replace medical understanding, but to add another layer of awareness around wairua and what the body may be carrying.

From that perspective, the kidneys are often connected with scarcity, fear of not having enough, survival-type trauma. So when I hear her story, it makes sense in that symbolic way I understand the body.

My kōtiro isn’t new to this kōrero either — she’s grown up around it and can see the patterns in her grandma and even her dad’s side of the whānau.

For me, the healing starts with awareness. Knowing your history. Understanding what your people have been through, and also the strength that came through it.

One day she’ll go to Ireland, stand on that whenua, and feel that connection for herself. And from there — karakia, connection, and healing in her own way.

06/06/2026

After all these years, I have officially been renamed.

Not Aroha.

Not Te Aroha.

Just…

“The mirimiri lady.”

😂

04/06/2026

02/06/2026

Yeah pā

The separation of Māori from their whenua did more than deprive them of economic opportunities; it separated them from the very source of who they were and where they belonged. To me the biggest contribution to Māori health from the Crown over the last forty years has come through the Waitangi Tribunal. By its many Reports it has re-established many of the connections that are essential for Māori identity, and through that, to health. Being Māori is more and more seen as a taonga, rather than a handicap that it was in years past, when many Māori parents and grandparents refused to pass on their reo and their mātauranga to their whanau because they could not see of to be of any use in the world that the coming generations were to live in. Many of the conditions that cause so much ill health are not so much caused by diet or addictions but by that sense of hopelessness that have dominated the lives of so many people who have lost a sense of their own worth and identity because of the way that they have been marginalised in the country that is their home. The scars of colonisation will take generations to heal but a turning point has been passed and there is the promise of a much brighter future.

- Pā Rōpata / Rob McGowan

Adapted from paper “Touching base with Rongoā in the 21st century”, presented at the He Puna Rongoā Hui, 2026 by Rob McGowan

Image by David Loughlin -

31/05/2026

A friend recently asked if I would do Romiromi for someone I had worked with in the past.

I said no.

Not because I don’t care, but because healing is not something that can be done to someone. It requires accountability and a willingness to look inward.

Sometimes pain presents physically, but the roots sit much deeper. Unresolved emotions, self-blame, victimhood, resentment, self-hatred, stress and trauma can all weigh heavily on the tinana. We can support the body, but if a person refuses to do the inner work, the patterns will remain.

As practitioners, we’re not here to rescue people from themselves. We can walk alongside them, offer tools, guidance and support, but we cannot do their healing for them.

I’ve learned over the years that my energy is best spent with those who are willing to meet themselves honestly and do the mahi required for lasting change.

Romiromi is powerful, but it is not magic. Real healing happens when people are prepared to take responsibility for their own journey.

29/05/2026

27/05/2026

23/05/2026

Cool.

18/05/2026

Cultural trauma and religion.

I don’t usually kōrero about this cos it’s sensitive and it can trigger but I say this with complete aroha and I’d like this post to keep that vibe please. No hate.

I’ve never felt this uncomfortable about religion til I started spending more time in Auckland a couple years back as I was more exposed to different cultures and religions. This was never an issue back home as it didn’t matter.

Over the last couple of years I’ve been gaslit by chaplains. Gaslit about what wairua is even though they are not Māori. My mahi has been likened to witchcraft or paganism. I have seen some people genuinely interested in my mahi but then I see the battle in their minds due to their strong beliefs. Like an earlier post, I had someone want my mahi but without the karakia.

I honestly don’t care what faith you are or what beliefs you hold. I can see what type of person you are by your heart, everything else doesn’t matter.

Religion can be a hard space for some of us Māori.

Not because we hate people with faith — but because history sits in the room too.

Churches, priests, chaplains… sometimes they can trigger something deeper. A reminder of the times our culture, language and ways of being were shamed or pushed aside.

I’m learning you can acknowledge that hurt without carrying bitterness forever.

You can honour your tūpuna, stand strong in your own tikanga, and still work through the discomfort at your own pace.

Healing doesn’t always look like becoming comfortable.
I’m just learning how to stay grounded without losing myself in my whakapapa trauma.

❤️