Far out in the ocean lies Te Parata, a being of the deep. The tides are its breathing. When Te Parata breathes in, the water draws back from the shore. When it breathes out, the sea floods in again. Little more is told of its nature.
Te Parata enters one of the best-known voyaging stories. On the journey of Te Arawa from Hawaiki, the tohunga (expert / priest) Ngātoro-i-rangi was wronged by Tama-te-kapua. In his anger he called up a storm, and the waka (canoe) was driven toward Te Korokoro-o-Te-Parata, the throat of Te Parata.
The canoe began to go down. Water poured in, people cried out, and supplies were lost overboard. Only when Ngātoro-i-rangi, hearing the cries, set his anger aside and said karakia to calm the sea did the waka pull free and continue to Aotearoa.
That is the only drama in Te Parata's story, and Te Parata is not the villain of it. The danger came from a human quarrel. Te Parata simply did what it always does. It breathes, and it does not pause for anyone.
That is how sailors and fishers have long understood the ocean's strongest currents. You do not argue with them. You learn their timing, and you set out with the tide rather than against it.
Hei whakaaro (reflect / thought): some forces cannot be beaten, only understood. The real danger is often the quarrel you bring with you onto the water.
Hei whakaaro · something to sit with
Ehara a Te Parata i te hoariri; nā te riri tangata te mōrearea.
Some forces cannot be beaten, only understood, and the real danger is often the quarrel we bring.
Which current are you fighting that you could learn to time instead?