The meta-narrative
I wake early, the waves crashing outside my window. It is early morning, and the salt-sprayed double-glazing struggles to keep the sound out. It is overwhelming, thunderous yet rhythmic, like the train that no longer runs on the track, its bridge destroyed by the cyclone. I open the doors and look into the sky, littered with stars, a lone truck or seabird punctuating the inhalations of the sea. This blog is “Tiny Stories” but there has been no room to write, no incentive. All the stories have been big: Gabrielle, bringing destruction and heart-break; weddings and funerals, laced with sorrow and joy; rising prices and frugal habits. The safety net is torn, and people are retracting. Or fighting. Energy wasted on competing when collaboration is the key. Library books on grief and poetry collections litter my house: the words a comfort for me and those I tend to. Lucy Hone , New Zealand’s own resilience expert; a tiny guide to sit in the palm of your hand or gift to a friend who need