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Hira Nathan, the humble author guided by his ancestors’ everyday lives


His best-selling journals use mātauranga as a way to establish daily habits towards a balanced and intentional life. 

02 June 2026
Hira Nathan. (Photo: Francesca Brugnoli).

Hira Nathan (Ngāti Kahungunu, Ngāti Tuwharetoa, Ngāpuhi) is a best-selling author from Hawke’s Bay, Aotearoa. He wrote Piki te Ora: Your Wellbeing Journal (2024), WHAKAWHETAI: Gratitude: A Daily Bilingual Journal (2023), and Māori Ora: Your guide to using traditional Māori knowledge to live a more intentional life (2025). In addition to being an immensely impactful storyteller, Hira is the most humble fella I have ever met. A real one. Someone who is doing mana-enhancing mahi with people and place. 

On a crisp afternoon in mid-April, I popped down the road for a hot cuppa at Hira’s whare. Through his kitchen window, we watched black-and-white birds play in his green backyard, while we had a wholesome kōrero about his personal haerenga (journey) to establishing a culturally-grounded wellbeing practice. True to form, he managed to sum up his approach to maintaining all aspects of his hauora (health) in the most refreshingly simple, uplifting way. 

During our talanoa, Hira repeatedly returned to the meaningful habits and perspectives that guided his ancestors’ everyday lives. He consistently vocalised his gratitude for the rich experiences and grounding routines that have shaped his foundations. Smiling into his half-full cup of gumboot tea, Hira explained how chuffed he is that his stories are helping thousands of tangata to build solid places to stand, start and grow from. 

 

Kia ora Hira! You have written three journals that support people to learn about everyday wellness practices through a Māori lens. How do you see your mahi in relation to healing and spirituality? 

People call it spirituality. But to me, it's not spiritual at all. It's just getting outside and connecting with the whenua, connecting with the moana – it makes you feel good. It's not some concept. It's a fact. You go out, you go to the beach, you walk in the bush, you get some fresh air, and your body feels good. Maybe why it feels better is a bit spiritual, but you don't need to be religious or spiritual or believe in anything to know that going to the beach and getting in the water makes you feel good. 

Hira Nathan's three pukapuka

Why do you think you were drawn to those ways of thinking and being? 

When we went diving with my old man, we used to sing ocean songs on the way. That was our process, our tikanga. Then when we stopped, there was kind of a way to bring us into that space. We would get there and my dad would give me his watch and say to me, “If we're not out of the water by the time this little hand hits the two and the big hand hits the 12, go and get the farmer.” So, I had a job. We'd never eat seafood on the beach. Because that was about respecting Tangaroa. We dropped off seafood to all the old people on the way home. So, that was about sharing things. Even though we weren't calling it mindfulness, it was that. It is mindfulness. We were bringing ourselves into spaces, taking time to be intentional about what we were doing. We were taking time to share, to connect with other people, to connect with the ocean, to connect with the whenua, to connect. You know, all of those things are mindful of nature. It wasn't something new. I think about karakia and acknowledging that we're going diving and sharing. Gratitude practice, like when you come here, it's acknowledging whoever it is that you're praying to, but also giving thanks for what it is you're about to do. You know, it's gratitude for nature. Being present. You acknowledge the people that are present, you acknowledge the people that have gone before you, and you acknowledge God. You acknowledge Mother Earth and Sky Father. 

 

What are the benefits of sharing these stories and practices with people through your journals? 

Stories that are told through generations, like Ranginui and Papatūānuku, the separation story, and how Māui slowed down the sun, and how fire was created, and all these things. Our people weren’t stupid, they didn't make these stories up for nothing. They're teaching people things. They're not just stories for the sake of stories. 

If you think about the separation of Rangi and Papa, what is it really telling us? It tells us that we are connected to the sky, to the earth, that we came from the earth, that we have an obligation to care for it, we're not separate from it. We are part of it. We're part of this big, wide universe, cosmos, whatever you want to call it. We're not separate from it. That's the story, that it is all interconnected. We've got to respect the sky and we've got to respect the world around us because it's part of us. And if we don't look after it, we're going to kill ourselves. 

We end up so disconnected from everything because we're on our phones and we're rushing to work. I spend an hour and a half a day in traffic. We're in such a hurry that we forget these basic things that they were doing hundreds of years ago. Then we go, “Why are we stressed? Why am I unhappy?” 

The solution to a lot of our problems is just going outside more. We are really lucky in this country that we can drive for ten minutes and be somewhere really beautiful, and sit there and just be quiet, and just breathe and connect. Those things that we used to do back in the day to connect with the whenua, we stopped doing. But all of our protocols, things that we do, they weren't just made up for nothing. They all had a purpose, and they were grounded in practical application. 

Hira Nathan. (Photo: Francesca Brugnoli).

How does your newest journal Māori Ora: Your guide to using traditional Māori knowledge to live a more intentional life (2025) build on the core concepts of your previous book WHAKAWHETAI: Gratitude: A Daily Bilingual Journal (2023)? 

There's lots more stories in this one about me growing up. In the opening, there’s a story about ten years ago when I was on a hunting trip. We met this old fella when we were pig hunting, and he went “Oh, can I come with you?” We didn't know who he was, but we were like, 

“Cool. Jump in.” Then we went to go, and he said, “Hang on, boys, we'll do a bit of a karakia first.” You know, he just pulled us back and he told us to slow down. He was like, “You're charging on, but there is no point in rushing. Let the dogs do the work. We're just cruising. The dogs will find them for us, and then we'll go and get them.” He made us slow down and be more intentional about what we were doing. Then pretty quickly we got onto a pig, walked back to the utes, and sat down. He said, “Take only what you need, share what you have. Don't miss out on all the good stuff chasing things you're not going to eat.” 

Everything he did had intention, and it came from a place of respect. When he made us karakia, when he made us walk slowly, when he gutted the pigs in the creek, when he called the eel, the way he was connected to the taiao (natural world). His choices were deliberate, rooted in tikanga, and an understanding of the need for balance and reciprocity. He was clear on his purpose and knew what truly mattered. Respecting the taiao and living in harmony with the world around him. 

This is what this pukapuka is about – using mātauranga Māori concepts like kaitiakitanga (guardianship), manaakitanga (the process of showing respect, generosity, and care for others), and rangatiratanga (leadership) to establish simple daily habits, and have a more balanced and intentional life. 

 

How do your journals support people to turn cultural wellbeing concepts into simple daily practices? 

It gives you one habit to work on every week. The kawa (protocol) is like the overarching intention, and the tikanga is how you do that. The purpose of it is the kawa, and the tikanga is the application of it. So, the kawa might be manaakitanga or showing love and support and respect to people, and then the tikanga might be that you give visitors a cup of tea or you feed them when they come to your house. You know, that’s the rule. 

The one for this week is about having clean and tidy, clutter-free spaces inside and out, which shows care for the taiao and each other, and is an important part of everyday life. It also shows manaakitanga by respecting our manuhiri (visitors) and the people around us. This week we're going to establish one daily chore that you will complete at the same time every day. It could be emptying the dishwasher before you leave for mahi, vacuuming as soon as you get home from school, or walking your dog at the same time every day. 

Another week is all about whānau and strengthening our relationships with the people around us. Every day you're going to reach out to a family member or friend that could be the same friend or different ones and you can say as much or as little as you like. It could be a full on conversation or something as simple as saying “Kia ora, hope you're good.” to an old friend. Friendships are unique and special, and sometimes they have their own language. So, you connect on whatever level you share with them. 

Hira Nathan. (Photo: Francesca Brugnoli).

What do you want people to know about your personal perspective on wellness? 

I don't tell people that they need healing or that they should look back to anything or whatever. I'm just like, there's stuff that you can do every day really simply that can help you connect with yourself. Just by taking a moment to breathe, connecting with the people around you, stopping and reflecting differently on what we do, you can be more connected to the people around you. You can be more connected to yourself. You can be by going outside, you can be connected to the whenua, to the sky. You know, you can do all of those things. It's like yourself, the world, people, your culture, your body, your mind, your spirit, the taiao, the environment, the people and your friends. That’s it. You connect with those things and you keep them all balanced, then you are happy. 

 

What are some common misconceptions about your approach that you have heard from people who have used your journals on their personal wellbeing journeys? 

People do the journal and then they fall off and they're like, “What do I do?” So we'll just start again. Over and over again. Forever. It's like for your whole life. You don't get to a point and you go, “I'm fixed now. I'm done now. I'm finished.” It’s the same with exercise. You don't get fit, and then stop and then go, “Okay, I'm finished now.” It's the same with your mental health, with your spiritual health, your mind, mindfulness. It is an everyday thing, and sometimes it's a bit of a chore, but ultimately, if you put in the reps, you're going to get the results, you know? It’s ongoing. 

 

What is next for your journals? Where do you want to take them, and who do you want to reach? 

The next iteration of what I want to do is just get more reach – try and get some funding to do some workshops, and centre it around that for rangatahi to get out to communities that need it. I grew up in a poor community. We didn't have a lot, and I feel like if someone told us, “Hey, it's okay. It's okay to be you. It's okay to feel how you feel. It's okay to be angry. It's okay to be hurt. It doesn't mean that you're broken. You don't need to be fixed.” I don't know anyone whose life has been perfect. I just think if there were things people taught us about how to deal with emotions, how to regulate emotions, how to breathe properly, how to de-stress, maybe some of my friends wouldn't be in jail. Maybe some of my friends wouldn't have joined gangs, maybe some of them wouldn't have died. I feel like the epidemic of men’s mental health isn't about not talking – it's about not connecting with yourself and not connecting with the whenua. That grounding, the whole connection to themselves, the people around them, the whenua, their hinengaro (mind), their wairua (spirit), the environment, the ocean, all of those things. If you connect with all of that, you’ll be in a much better place.