....because, of course, you have a secret neighborhood lava cave in New Zealand
Last Friday, I received a perplexing text message that began with "hey, Ellie, we are opening the cave…"
First of all - I didn’t know who was texting me. She mentioned a kid’s name, and I assumed it was one of the boys' friends. But my brain fritzed slightly, taking me hours to connect the dots. Once I figured it out, I attempted to disentangle the remaining details - where was the cave located? In town or near the outskirts, perhaps?
After a few texts back and forth, I realized that this cave was actually, truly… just in this family’s backyard! Their neighbors held the key to the entry, and she also had access, opening it from time to time to allow friends and family in. She generously offered the chance to explore to all of Asher’s classmates this past Saturday.
Of course, I was intrigued. So, we bought a few headlamps and cleared our calendars to go. We were all most astounded and delighted when she shared her address, discovering that the cave was just across the street from us. WILD.
(A bit of context for Auckland - there are approximately 50 volcanic “mountains” across the city, 14 of which are maunga - protected, honored sites. These are spread across Auckland. Our neighborhood is near the base of Te Tatua a Riukiuta/Big King, and we were told that there were lava tubes beneath our house. Even still - we never thought to link this reality to the potential for expansive, magical underworlds and caves beneath our feet.)
On Saturday, we grabbed a few headlights, threw on our bike helmets, and walked five minutes over to their home. (!!) When we arrived, a ton of kids were running round, and families shuffling in and out. The other mum offered to have Andrea stay to play with some of the other kids, as the cave involved scrambling and shuffling, and she was not eager to go in.
Then, we set off - out the backyard and around an inauspicious corner of their garage to the huge opening. As we descended into the cave, we were in awe - astonished by how big the cave was, the winding paths, and the wall to scramble up. Unlike the limestone caves of Kentucky, there weren’t stalactites or stalagmites, but tons of really interesting volcanic rock formations - hardened into wild, twisted, and spiky shapes at our feet. The volcanic rocks shimmered as we glinted our lights over them, and a latticework of roots dangled from above. There weren’t many creatures or signs of life, beyond the occasional cockroach that the boys enjoyed pointing out, eliciting my shrieks and disdain. We wound our way to the back cavern, and then as we reapproached the entry, there was a narrowing that we crawled through to enter a second, back cavern. All in all, the cave was pretty massive, and we spent a solid half hour exploring down below.
As Kentucky and Tennessee kids, Charlie and I have explored many limestone caves in our youth. We'd already taken the boys to Mammoth Cave and Luray Caverns. But even still, there was something particular about our weekend’s adventure - my journey/mystery to decode the text and discover the wonders below, marveling and wondering what else is unseen around us across the city.
The cavernous adventure revealed not only the marvels beneath our feet but also illuminated unexpected reflections upon our return to the surface. After our cave exploration, the neighbors that invited us over offered us some drinks, and we sat for a brief minute with other parents as Asher played with his classmate, Shaun. Prior to traveling over to the cave, I’d asked Asher about Shaun - if he hung out with him in class, what he was like, etc. Asher kindly but gently brushed it aside. “We don’t hang out or play much, he’s often playing with another group of kids.” (Asher has already found a nice group of wonder-filled little kids that he often runs 'round with and plays with at recess.) But then, when we were at Shaun’s house, Asher loved every moment - making connections with shared interests and ways of playing, loving seeing him in his space and connecting over their shared love of Star Wars, video games, etc - just as kids do.
When we got home, just a few hours later, Asher said something to me amid the hustle and bustle of dinner prep. “Hey Mom!” he said, with a voice implying discovery, lending me to picture a cartoonish, floating lightbulb illuminating as he spoke. “I just realized something, like - there are friends, like Shaun and Richard, who I haven’t necessarily hung out with at school but who live closeby and are really cool, too!” We went on to have this simple but deeply insightful conversation, in which Asher was realizing the value that while he had a group of vibrant friends that he’d defined and bounded as “these are the people he clicked with” - that in getting to know others in his classmates, in a different context or 1:1 scenario - that it opened new possibilities and doors for friendship. It was a revelation that unfolded with simplicity but carried import and depth. It was one of those instances where, as a parent, I could have tried to convey in a quick didactic lesson or take them to some film or TV show that puts a bow at the end on this warm+fuzzy lesson, but in reality is much more deeply understood+learned by the subtle observations -- in this instance, was unearthed in Asher's own way by our impromptu and bizarrely wonderful cave invitation.
My other reflection was a personal one. I’ve been aiming to listen to a poem a day (+ the listen includes helpful insights shared by Padraig O Tuama, who always provides a breakdown and interpretation of the poem in these short podcast episodes). A few weeks ago, I came across this poem.
I loved listening to it - and hearing O Tuama’s interpretation, the notion of the cave as a metaphor not only for us to explore philosophical or existential notions or ideas -- but to think about ideas that have been explored before, yet perhaps remained entombed or set aside. I love the questions and invitations O Tuama thinks the poem offers:
"And then, I think, this poem is also inviting us to think, what is the idea that I’m being called into in language, to bring my own light and to discover who has gone before me? Who are the ancestors of this brave new exploration that’s new for me? And who might I be able to turn to, to see the artifacts that they left behind, as they asked questions that I’m now asking myself, feeling alone but discovering ways within which people before me have already taken this quest and might have some wisdom to share with me and that I have some wisdom to take?"
There was something deep and resonant for me in this unforeseen invitation to explore this particular cave. I’m hoping to write more about it, but so much of our rhythms and life here is slower - and gives me time, quiet, space - the space to finally go down into the depths, to find sanctuary to confront buried emotions, to find space to look inward and unearth the grief and sacrifices that had been eclipsed by the chaotic years of caregiving. Much of the burying was due to the pace, what was asked of Charlie and me, what was needed to survive those chaotic and wrenching years. But here we are in a contemplative phase, where there is time to let thoughts unspool, to give weekends over to a simple outing with hours on a beach or a hike in which I can get lost in my own thoughts, ask the "why" that's through the caverns of five other "why"s that I just lacked the time and emotional capacity to enter before. Perhaps more to come in writing on this, but in the meantime, I am grateful for the metaphorical and metaphysical coming together through our seemingly frivolous and impromptu, but intriguing timing-wise, neighborhood cave outing.
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