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Interview: Juliet Batten talks about The Pōhutukawa Journal

 


Juliet Batten has a PhD in English and taught English, Women’s Studies, and Environmental Studies at the University of Auckland, before working for twenty-six years as a psychotherapist.


She is the author of twelve books on the seasons, life stages, and sacred connection with nature. Juliet talks to NZ Booklovers.



Tell us more about the genre you write in and what draws you to it.

In recent years I've been using the journal format. Writing a journal brings me into the present moment, especially with nature writing. It keeps my writing fresh and alive. Readers say that being drawn into the present through my journals has a calming effect, and encourages them to slow down and contemplate what is happening in their environment and in their lives.

 

As a meditator for over forty years and long-term journal keeper, the genre suits me perfectly by providing space for reflection and meaning-making. Many years ago, I discovered May Sarton's journals of her later years and loved their intimacy and strength.


What inspired you to write your book?

I had already published two Journals: The Pomegranate Journal and the Persimmon Journal, and had the vision of writing a trilogy. So, this book simply flowed on from the previous one. There was also an event that gave me the beginning and the theme for The Pōhutukawa Journal.

 

After selling my bach on Auckland's west coast after fifty-three years of planting and caring for the trees, I kept the adjacent bush block to help me stay connected to this special place. However, the bush block had no access. I applied to the Council for consent to make a parking bay at the edge of the land for two cars. I wanted my granddaughters to be able to come out there, make walking tracks through the regenerating bush, do weed control, and get to know the land.Little did I know where this intention would lead me! Very soon I had a compelling story. I wrote the journal to capture the unfolding narrative as well as a deeper discovery of sensory awareness — what some would call indigenous awareness — in the natural world.

 

Tell us a little about your book

I discovered from the arborist that I couldn't make a parking space at the easiest point of entry. A veteran pōhutukawa was in the way, and its roots spread for ten metres in every direction. What followed was a long battle with the Council who opposed my intention at every step. The gift was that my commitment to protecting the pōhutukawa tree initiated a reciprocal relationship with the tree, with other pōhutukawa and many plants, waters, flowers, birds, and insects in the environment where I lived. It also meant that I faced more resolutely into the effects of climate change and strengthened my commitment to take generative actions for the earth and humanity.

 

What was your routine or process when writing this book?

I wrote regular entries by hand in an A5 notebook, not always daily but whenever I had something to say. Usually I wrote outside: sitting on the earth with my back against a tree, on my balcony overlooking trees, or on a beach. The pieces were written over eighteen months. Later I dictated them into my phone, emailed the entries to myself and pasted them into a Word document. Then came the big task of editing all this writing. I wrote down the themes that belonged and gave coherence to the whole story, then ruthlessly deleted anything that didn't belong, even if it was a piece of good writing — 'killing the darlings' as they say. I continued editing and crafting through many iterations, and pasted in a few pertinent memories from the past. It was hard work, but I was pleased to watch a satisfying narrative emerge, like a river with many tributaries flowing into it, and sometimes deep pools, dams, or eddies forming.

 

Once I had a draft, I experimented with workshopping the book in six readings with a group of writers and readers over several weeks. They gave me feedback after each section which was very helpful for checking the flow and readability of the book in its early stages. I was also encouraged by their enthusiasm for what they heard.

 

What did you enjoy the most about writing this book?

I loved writing in nature! Then re-reading some of the passages and being taken back to the sights, sounds, smells, and touch of those scenes. It was a joyful and enlivening process. Being in the present moment gives the best flavour to life. I enjoyed the way that various themes flowed in naturally as I wrote: spiritual resourcefulness, eldership, ancestors, memories of environmental activism, and ways to resource the young in the face of a changing climate. I also enjoyed adding a piece at the end to guide others to keep a nature journal.

 

What does it mean to become an elder activist?

It means feeling grief and urgency. These are strong motivators to prompt action in the years that remain and help make a better world for my grandchildren

 

It means I have time to consider the most effective actions I can take, to prioritise and strategise; to drawn on the learnings of a lifetime and to act sustainably. As a young activist it was easy to burn out.

 

When I was young, I began with actions that were cathartic and relieved my feelings of powerlessness but were not necessarily the most effective. I soon discovered actions that highlighted the issues and found creative strategies that influenced those in power rather than alienating them.

 

Having a strong connection with the sacredness of the environment means that I am sustained by what I am defending and am guided into the best actions.

 

What did you do to celebrate finishing this book?

I relaxed and read other books, took time with friends, and picked up many things that had been waiting in the wings, such as making slow food, and cleaning and tidying my apartment. I began working on a new recycling project.

 

What is the favourite book you have read so far this year and why?

Kennedy Warne, Soundings. When I read this book, I knew I'd found a kindred spirit, someone who shared reciprocal connection with nature, this time in the depths of the oceans — places where I couldn't go in person.  His experiences in the ocean seemed to complement my experiences with trees.

 

What’s next on the agenda for you?

Time with friends and family, a trip south, and in due course (no hurry!) picking up a couple of little projects that are waiting in the wings.


Ishtar Books

 

 

 

 

 

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