Real Mana Isn’t Loud – It’s Quiet

I reckon one of the biggest misunderstandings about mana is that it’s about power, prestige, or having status over others.

But the more life I live, and the more I work with people, the more I’ve come to see that real mana is found in how you treat others - not how many people follow you, quote you, or agree with you.

Real mana isn’t loud. It’s quiet. It doesn’t need the spotlight. Real mana lifts others up. It’s in the way you carry yourself.

You know those moments when you’re feeling a bit nervous, and then that person walks in the room and you breathe a small sigh of relief? Because now you know everything is going to be alright? Yeah, that’s it - and it’s not loud, but you feel it when you’re around it.

It’s also in the way you make time for someone who’s doing it tough or in the way you back your team when things go sideways. Mana is expressed most powerfully through service - and that’s where manaakitanga comes in.

A lot of people still don’t get this. They think service is something you do when you haven’t “made it” yet. Like you serve people when you’re at the bottom until one day you “make it” and then you get people who serve you.

But in te ao Māori, the opposite is true.

The more mana you carry, the more responsibility you have to look after others. That’s why the best leaders are the ones checking in on people, showing up to tautoko all the various kaupapa, and quietly doing the mahi no one else sees.

I’ve worked in hospo most of my life. I’ve had people look down on me because one of the things I do is serve kai for a living. But I’ve never felt the need to explain myself. I was raised to know the mana that comes with serving others - especially kai.

And not just the kind of service where you do the bare minimum. I’m talking about real manaakitanga - the kind where you go the extra mile because that’s just the cloth you were cut from.

The kind where you spot someone standing alone at a hui, and you pull them into your circle so they’re not left on the fringes. The kind where you show up to tautoko your mate - not because you were asked to, but because that’s what manaakitanga looks like when no one’s watching.

The kind where you flick the jug on and open a packet of biscuits when you see them pull in the drive, just so you can offer someone a cuppa the moment they knock on your front door. Where you feed people until they’re full, then send them home with leftovers wrapped in tin foil or stashed in that snap lock container you know you’ll never see again.

Those little acts? That’s mana in motion.

And the people who carry that kind of mana - the quiet, grounded, humble kind - they’re the ones I look up to the most.

So if you’re leading a team, building a business, raising tamariki, or just trying to do life well - remember this:

Mana isn’t something you flex. It’s something you share through manaakitanga.

Ngā mihi,
Anton