Only Connect: the Prose and the Passion

Ten years ago, I started this blog. 

For two weeks or so, I've had a song stuck in my head and I don't know what it is. I remembered that I had linked a video to it on this blog for a Valentine's day post, and after failed attempts to find the song by googling 'I love you song' - which predictably yielded poor results - I figured I'd see if it was still on here. For me, at least, the video is no longer available (can anyone else see it?). I still don't know what it is.**

I was amazed, though, to see how long ago I wrote that post - it was my 6th ever post, in February 2010. And, in the process of trying to find the post, I saw so many things that I forgot I'd written, and so many things that reminded me of my former hopes and experiences, and past lives. 

I have written funny stories about pets, falling down hills and falling in canals.

I've written my goals and ambitions, and reflections on achieving them.

I've written loads of haikus, small stones, and small daily observations.

I've written about health, healing, and generally trying to stay positive.

I've written about big life changes, the happy and the sad ones.

And, of course, fashion, cycling, and travel!

Many of the things I wrote about over these 10 years (or 6 if we count the really active ones) are things I still think about, a lot. The post Abyss in August from 2016, about philosophy's ability to make me feel like nothing matters, could have been written two weeks ago. Or my post about 'Unproductive January' - that could have been written word-for-word in April and May, when CoVid-19 stole all motivation from me. It turns out that writing-focussed angst is a common (constant?) feature of my life. As is my battle with internet-related distractions. It was quite amusing to read my October 2010 post about keeping calm when reading the news - I'm so glad my past self did not know what 2019-2020 had in store! Good lord! Who could have kept going if we knew what lay head?

This month in particular was an interesting time to stumble back to my blog. In addition to being ten years since starting the blog, this week marks my one-year anniversary of moving to Sydney, Australia, for a new job at Sydney Health Ethics. Drew and Lady Marmalade arrived at the beginning of August last year (dear Sir Barnabas Meow-Meow died from heart failure in 2017). As an aside, it's amazing to me that I didn't write about our kitties more. They're such a big, comforting, joyful part of our lives! Perhaps it's because I post pictures of them on the socials instead, or because they don't seem interesting to other people.

I was curious to re-read my thoughts on Australia from our first visit here in 2016, and find them to be very accurate - including my comments about the cycling infrastructure in Sydney, and how expensive food is. Fortunately, Australia has stepped into the 21st century making same-sex marriage legal in 2017, and abortion is now legal in every state (as of October 2019, when New South Wales was struck by common sense). AUS is still a right-leaning and very white country. But, unlike then, I live here now, and I have seen many kangaroos (still no koalas). 

Rediscovering my blog has made me reflect on some things. I really liked reading the old posts. I started keeping a journal again in January 2019, in which I jot down a few reflections about my day, every day. I think I might try to get up the energy and creativity to write the odd blog post, as well. I have lately been reflecting on creativity, and my sense that I am losing/have lost it. I began drawing again in an effort to notice again, and maybe I'll try writing small stones again for the same reason. I used to be constantly on the look out for interesting or beautiful things. Small stones are a good way of being creative and writing, of using words in new and fun ways. 

I think because my life in Toronto felt very comfortable and in some ways routine, I had space in my head to look for and appreciate small differences. Since leaving Toronto, life has been less comfortable and in some ways less routine. Discomfort means change, and change is good but hard. Change takes up a lot of energy, even when it's good. So maybe at last I'm settling in again, with Drew and Lady Marmalade in a new place, and finding the time to look around again with curious, attentive, and creative eyes.

**Update: the song is The Colour of the Fire, by Boards of Canada!