I just re-read my last blog post ‘The Year of Living Consciously’ that I wrote on January 11th. Despite my best intentions, another blog post has not eventuated this year. I had a few stabs at writing one or two. I started something on Janelle Monae, feeling rather inspired by her music and her style, but I never got around to finishing it. That perfectionist streak in me, which I’m only just starting to become aware of, was never quite satisfied with the pictures of her I amassed for the post.
I then started dabbling with a post that I had been writing about a year and a half ago that still seemed relevant. I guess that’s the one of the good things of having recurring problems, your old blog posts remain salient in years to come. I’m sure in five years time I’m still going to be looking for the perfect diary to help me organise my life and stop wasting so much of it watching teenage-oriented television. But I just never got around to finishing the post.
I then decided that Summer Solstice would be the perfect time to write an update on my blog, but instead spent that long evening gossiping with a very dear friend, and the symbolic timing of the blog post was lost, along with the impetus to write.
The lack of posting has not been for lack of material. There were often times when I felt like I had a lot to say, but I think I have been somewhat reluctant to putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, about what’s happened for me since January 11th. Sometimes that has been because it felt very personal, other times because I didn’t really know where to start unpacking the things I’ve learnt, and I didn’t want it all to disappear through the interrogation of blogging about it.
But this afternoon, as I sat in a cafe doing some work, I felt like I just wanted to try to write again and just see where it takes me. I wanted to start writing again just a way to document for myself some things that are going on for me, so that I have somewhere to store those breakthroughs or aha moments or even the lack thereof.
I remember feeling that I didn’t even really know what I meant by the year of living consciously at the time, but that idea of ‘living consciously’ just came to me and felt like it was something I really wanted to move towards. I basically forgot all about the post until I was talking to my mum recently and she mentioned it to me, thinking that it was a new post, as conscious living has been the central theme of my year – being more conscious of what I eat, my impact on the environment, my impact on others and becoming more conscious of what I feel and where those feelings are coming from. Re-reading that post made me feel like I really had some sort of divine inspiration or inner knowledge about what direction I was wanting to move my life in, but it was at the unconscious level then.