New. Yeah!

Hello New year.  Yeah, you.

Can you be a kind one? A full-of-love one?
A generous-of-down-time one?
A less-of-doctors one. A more-of-reading one. A happy-new-schools-move one. A much-more-camping one. A fixing-the-house one, a finding my writing muse one. A painting-pictures one.

That kind of one?

Ta. I’m ready for you, 2018.

I woke up this morning and attended to my paperwork pile, firing off emails and getting shiz done before anyone else in the house had stirred. Feels good to start with a productive burst.  We did our usual New Year’s platter extravaganza last night.  All the yummies.  Tawny port. Reflection on the year we’ve had and our goals for the one ahead. Then at 12, we stood on our deck and watched the fireworks bloom across the dark sky.  The Sky Tower lit up like a giant sparkler.  A cool breeze and the warm arms of my man around me filled me with calm optimism. Twenty Eighteen is going to be a good one. It will be so different for us.  I think it is time for change.

source: RadioNZ

My hubster is in the kitchen making us a morning cuppa and the New Year has dawned quietly overcast. I see the Jacaranda tree we planted a few years ago is having it’s best season yet; a harbinger of good things to come for all of us. Masses of heavy bunches of purple drip from it’s slender branches raining petals on the lawn and path.  It’s a beautiful sight. One day, it will stretch across to the house and fill the corner of our place with dappled shade. I wonder how many New Years will roll by before that happens?  What will they hold?

I don’t know about you, but I am ready for last year and all it’s challenges to be history.  It’s time for New. Yeah.

My ten year old just came into our room, all wuffly headed and sleepy.  “Welcome to 2018!” I said.
“Oh yeaaah!” he said. And he mused to himself
‘What’s my New Year’s Revolution going to be?’  I smiled.  That is surprisingly apt.

Happy New Year everyone! May this one bring peace and calm and happiness and fulfilment for all of you, in whatever shapes those things take for you. It’s a wobbly time in global politics, so I really hope it’s a optimistic new year for everyone, in spite of it all.  May all the ‘revolutions’ be internal and useful.

Cheers.

 

Useless

Hello, my name is Rachel and I am a useless blogger.

nametag

When I was little, the single most frustrating retort from my mother was when she would close my most recent, incessant argument with:

“JUST. BECAUSE.”

I needed a reason why I couldn’t chew gum/ wear a t-shirt with ‘easy’ emblazoned across the chest/ yell at my maths teacher (all true stories).  I needed reasons so I could keep arguing. So she would tighten the set of her jaw and shut up shop. Just. Because.  It’s taken being a mother myself to understand the value of the statement. It’s a full stop, a justification in and of itself. It’s enough, already. It’s when something needs simply to be accepted.

Back to this blogging malarky. It used to be that I would write a couple of posts a week, sometimes more. Each around 800 words apiece. I’ve amassed a large archive of words. But more often than not these days, I’m so busy in my offline world that my online world makes much less noise than it used to.

When I started blogging, I studiously ticked the boxes on the ‘backend’ of my blog. I fretted over my ‘niche’ and tried to quantify my ‘audience’. I ran giveaways, launched ‘series’, built awareness for my illness community and cared more about ‘SEO optimisation’ in my writing. But these days, I care most about writing. Just writing. If you are reading this I am so genuinely grateful, because I haven’t done much to bring you here or keep you here. I’m just being me, writing my story, in post-sized-bites.  I guess, technically, that makes me a useless blogger, a tag I am really proud to wear.  Because blogging is about much more than all that useful stuff. Blogging is about self-expression, about reflection and learning. For me, it’s a record of my thinking, an archive of my journey.

Veggiemama (Stacey) from Melbourne started it all. You can read here about how the useless-blogger-groundswell began, that my mate from I Give You the Verbs (Annette) turned into a movement, complete with it’s own hashtag (#uselessblogger), that ate the cat that swallowed the fly. I don’t know why we swallowed the fly, perhaps we’ll die!

It’s a grand thing to know that my blog can continue, ‘useless’ as it may be. It’s a bit extravagant maybe, blogging anyway, blogging about all of my life, not just one part of it. Writing even when what I have to say comes out and I think ‘yawn, who is going to want to read this anyway?’. But I have great faith that my readers, like you, have free will, and will only read on if you want to. If you don’t that’s fine with me too. There are blogs that I have lost interest in over the years. If you are here it’s because you want to be. I like hanging out with you! Thanks for staying.

This whole ‘useless blogging’ thing resonated with me. The blogs I love most are the ‘useless’ ones. The ones people write for the love of blogging, not the pursuit of followers.  The ones that bare it all, that lay their hearts out on the screen, full of authentic power. The vulnerability, the mundane, the beautiful normality of life. And sometimes, too, the pain.  I love these blogs because their authors care most about being real. It’s much more interesting to me than a pretty splash page, a new header image, or fancy widgets. Those things all have their own merits, but it’s content that floats my bloggy boat.

Do you blog?  Are you a ‘useless blogger’ too?
Join the revolution!  Be a daredevil and blog,

just. because.