Worth building on

I thought having a clean slate would re-ignite my blogging and give me the chance to do things better (this time), but all it brought was pressure—and the feeling that something big was missing.

And it was: nearly 50 posts of context, history, things God had shown me, work, thought, research, prayer, (mostly) not-bad writing, and reflections that many people had appreciated.

That’s something worth celebrating, not hiding.

It’s also something worth building on.

That’s me back in 2014. Since then I’ve written (easily) another 100 posts—and reset my blog many times, most recently when I decided to focus on poetry.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but I’ve made the same mistake over and over. And each time I’ve felt the same way.

The good news is, I still have most of those posts, and with a few days of (what should have been unnecessary) work, I’ve managed to reinstate them.

Sorting through them, I’ve been encouraged by what I’ve written: both the substance and the quantity. I’ve also been encouraged by the many comments that are still intact. It makes me want to keep blogging, and to earn an audience again, even if only a small one.

I can’t guarantee that I won’t be lured by the reset button again, but I think I’ve been through this enough times now to have learnt my lesson. I really admire those bloggers who have been around for years and stuck with the same domain and built a body of work. I want to be one.

As for poetry, I’ll keep at it. Over the last two-and-a-half months I’ve really begun to see its value—especially in the current cultural and political climate. But I also like sharing quotes, photos, and videos, and writing reflective prose, so I’ll do that too.

The point is to capture the journey and to, hopefully, build something that will be of value to others too.

And now I have something worth building on—again.

A few things to note:

  • I’ve reinstated just about all the posts I had in my archive, including my TinyLetter ones and a few others I’d had locked away for quite a while. I’ve also moved across the posts from my 2009 blog Kiwi Barefooter, which—apart from one other false start—is really where my blogging began. The only posts I haven’t reinstated are the ones with song lyrics in them (too risky copyright-wise) and most of the boring, now-irrelevant ones about all the blog changes I made.
  • I’ve removed most of the notes about when/where things were originally published and just reinstated the posts against their original dates.
  • To some degree, my friend Mike is responsible for this, because he reinstated a lot of his old posts and made me realise how cool it is to have them all in one place. 🙂
  • I still have a lot of tidying up to do.

Haiku #6

sun rises over
the still racecourse:
strange peace

* * *

Notes:

Some mornings, I catch the train from Avondale Train Station, which overlooks Avondale Racecourse. The racecourse, which doubles as a rugby field, is quite run down, but early in the morning, when the sun rises over it (or, at least, when it did, a couple of months ago), it’s strangely peaceful and magnetic. I often turn to look at it, and, when I do, I feel an almost immediate biological reaction, where my body relaxes. I notice other people turn to look at it too; I’m obviously not the only one taken by it.

Where the Sidewalk Ends

My wife got Shel Silverstein’s Where the Sidewalk Ends 30th Anniversary Edition out of the library for the kids this week, and we’ve been reading poems to each other. It’s a wonderful book. Not only are the poems fun to read, they’re also very good, and often quite profound.

Here are a few of my favourites:

It’s Dark in Here
Hector the Collector
My Rules
Forgotten Language