So here’s my big seven: it’s
been seven years since I last wrote a post on this blog. There
are no excuses – although I could try to not take responsibility for just
being tardy by blaming that tendency to over-busyness that may have disrupted my work-life balance. I won’t. It’s a precarious thing, the work-life
see-saw. And you wouldn’t really want to keep it permanently level, would you?
What kind of see-saw keeps steady? Only a very boring one that none of us would
want to play on.
New beginnings: The journey starts with embracing reinvention |
Some things have
changed in seven years. Blogging advice, for example. Back then, the predominant
advice was to keep posts as short as possible and to publish as often as
possible. Now, apparently, the ideal length of a blog post is 1,600 words, which will take
seven minutes to read, because readers are more likely to engage in it.
Luckily, the experts still see value in shorter posts, a minimum of 300 words.
And they advise publishing quality, not quantity. That part makes sense.
And people change;
they evolve. I have changed to become far more focused on sustainable living,
finding ways to be kind to the Earth. It’s critical, actually, that we do this.
Our home is in big trouble. And so are we.
Some things haven’t
changed, like the name of this blog. I did consider wiping the slate clean and
starting again. But for me, everything comes back to
the milkwood tree/s in my forest garden – its survival on our damaged Earth. The
milkwood (I wrote about it here) is a symbol of what I hope to get across, which focuses on recycling
and reuse and reinvention of you and me and the things in our lives.
If you’ve read this far (barely more than 300 words), then
you’ll realise that the subject matter of Under
the milkwood is shifting from post-corporate life to using our own power to
make choices in our own lives to stop harming the Earth and hopefully to even see some
recovery. But we don't exist in boxes. So I'll share places and people and my ongoing battle to keep that see-saw gently rising and falling.
Join me for the journey.
Join me for the journey.
Quality - and I target 500 words. If it's too long ... people skim.
ReplyDeleteI remember a show garden for a cancer charity - they had planted 7 trees - hope for each day of the week. My garden isn't big enough, but the idea stays with me.