Thursday 2 January 2020

So what is the approach in 2020?

2020 did not start as I intended. I had visions of keenly starting the New Year out on the coast seeing tons of glorious birds. This fitted neatly with my resolution of sorts, which was to spend more time birding in this country - terribly neglected of late. Then I discovered that the family car was required for less frivolous purposes and had to scale back my plans. So, Rainham then, I would get dropped off or take the train and spend the whole day birding there, hurrah! It is a semi patch of mine that I used to devote a lot of time to, I would very much like to get back to it, this could be the perfect backup start to 2020! Great, I'll get the stuff ready. What's that? My middle daughter has arranged to go to see a friend which would leave the youngest one home alone...

So I guess I'll stay local then. Pah! It was nice to spend time on Wanstead Flats and in the Park seeking out birds - for a brief moment everything is interesting again - but it felt slightly laboured. Of course it was also pleasant spending time with Rob and Nick and others, the shared joy of finally finding a Greenfinch, the amusement of repeatedly missing flyover Collared Doves and so on, but I question whether it is sustainable. In the sense of will this keep me going all year. 

The answer is a big fat no.

Once upon a time, but no longer. The same goes for blogging. You may know that I very nearly jacked it in on the 10th anniversary. I had a post typed up and ready to go about a month before I intended to publish it. It is still there in draft status, tempting me. For whatever reason I had second thoughts and carried on, and 100 posts later here I am. It has been hard. Very hard. And oddly so, I cannot put my finger on it. I am still the same person I was 11 years ago. I am older of course, slightly more jaded, heavier.... but fundamentally I am still me and if - to steal an acronym from modern lexicon - if you knew me IRL I would hope you think that I have not changed a great deal. I am still very juvenile and delight in small acts of stupidity. I have learned to keep a lid on it in certain situations, namely work, but personality is and should be irrepressible. I also think I lead quite an interesting life, and I am quite happy with my lot. Mrs L of course would say that I could contend for the Dull Men of Great Britain title, but I disagree. Yes of course a lot of is spent behind a desk etc, but that is the case for many people even if it sometimes does not feel like it. In the brief snippets where that is not the case I think I do pretty well. I have lots of hobbies and interests, too many in fact. I read lots of books, I travel to fabulous places, I potter around at home being domestic and I enjoy that too. You would think therefore that I have a wealth of material to write about.

And yet.

It gets harder and I cannot put my finger on why. And it used to be easy, effortlessly easy. Now I am not looking here for all blog readers to jump in with a comment saying don't give up etc. I like a bit of interaction, all bloggers do, but this is a deeper question that maybe only I can answer. I am busier than I have ever been, or at least it feels that way to me - possibly nothing has changed other than I used to be 33 and now I'm 44 - I have a huge amount that I could talk about across many different facets and subjects. Why can't I? Am I worried about what people think suddenly? Worried about being dull and boring? Maybe I am. I thought I wrote for me, because I had to, because I needed to - this belief drove me for a very long time. Now I am not so sure. I find that I can easily not write something for several weeks and it doesn't bother me at all.

And this is not just about writing. It is everything. I can ignore the patch for several weeks and not feel like I am missing it. I can (and in the past have) let the greenhouse rot. Similarly I can go for a month without reading a book even though I really like reading. All the things I like I can discard with little care, at least for a while. And yet I am perfectly happy and content. I am not having a mid life crisis, or at least not that I am aware of. This makes no sense.

I am sure I wrote about this before either last year or the year before but I cannot now find it, it was called "The Spark" or something like that. Whenever that was I think my slant was writing, but actually I now realise it is applicable to much more than that. If it was a spark I have not yet managed to refind it. And that is what 2020 will be about.

16 comments:

  1. Jono, I totally get it. I am not in your shoes, but your words strike a familiar chord. I don't know if it helps you, but what's helped me has been the conscious, deliberate freeing myself of constraints, be that a patch, a list, a target or boundary of any kind. All gone. It has been, so far at least (and we all know what I'm like!) immensely liberating. Spark refound.

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    1. PS. Obviously I'm talking about birding here. Maybe the principle could be applied in other areas though...?

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    2. It probably could. Thanks. Might start with writing as that seems to be the current irritation. I have rediscovered a love of birding the coast though. Really should write about it, but....

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  2. Jono, I’ve been having trouble leaving comments on other blogs so commented on this post by writing a post on my own blog. Like Gav, I totally get it...

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    1. Cheers Steve. Lots to think about, or maybe not think about anything and just go with the mood.

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  3. Jono, how much can you write about when the only reason you do anything at all is to alleviate your terminal boredom?

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  4. Don't think about it too deeply, it's all perfectly normal! Enthusiasm is a fleeting ephemeral thing which, like the moon, waxes and wanes. Just go with your moods and ---------- don't stop!

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    1. Yes. To hell with expectation. Though I did have an excellent weekend birding in East Anglia.

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  5. Hi Jono,
    I'm not sure if it's an age thing...it seems you're my age from reading this post...but lots of what you have written resonates strongly with me. In my own case, even when I was younger I tended to blow hot and cold (mostly cold) with regard to blogging, and I think that's because I've seldom felt that I've had anything truly important to say. Anything I could write about my humble birding existence, I could tell those friends who might care privately anyway. But I digress.
    Losing an actual birding spark is more serious, and I wish you good luck in finding that again. My sole advice would be to be gentle with yourself about it, don't force things as that would only make birding feel like a chore, when it shouldn't be.

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    1. My enthusiasm for blogging is what has diminished to near zero, as well as flogging the patch for no reward. Birding still excites me a great deal!

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    2. My blogging enthusiasm is zero, my enthusiasm for birding on foot locally isn't much higher...urban Cork city centre, with its limited avifauna and endless traffic drone should I want to do any sound recording. Been out a bit more than of late this month when I can get a lift, and enjoying that, but it's very easy to not bother birding at all between lifts...

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  6. I enjoy your blog and would be sorry if you stopped. But it's true that everything - birding, travel, stamp collecting and trainspotting does degenerate into a checklist of "seen that, tick..." For me it helps to think about behaviour and the ecological niche the bird exploits - and you can do that for common birds too. We had a great time "birdwatching" in a town centre as starlings, crows and pigeons competed for crumbs (top tip - be more starling!) Keep it up and it looks as though Norfolk has reignited your enthusiasm

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    1. Cheers, I have plenty of things I could write about. I've been out on the patch a bit, I've been to Finland and to California, I have gazillions of Brown Pelican images I could share. I could comment on people wishing Big Ben to bong on January 31st and what I think of them, of stupid 50p pieces and of what a wretched state we are in. I could write about how I spent almost an entire morning arranging my little group of Philodendron vines and trying to smuggle a new one in, how much I enjoyed watching Dances with Wolves again for the first time in perhaps 20 years, and how fabulous a writer Jonathan Raban is. Yet somehow I can't be bothered. I wondered if I might build up a head of steam and all of a sudden "do a Gavin" (as it is known!) but there are no signs of that yet. Keep checking in, and thanks.

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  7. MIght I mention that I'm checking here today and am disappointed to see there's no new entry? :-)

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