losing my femininity in india

Arriving at Everest Basecamp.
Braless.

As I sat on the flight to Jaipur in Rajasthan (Northern India) I felt a very uncomfortable feeling having a man further down the carriage relentlessly turn his head in order to stare at me. I wasn't wearing anything revealing, nor make up and yet this man followed me to the luggage collection before I had to say to him "go away". As is common for Western women in India, I soon realised I was getting a lot of ‘attention’ or glares from men. Farrel my ‘gay husband’, a friend from Sydney who I travelled with through Rajasthan for a few weeks would joke that he felt like he was ‘married to a celebrity’ and, bless his heart, found it pretty frustrating that he was constantly feeling in the background despite me saying I'd gladly exchange places. Personally nothing was more irritating than the constant request for a photo, the ‘are you married?’ and the feeling of being incredibly vulnerable.

At the beginning of my trip I was 'touched up' on a tourist bus twice, the first time I was asleep and felt ‘something’ which woke me and after stealthily covering half my face with my eye patches managed to catch the guy as he went for a second attempt. I got the confidence to speak up and thankfully he was later kicked off the bus. The second time I donkey kicked the guy and made it very clear that he was “not right!” shaking a boiling hot chai in his face as I walked on to the bus after our ‘pee in the street’ and 'grab a chai' stop.

It's a sad world we live in where women can’t express their femininity without feeling naked to the eyes of glaring men and I have wondered what the impact of pornography has had to the conditioning of minds, likewise, I appreciate that in India the imported Hollywood movies tell a 'story' of how women in the West behave and hence, leading to certain ideas very much off the mark.

My friend Adi, the local doctor.
Check out those pants!

So in an unconscious act of defence I travelled boyishly and wore a bindi. I made many friends who were guys, including local guys who didn’t see me as anything beyond a bahini (sister) which made traveling much more fun, offered a sense of security at times and empowerment actually. But it made me also pretty unsexy.

Don’t get me wrong, there have been practicalities in embracing my inner Tom Boy, I allowed myself to get hairy, much to the disgrace of my family, my toiletries whittled down to a bar of soap, a toothbrush and toothpaste. My dresses and skirts were abandoned and donated along with most my luggage as I left my big heavy rucksack to go to the post winter chill of the Himalayas where I stayed for 7 months. I adapted my style in line with the community, sporting the local woollen shawls, a bindi and whatever items of clothing were kindly donated to me (see above). I saw it as respectful to their culture as I saw many female tourists floating in with tight fit leggings and revealing tops. So I acquired quite an interesting wardrobe and wondered to myself on the fancy dress we call life. The fun we can have with 'costume' whether its a business suit or a pretty dress.

What seemed to come with my distinct lack of attentiveness to my femininity was the ability to travel and feel safe in India and Nepal. I became much more connected with Mother Nature. I had super short nails and would allow myself to get dirty trekking around the mountains. It was worth it in order to adventure and not attract attention to myself of a desirous nature.

Funnily enough, I didn't realise how unfeminine I had become until I visited the family of a dear friend in Kathmandu and found myself being dressed up by his mother and sister in a pink sari, having bangles placed on my wrists and getting my nails polished by them. It felt strangely familiar and I wondered why I hadn't allow myself to be a woman as I came to the end of my trip.

Which brings me to this feeling of frustration that as a woman I had to hide it. I was afraid to provoke. What kind of world do we live in where a woman has to do this in order to travel comfortably? Now I choose to be more direct and empowered. I protect myself. But it takes a lot to step out of that fear but I have to be straight with men who express interest - if its not there, its not there - but why sacrifice what could be an amazing long haul of a friendship?

I hope one day to see more equality and respect between the sexes. We have the same male-female genome on a genetic level, despite the hormones and we’re all human. Sure there are carnal desires but I hope mutual respect and love for one another can transcend that. Following the horrific rape of the young girl on an Indian bus, this message really hit home for me.

spreading light in remote himalayas

Little Sun

Little Sun is an inspired product and work of art that seeks to provide solar powered sustainable light in areas where electricity is scarce and people’s circumstances don’t afford them the opportunity of light.  They are a global project to get clean and affordable light to the 20% of the world’s population who have no access to the electrical grid. 

Tibetan nuns having a tea break

I was living with Tibetan nuns in an isolated monastery of remote Everest region, Nepal. There I was to experience chronic loneliness, isolation along with a desperate sickness that nearly saw me abandoning my travels and returning to Europe to be with my mum (know the feeling?).

My day would start at 5.30am where I would be awoken by the blowing of the conch to indicate the start of the mantras. The nuns performed a special 10 day long ceremony for long life and in devotion of the Buddhist deity; White Tara and I would sit in sometimes and meditate alongside them shifting from dead leg to dead leg while amazed at their stillness.

The Tibetan Buddhist Puja

Everyday they would sit and recite mantras until 8-9pm using the Tibetan Buddhist and shamanic inspired instruments, mandalas and offerings. It was incredible to be a part of and inspired admiration for these determined women who'd been forced out of their homeland in order to continue their faith.

I would help with collecting wood, vegetables, washing up and trek a little around the area, however in truth, I really struggled with the lack of integration and felt duly isolated having no more than my iPhone, some books and my friend and monk Pasang, who spoke English to keep me company.

But there is a reason for everything. And while in my somewhat adverse and alien circumstances, living in a mud hut sharing a room with a mouse, I learned an incredible amount through solitude. Especially the virtues of technology! One day I received a newsletter from Good.is and learned of the remarkable invention; Little Sun and having nothing better to do besides wash with cold water and a bucket in the chill outside, I got poking the screen and sent them an email.

A few months later, back in Parvati valley (India), I was collecting a box of Little Suns, which had been delivered from Berlin to the local doctor and my friend, Adi Sharma.

While in Parvati Valley there is a huge hydropower plant station being developed in order to capitalise on India’s most powerful river, Parvati; it appears that the small villages nearby are not to benefit from it. While locals in villages nearby continue to struggle for consistent electricity power and furthermore suffer winters of waist deep snow, isolation and poverty, the Indian government will continue to grow in power and wealth as a consequence of the Himalayan project. In fact the electricity bills for these poor communities is ironically high given the natural resource that is being capitalised on their doorstep.

Little Sun Love

I felt very blessed to be able to shine a bit of light for a family that took care of me while I made the 2 day trek to Kheer Ganga; the highest Holy River in India (and furthermore one complete with lovely hot springs) as I delivered the Little Suns in to the hands of a humble family who treated me as though I were one of their own.

They have no running water, live in a small room,  farm and forage for food while the five adorable children all roll together amongst handmade blankets on the floor to sleep. I stayed with them a number of times and while my body got attacked by bed-lice, I was happy to sacrifice comfort to be in the warm and loving environment of this kind family. Didi (sister) is like my own sister, a few years older than I am and yet with a wisdom far beyond. She also makes the best chapatti’s I have ever had and taught me a thing or two about cooking parantha on a tandoor. The family are low caste and sadly, at the mercy of the judgements and discriminations that this tradition afflicts but their acceptance of it astounded me. They would never complain. The only complaint I heard was of Didi’s husband explaining that the winters were so tough “it is like prison” as they spent their time confined within the four walls sitting around an iron box to keep warm.

Little Sun offered them something the Indian government has not; free and reliable light. I am all too humble to have had the opportunity to give their community something that for much of my life was taken for granted and I sincerely hope that anyone reading this can feel duly inspired to make a difference where they can, connecting good ideas and innovations with those that need it within our rapidly globalised and technological world. It doesn't take much.

In everyday life, it is important that we critically engage in global initiatives and local contexts. Our actions have consequences for the world. Little Sun is a wedge that opens up the urgent discussion about bringing sustainable energy to all from the perspective of art.  – Olafur Eliasson (Little Sun)

Like Little Suns Facebook page and check out their blog.

look at the sky

An incredible message to remind us to remember to appreciate and be grateful for the world and wonderful nature that surrounds us.

Nature taught me so much in my lifetime. I remember being 7 years old and recording the sound of morning birdsong out the window with my Toyprice plastic tape recorder. It seemed so natural at the time.

And then my previous city girl aversions to insects were seriously challenged in the Himalayas where I would find myself in situations of tolerance and acceptance. Sharing a room with 3 huntsmen next to my bed was the ultimate accomplishment. That and waking up on a mountain top, sleeping on a watch tower to discover a leach stuck to my forehead. 

In the West I noticed how we can be so removed from nature. Sitting on chairs. Eating with metal. Sleeping above the ground. Travelling on wheels. Sofas. Desks. In a sense we distance ourselves from the natural world we are very much a part of. 

Here are some shots taken on my tour in to the wilderness. Not only did I come out unscathed. But I returned wiser, braver and stronger. We don't need to live in the jungle to see and appreciate nature, but sometimes, it helps just to look up.

parvati, its not all about drugs.

Parvati valley, home of the Gods and the highest of India’s Holy Gangas is being poisoned.

“What would Shiva say?” was a question posed to students at Challal primary school as we sought to educate this next generation on the challenges their land faces in the name of progress. And a question you might wish to ask yourself also.

Without infrastructure to manage waste, an influx of tourists, guesthouses and plastic, the natural beauty of the Parvati Valley suffers. Poisonous waste has been thrown in to the precious rivers contaminating the purity of drinking water, the stomachs of grazing animals and the beauty of the valley. The future of these dramatic mountains is in the hands of India and yet in a time of economic growth, one might ask what does this say about the future of this nation?

If there is one thing I have learned about India; its where the heart lives and that is in and of its people to create change. A country that can’t have faith in its government. But can love and support its fellow man in the desperatist of times. And yet I see a familiar change on the horizon...

Coming from Britain, I have experienced the virtues of growing up in middle-class surroundings, living in a welfare state, getting a good education with high standards of living. Yet India spoke to my heart, she made me realise that we are not alone, the value of family, compassion and patience. And that we don’t need as much as society leads us to believe in order to be happy.

In England, we tend to have a mentality of ‘each man for himself’, we are separate from one another, don’t hold eye contact and our economy is maintained by the dark shadows that wonder through grey cold streets in London donning black suits climbing the ladders of perceived wealth. I love the sobering irony of having a nose in someone's armpit on the rush hour tube while avoiding any form of communication with one another at all cost.

"Money is the world's second God" A Himalayan Babaji explained to me. I've seen that in the West. How we buy. We buy. We buy. Blindly subscribing to the latest fashion, buying the latest gadget, believing the ideas that create an addicted nation through fear. But, don’t trust me, I also worked in advertising and in corporate finance :)

Kali Yuga, an old baba told me, is a time of draculas. Apparently that time is now. And what could be more symbolic than the life we suck out of mother nature around the world? Thankfully, in Britain, we can still turn a tap in the kitchen a drink clean water. We can shower with our eyes open and set the temperature to our skin’s comfort. We can walk the streets and not witness lines of degrading waste and smell the rotting garbage. And we can climb our comparatively feeble mountains and not find garbage that will live longer than we and our children stand to survive while polluting the rivers that flow through it.

But India, you are different. Where else in the world can a man wander the streets bare feet in a yellow robe and be offered alms? And you have such devotion to your Gods. How you demonstrate worship by making such sacrifices! The cues to make puja (prayer) in the temples would not last the patience of an Englishman. Your respect, devotion and faith inspired me. It inspired me, but, alas also let me down. Again I see the hypocrisy of man. You’ll pray to Sakti and in the same life carelessly throw poisons in to her land. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you" I was taught in school. How fear can make us lose our way.

The constant duality of devotion and destruction was hard for me to accept in Parvati Valley.

Parvati Valley was my home. I found myself roaming in the Himalayas, studying yoga and learning about survival amongst the beautiful people and wildlife that live there. And while I accept impermanence as a constant, in my heart I have faith that people might wake up and realise that if they really love God, then they might try, a little, to be inspired by the wonderful selfless idol they pray to daily and do something to protect Mother India’s land in his/her name.

Plastic takes over two centuries to degrade and with big companies such as Coca-Cola, Parle and Good Day increasingly residing in these mountains the land is being destroyed and the river, the life source, contaminated. Glass takes an Ice Age to degrade, burning plastic releases dangerous toxins in to the atmosphere which cause cancer and so the question needs to be asked – what can we do to protect prakrti (nature)? These substances are poisonous if they're not disposed of properly. And they say "Time is running out."

Unfortunately, in the holy mountains of India, too little is done.

Parvati Valley. Attempts to be more green.

A group of foreign volunteers organised clean ups along the riverside, on one occassion with the President and village Mayor we watched the transformation of the land as years of plastic and glass was dug out from the ground.

Caste pride had to be swallowed. I wondered whether caste pride was swallowed in the name of politics as I watched these honory members in the community. I respect the caste system of India but personally, I don’t see truth when it instils pride, judgement and discontentment to the extent where one cannot pick up a piece of mindlessly discarded plastic without feeling shame. Creating an illusion of separateness.

One day I shook the hand of a small child and gave her an apple; on-lookers were agasp. She was a ‘rag-picker’, akin to the young boys of Slumdog Millionaire, collecting plastic in exchange for rupees, essentially removing recycleable waste left to decompose and damage the land and yet in the eyes of the villagers watching, she was filth and whatsmore untouchable. In my eyes; she was an angel. At least someone was respecting mother nature even if it was unconsciously; in order to survive.

Drugs, deaths and dramas.

As the rave party season hit Kasol, Parvatti Valley, many of India’s youth from Delhi and Mumbai headed to the mountains to dance under the sky, enjoy the gushing sound of rivers and move to musical trance beats.

This year a darkness swept over the valley as chemical drugs, a rape case and deaths saw dramas unfold in the village of Kasol – Parvati was not amused and neither were the locals.

This infamous music scene of India that has the propensity to bring like minded hearts and souls in to ‘Oneness’ under the stunning backdrop of the Himalayas drew a different kind of attention. Parvati valley came under the spotlight. Media quizzed police narcotic superintendents, police stop and searches all perpetuated an image that Parvati is a valley of darkness, for drug barons and young people to dance with the devil.

It was dark believe me. I was there. Having been there in the low season thawing my finger tips in the belated winter snows - I witnessed this 'darkside' approach the valley. People I knew became paranoid. Locals became uncomfortable. Tourists scarpered.

And so one of the biggest experiences for me on my travels was living in Parvati Valley, Himachal Pradesh, India. I saw the law of cause and affect quite clearly. I saw the corruption and materialistic mindedness that slowly works its way through remote India and of course, I saw, smelled and listened to a LOT of absolute garbage while witnessing its destructive impact upon India's holy Himalayas.

Indian people ask me “Where’s your country?”
“Everywhere and nowhere” I respond. I get a smile.

“Who are you working for?” watching as I colour in another "Nature is God" sign.

“Nature” I respond.

“Where’s your husband?” I am asked. I am nearing 28 afterall.

“Shiva is my husband” I say and I get a laugh, a nod and a knowing smile.

When I looked at the world from afar, I realised how short life really is. And there’s a love I have for those big giant hills that speak to the wind and brush the clouds. Nature was my teacher and I was put to work. Although if I am honest, all I really did was listen to my heart; something that I was forced to do when I left life in Australia.

As for Parvati Valley. Well that place is certainly not all about drugs. While apparently the best hash comes from there and the turbulent chemical romance takes place during the festive season, it has much much more to it than meets the eye. India's Hindu God Shiva lived there, with his wife Parvati, and I can understand why. They weren't just good dancers...

While we might live in times of vampires, of ego, war and destruction, we also live in a time of constant change. We have our own way of learning. Mine evidently was cleaning garbage. On the inside I did much more. 

“Be the change you want to see in the world” said Gandhi. 

Realising that we all share responsibility whether we want to live in a Western individualised  money orientated existence and take the weight of the world on our own shoulders or whether we share it with our family, community and pray to a temple. We all are a part of the whole. 

Meanwhile mother nature, the hand that feeds us, is getting bitten... least we can do is show her some respect especially in the land of the Gods.

couch surfing in japan

Tokyo Neon

One of the most awe inspiring countries I have ever visited. The neon, the rush, the mountains dripping in washes of luscious greens and autumnal leaves, the ancient temples, the speedy trains and the people. Japanese people are as unique as their country and with hearts just as big. I spent one month traveling around Japan, everyday brought a new adventure, a new word (I was determined to learn a word a day) and a new source of inspiration.

Infamous masses at one of the busiest pedestrian crossings in the world

As someone who intends to spend a year traveling in destinations that challenge and transcend the normalities of the daily routine that life in the Western world presents, I am mindful that I want to avoid being a typical 'backpacker'. I've always wanted to get to know the places I am in rather than hover along in hostels dipping in and out of cultural destinations without tucking in to the real lives that are lead in these places, hence, I decided Japan would be a great place to Couchsurf.

Couchsurfing.

Couch surfing in Kyoto with my friend Natsumi

Couch-surfing is an online community where essentially people offer a spare room, piece of sleeping bag real estate or, as the name suggests, a couch for travelers to crash. My first couch-surf was with Vincent a lovely French dude who translates computer games in Shinjuku for a living. An apt career for someone who enjoys the intense rush of a projected combat game between puffs of a cigarette and a coffee breakfast. So French! I didn't know the protocol of couch-surfing and I didn't realise I would befriend such kind characters through it. Vince took me to some great bars with his friends in 'Tok Tok', introduced me to Oolong sake and thanks to him, I met Natsumi who coincidentally was also couch-surfing at his place as she made tracks to volunteer in Yokoma. Natsumi was my inspiration to also volunteer , a life changing experience with now a very close friend.

Vincent & Natsumi in Tokyo

The beauty of couch-surfing is it allows you to let go of any preconceptions you may have of a place and indeed your plan to some extent as you'll find the people you meet along the way also invite you to sample their life, their favourite places and learn from them. New cultures. New ways. New paradigms or shades to perceive the world through.

I am so grateful to couch surfing for allowing me to meet a number of Japanese hosts and inspiring me to also host along the way. Hence in Koyasan I invited a couple of friends I met along the way to pull up a couple of futons in my room in an ancient temple. Subsequently leading me on to further twists and tales on my galavants.

Sharing the love and green tea at the temple home

The community is a wonderful way to encourage people to learn from one another and to share and dismantle our conditioned ideas around separatism. You witness the kindness and compassion of hosts and are also inspired to spread the same to those who cross your path. A wonderful initiative. And one that sent my life spurring in so many directions I would never have expected.

I never made it out on my Nitro Snowboard. I didn't make it to the snow. The itinerary was torn up by day 2, however, the wonderful friend who hosted me along the way kindly offered to give snowboarding a go, while taking the board off my hands. I now realise it was for her all along.

Sign up for couchsurfing at www.couchsurfing.org

tsunami relief in japan

The wonderful "Make the Heaven" family

Volunteering in November 2011 as part of the tsunami relief with "Make the Heaven" was heavy, humbling stuff. Following the tsunami in Japan many people were displaced. Many are still living in temporary housing which are essentially iron boxes with office lighting. Some are living in houses slowly being rebuilt with watermarks still tainting the walls and family photographs reminding them of who they lost. 

I saw acres of wasteland. Destroyed cars piled up for miles. This was the post apocalypse and truly devastating to witness. And yet very real.

once upon a time this was a big town

School children revisiting their old school and town where everything was destroyed by the tsunami

As volunteers we worked on clearing the debris, supporting the community, visiting the elderly and rebuilding areas while lifting morale of those who remain in the area so stricken by the shocking affects of mother nature and her destructive power.

Dinner time at the volunteers home

Living with about 20 Japanese people I learned that language is more than spoken word and made great friendships with people who could hardly speak English (and me obviously not Japanese). Actions definitely speak louder than words. The power of community and altruism created a wonderfully hopeful space and vibe that helped everyone deal with the dramas seen day by day.

Arriving after a very long journey in the north of Japanese mainland for volunteering.
The masks were mandatory to minimise contaminated dust.

Too often we can feel helpless but little do we appreciate the difference we can make no matter how small we might think it is; making a child laugh, clearing a lady's garden, visiting the elderly or offering support. These are what help a community rebuild themselves - not just on the outside but on the inside too.

Witnessing first hand gives one the chance to really appreciate humanity and get perspective on one's own life. Now I was only there for one week, but many had been there for months dedicating their lives to others and working hard every day to make the lives of others better while risking their own while rumours of radiation contamination continue.

Working on rebuilding the washed out playground

I didn't need to be in Japan to do this, everywhere in the world there is pain, suffering, devastation and I am certainly no saint, but I will recommend that if the opportunity to do something like this comes around don't let it pass by. Its not easy. It yanks heart strings and takes a lot of energy but it gives one the opportunity to help those who are in desperate need.

My last day & wonderful friends farewell

a rubbish job in parvatti valley, india

Parvatti Valley is a stunning area of the Indian Himalayas strongly connected with the Hindu ancient scriptures. Hence, the culture here is based a lot on worship, however, tourism and trade have started to deplete the area as commerce has grown. 

There currently is no infrastructure to deal with waste, it is burnt or thrown in the river to become somebody else's problem or in fact, an issue for nature.

Subsequently the water is being contaminated as is the land. The land is looking disgusting in places where it should look magical, animals are grazing on micro landfills of waste and due to the caste system, collecting rubbish is perceived as the lowest of the low.

So a group of us volunteered our time to spark awareness in the community working with the local council, school and tourists we ran waste collections, a fun education program, graffitied messages and during the busy festival season ran stands that promoted the cause and raised funds by making festival decorations in exchange for donations from organisers. It was a fantastic initiative that brought some wonderful people together.

Local graffiti

Ensuring we had the languages covered was important, especially given the sensitivity around 'who is to blame'

Local school children coloured in Shiva messages to show and share with their parents.

During the festivals volunteers from Mountain Cleaners NGO from Dharamshala came to run collections & assist with fund raising.

The 'shanti space' where we spread good vibes & raised donations

Local graffiti

Next to the natural hot springs many bathe and subsequently put waste in the river.

Local children were so enthusiastic.

The first bin in Kasol at Challal School painted by the children

'Be the change you want to see in the world'

The 'project' started in March 2012 and continued to run over the summer period lead mainly by conscious foreigners and locals supporting their efforts.

Since it began, we are delighted to report that bins have been purchased for the 7 villages of Kasol Panchiat and the Holy pilgrimage site of Kheer Ganga is also implementing a system to ensure that the plastic is disposed of correctly.

Still there is plenty more work to be done to really tackle the waste problems in the valley. There are always more things to do. Corporations like Coca Cola can take responsibility for the products that are lining the valley. The huge hydropower plant developments in the area also have plenty of resources that they could dedicate to preserving the valley. Then there's the politics, money... etc.

Nevertheless as we demonstrated, with a little heart and effort we can create change. All it takes is for one to be true and put their words in to action.

Big thanks to everyone for their support. If you are interested in helping out please get in touch.

breathe in experience, breathe out poetry

Ripples wander through the mind
Along waters dark and blue
Rocking thoughts and paradigms
Opening streams of conscious new

The gates start to crumble
As floods of inspiration flow
A light reflects upon the ripples
and the surface starts to glow.

Green life springs through the soil
Along riverside it grows
With a wildness and a freedom
Of fresh seeds that have been sewn.

A moon is smiling down upon
A gently nurtured new born tide
And somewhere in this universe
The sun is only seen at night

The mind awakens to a world
Where new spirited thoughts can bathe
While light shines upon the ocean
Of ripples that became waves.

where did all the steering wheel locks go?

my first (and only) car

Probably a meaningless ponder but walking through Redfern, where I’ve been living these last 6 weeks, I couldn’t help but notice that I only saw one car featuring a steering wheel lock. As someone who hasn’t owned a car since she wrote off her Citroën AX a month after passing her driving test 8 years ago, I suppose I haven’t had the opportunity to deliberate the investment. But for that short spell of driving my papier-mâché on wheels (named 'Scum' after its registration plate SCM by my boyfriend at the time), whose boot wouldn’t lock and brakes didn't work, I would always ensure that the wheel was locked with a big red birthday present lock. Especially given I had a younger brother with a tendency to get up to mischief and who, after a couple of weeks of mysteriously having to push my seat forwards whenever I entered the car, I discovered was slowly filling my ashtray after sneaking through the boot and making the Citroën the exclusive after party venue on our drive.

Nevertheless I’ve been in many cars and journeys and gone are the days where the driver reaches under the backseat to whip out a long solid weapon to attach to the wheel. Why is this? Who won? Are people content with taking the risk? Has mandatory car insurance spared the car lock polava. What do these businesses do now?

Ahh and so a quick search on Wikipedia explains all:

Modern vehicles are fitted with a steering lock which is an anti-theft device. It is fitted to the steering column usually below the steering wheel. The lock is combined with the ignition switch and engaged and disengaged either by a mechanical ignition key or electronically from the vehicles electronic control unit.

Alas I realise I have become one of those luddites who is behind the automotive industries technological progression, but, after experiencing two blessed weeks without seeing a single vehicle, I can’t say I’m too disappointed. I am delighted to reminisce about Scum though and true to his name was he when he collided with a BMW 7 series. I had one very sore and broken boyfriend in the passenger seat who, bless his heart, after two operations, a few screws and a plate, forgave me and I’ve learned has since been duly compensated and now is the one driving the BMW.

3 years & still not offended anyone.

Blimey. That went by fast. I fell asleep on the train and awoke a few stops further than I expected. It's been three years since the launch of jectaspecta. I feel on such an auspicious day perhaps something digitally celebratory should take place like, for example, writing a blog post...

Firstly, my purpose of blogging is really self-serving. I have an appetite for understanding new things, and as someone who learns through experience, have found that writing these learnings down not only serves my memory but also might be of some (if any) value to others. Of course, I'm sure its mostly not, but people seem to visit anyway lost in a back alley of the interwebs stumbling in to my random mumblings and tangents. And yet while that remains the case, there are some things I have learned about blogging which might be of interest. Doubtful. But may be.

The 'proverbial list' of three things I've learned about blogging:

1. Don't expect the posts you spend the most time on to garner the most attention.
That doesn't mean its not worth investing your time in writing about things you love or are genuinely interested in as I mentioned above.

For example a couple of writings I deliberated on for days are certainly not my big winners according to Mr. Google Analytics, but I enjoyed learning about them:
food for thought
philosophical about the interwebs

Sometimes however you can strike bloggerland gold; I was pleasantly surprised when I learned that "changing the perceptions of giving" had had over 1500 views and this post was actually one that I was keen to share with others.

2. Be yourself.  
Some blog as a way to bring to life a professional persona. Others to keep a virtual diary of their latest escapades. I think one needs to be true to themselves and their interests while being authentic. This is my personal point of view. I don't just write for an audience; I write for myself because I'm actually interested in articulating ideas, stories or random thoughts.

If you have a point of view, don't be afraid to express it whether political (who will occupy wall street?) or even a personal tale (my festival story).

3. Edit, edit and re-edit
I have a terrible habit of editing posts once they're published. I'd like to blame perfectionism but perhaps in one's haste to 'go live' a comma goes amiss or worse still, what should be a pointy sentence becomes an overstatement with too many words to even breathe through. Knowing people have shorter attention spans with content online, keep it direct, use videos and images.

One of my most popular posts has lots of pictures of Hunter S. Thompson and two sentences. And lets be honest, people visiting this post aren't interested in what I have to say, hell no, they want some entertaining shots that Google Images has thankfully ranked highly in their search page.

Nevertheless the point remains. Keep it pointy, yes I know I don't do that particularly well but, it seems to work.

And with that I am going to tuck in to a cuppa earl grey for a sense of nostalgia and amuse myself with my rather lame first posts written three years ago whinging to myself about the prospect of turning 24 while looking down the barrel of (gasp!) 25, as I am now, looking down the barrel of 30. A charming quote I wrote, very apt given I am now leaving Sydney:

"I say be inquisitive, relentlessly raise the bar, be charismatic, chat to strangers, pick minds and don't be afraid of change."

Doesn't time move fast?