Never Quite Sticking With It.

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I make that three days in a row, including today, so ok maybe not quite on a roll, but better than I ever did in books (that is other than my 3 years of Morning Pages when I felt the voice of Julia Cameron at my back).

Now it's just up to me,  me and the keyboard, and the mind, or the essence, where I am told everything springs from. Such is my belief, or some might say gullibility, that I do believe there is more to me than meets the eye.

The website is coming on a treat, just a couple of small glitches to be ironed out then it will be ready for content to be continuously added. A little bit like Pennine Publishes Poetry, a previous hosting incarnation, which ran away with itself back in the 1990s.

Backdrop from Pennine Publishes Poetry Logo

Not that I am expecting, or wishing for such popularity on this occasion; quality, not quantity is the motto this time. Talking of quality; The Perfume of Silence sits on my desk beside me, I am looking for a good stretch of quiet time to read this book.

Yet I am already on the way with Being Aware of Being Aware by Rupert Spira. Perhaps because his writing is concise with clarity in abundance. Or perhaps it is because I have read the book before, a couple of years ago.

It isn't a poem today, instead a link to a YouTube video: Project 11 Being Aware of Being Aware


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