I knew I had to spend some time meditating today. Every now and then I get this fractured feeling in my subterranean strata. Somehow meditation pours an oil into all the cracks, lets the currents flow once more through the core material and smooths out the possibility of snapping off an ankle in some hidden fissure.
My favourite is the Gyoto monks chanting to a background of chimes, Shakuhachi flute and didgeridoo. Every chakra resonates; from growling bass tones to haunting heart beats through to sprinkles of the etheric bursting into the caverns of my mind. It nurtures me.
This year I have finally, after 5 years of hard work procrastination and self doubt, competed my first book. A novel of some 65,000 words, the first of a trilogy in what is probably the psychological fiction genre. What will appear on this blog will be the next steps, of which there will be many, towards creating the best selling work that everyone who writes longs for...