Whatever job I am doing, part of the work I do is keeping in mind who really is doing it.

Life itself expresses my writing and my every action of the moment.

The mechanics of writing or doing whatever I am doing are incidental to knowing that there is a larger source that is the idea and the real mechanics behind the details of my busy work.

The intricacies of the human brain, hand, and body doing such marvellous things as thinking, writing, building and repairing, planning and creating, are awesome.

Whose thoughts do I express? My own? Or those my life has been slowly leading me to through my previous reluctance and resistance to learn?

Quite simply, it's my privilege to re-write, to reprise, to set down on paper truths that I'm finally accepting and letting work in my life.

There can always be joy in re-inventing the wheel.