Sorry – Not Me.

There is a horrible moment in a relationship where you see that your partner doesn’t know who you are. Thinking the way I think, I see this as a sort of projection of sorts from them onto you that they cannot see past. Breaking that down has proven to be impossible and it has caused damage in many instances. They simply see what the see and not the reality. Talking with others about relationships this last few weeks suggests to me that this is a human condition. Let me give you a couple of examples. For my last partner, I lived in cyberworld, ignoring her and chasing other women. It didn’t matter what I said, or did, this is what she believed. In fact, she still believes it. From my

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Heartache City

Eleven years ago, I fell in love. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t focus. I was intoxicated. Over the 11-years there were ups and downs and perhaps in retrospect signs that all was not quite OK. The funny thing is, often you don’t actually register the signs until afterwards. The last 2-3 years have been one long roller coaster of off and on again culminating in me finally moving out a few months ago. Even then, all was to some extent OK. I still loved her but I needed to get some space and process things a bit. In my heart, I think I knew that it was over but I held out that little glimmer of hope that somehow, the woman I once knew and loved would

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Words Are Easy

The only thing you can be sure of Is that you will hurt and be in pain Love and relationships just seem To end in disappointment all the same Words are easy Commitment harder I am lost again Promises broken The past spurned Love’s gone again Tired of trying to build a life Only to find it was never meant to be Getting older and so its harder The let down I feel is plain to see The dreams that I had imagined The things that we were still meant to do Smashed against the rocks of derision I am cut through and through Words are easy Promises too Whispered lover’s achings Lost somewhere in the breeze A tarnished future A rusted me Yes, words are easy Promises – simply

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In Search of Charisma

Charisma. It’s a word I hear used about people from time to time. People have a charismatic personality and people follow them. Charismatic people seem to have a knack to walk through life with a smile on their face. Confident, assertive and bold. I had a boss a few years ago in Houston who was charismatic. He was Dutch and I guess in his 50’s. He had a deep hypnotic voice and he took good care of himself. Women swooned and men followed without question me included. You felt good in his company and his energy somehow rubbed off on you as enthusiasm. Looking back, I really don’t know what he did exactly except build and maintain relationships. He offered little direction as a boss but commanded great loyalty. He

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It’s All About Marketing

As I cycled on the bike that doesn’t go anywhere this morning like a rat in a cage trying to keep down the middle age spread (can I say that at my age?), it struck me that almost everything I do these days requires marketing. It’s not longer good enough just to do something but now you have to find a way to tell people about it too. Ok, probably, it’s always been that way to some degree but now with social media and the way the world is, it seems that the louder and more effectively you sing your own praises, the more success you enjoy. But is it really that simple? On the one hand, it is. You must confidently and unflinchingly go forth and use every opportunity

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The Mystical Hexagram Book

Our book The Mystical Hexagram just became available of Kindle and so I thought it might be worth discussing this book in a little more detail. I began working on the Mystical Hexagram immediately after Inner Journeys was published. It all boiled down to three chapters of material and no matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to extend the material beyond those three chapters. However, I think those three chapters are the most important chapters I ever wrote in my life. The book looks at a symbol – The Hexagram. It uses the Hexagram to analyse several different systems – the Elements, Kabbalah, Tarot, Numerology and Alchemy – finding that this symbol unites the systems and reinforces certain meanings and relationships. I will be honest and say that I

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Astral Messages Reviewed by Gordon Strong

Many thanks to Gordon for taking the time to read it and then provide this very beautifully written review…. Astral Messages The Poems and Thoughts of a Troubled Mind Dr. G. Michael Vasey Here’s an interesting idea, to juxtapose prose reflections with poems. Of the latter, ‘A Dream’ and ‘Life’s Tapestry’ are gems of composition. The poems get my vote straight away because most of them rhyme, thus they have an inherent melody and rhythm. That is not to say blank verse cannot have these qualities, T.S. Eliot – for one – did pretty well on this score. It is a rare talent, however, and the experiment often misfires. What is very endearing is the honesty of the writer. In a gesture of great affection he dedicates the book to

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My Private Reality Sphere Part 1 by Seth of Acopalypse-How

Bubbles within bubbles, wheels within wheels , we are each a universe , complete with our own planet earth and surrounding cosmos. I call it My Virtual Reality Sphere . When I look up into the sky and see all the stars , I “know” they are within me, there is no out there , I know that if I want to reach out and touch the stars I can , they are no different than the trillions of cells in my body , they are part of ” Me”. You know the old saying ” You Think The Universe Revolves Around You ” well its true , the universe does revolve around you , we are each encapsulated so to speak in our own private Spherical Mirror , and

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Us and Them

Flames Burning us Bullets Tearing us It’s Us and Them you see Words Grinding us Fists Beating us It’s Them to blame if you ask me Bombs Ripping us Feet Stomping us Am I doing this to Them or to me? All is One don’t you see I am hating and killing me Them? Simply shades of me

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A Death and the Sadness of Hatred

It was 1979. The memory of the three-day week and blackouts was still fresh in my mind as I sat in the Aston University Students Union lounge. On TV was a woman. I was listening to what she was saying because, to me, it made a whole lot of sense. Raised in Hull – a working class town if ever there was one – I rejected the bitter class warfare that passed for socialism and I found myself the butt of snide remarks for it too. Comments like “who the hell does he think he is going to college and all – he should get a bloody job like the rest of us”. Some so called school friends never spoke to me again for going to college and betraying my

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