Ever deeper.

An inner life. And an outer life. Internal and external. I have ‘em both. And the life I cherish most. Happens to be my hard to define inner sanctum.  Maybe best described as my heart, my spirit, my gut. The real me. Existing beneath the surface. Best expressed. When I’m alone. Turned inward. In a meditative state. More and more. I’m trying to write. To muse. From my interior. An attempt. To make my subconscious more conscious.  I was brought up. Under the notion. That I had to look outward. For life’s most profound meanings. But now. I’ve concluded. Best to go in the opposite direction. Inward. Inward. Ever deeper. Into my soul.  --Jim Broede