“When you close your eyes to the world, they open to the light of your own soul.”

A long time ago Jerry Katz called me “a word sculptor.” I hadn’t thought of that in years. Back then I was posting essays on Jerry’s Non-Duality Salon and in the middle of great grief. Now I see that what he said is true. I write by letting my spirit guide me to shape and mold an essay. It is easy for me because it is the only thing that I can do on an artistic level. But my words pertain to the soul rising from the chains of the ego. I do it because I do it.

It is pre-dawn here in Atlanta and I have eaten breakfast and had a cup of tea. What shape will my words take today? Hmmm.

We are all given a human body that is an actor on the human stage; we have Shakespeare to thank for that description. “He struts and frets his hours on the stage and then is heard no more.” That is true. We all fret more than we strut; our only chance of true escape is by knowing we have no free will. What we need is grace to rise above what happens to us. It is all beyond our control. I do not invent or paint or do anything else creatively. This is what I offer.

Before we come to grace, we have to do our inner work and sometimes it feels impossible to rise above our feelings. Our feelings are powerful inhibitors of grace because they are so negative. So the tool we use is to admit our failings, to let things happen in due course. But who is able to do that?

I watch Vicki make mistakes day in and day out. She is a prisoner of her destiny, yet there is a key that will unlock the door of grace. Will this be the day that she actually uses it?

I call myself “Vicki” when I speak of my personality with its complex and contrary traits. These were assigned her at birth by her genetic makeup. Make no mistake about that. She is not free of those.

So what is grace but self-acceptance and forgiveness? And how do I quiet Vicki? The only way I have found to do this is by telling the truth to myself. Vicki is strong and weak at the same time. She is ruled by the tides of her persona and can do nothing but accept this. This is the divine plan.

Vernon Howard used to tell us that all is well and so it is. The love we bear so heavily is turned into the light of the soul. We cannot access this; we can only be it. In this way alone do we come to grace.

Leonard Cohen is a muse for me. “There is a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.” And that is what I write about. Don’t fight the cracks; they are essential to becoming a force for good in this fallen world.

Vicki Woodyard

Whenever I consult my mind, I lose consciousness and become mechanical. To know this is pure gold. It has taken me a lifetime to assimilate even the most basic spiritual principles and this morning I decided to write even deeper than I have previously.

For one thing, neuropathy and tremor have slowed me down and that is giving me more and more time to go deep rather than go shallow. We go shallow when we cave into the weakness of our very own minds. Had I been stronger mentally, I would have not gone against my own inner knowing and attended a gathering which made me susceptible to a virus. I had to go into the hospital to get better. Four years later I had developed a tremor that would involve my entire body. It is not visible except when I move certain muscles; otherwise you would not know I have one. Tremors always get worse in time, so I know what my future holds.

I tell you this because being beset with this caused me to do some deep thinking. I did not want to attend that event because I was going out of town to visit my sister. I had my clothes hanging in readiness for the trip. But pressure was put on me to attend this gathering and help out. I was out of my comfort zone and vulnerable to the virus. Had I been able to say yes to myself and no to the person urging me to attend, I would not have gotten the tremor. My neurologist confirmed this, saying that the virus more than likely caused the tremor. He said this because he had treated many transplant patients who got a lot of viruses due to their low immune response. A lot of them developed tremors.

I have revisited what I did against myself that night many times over and now I see that my own consciousness is pure gold. No one can be my consciousness for me. This insight is also pure gold. I know what works for me and what doesn’t.

We deny our own knowing many times a day and it is serious business not to honor it.

The next time someone is forcing you to conform to what is against your own light, know that your power will be drained when you do it.

I studied with Vernon Howard and one of his favorite words was NO. I now understand that. I have no obligation to the world, which is sound asleep. As Jesus said, “Come out from among them.” Your own light, my own light, matters. Darkness is deep and the night is long, but hope arrives in the form of a YES to yourself, despite what others may be urging you to do. Your own consciousnesss is pure gold.

Vicki Woodyard

Rob is over covid except for a nasty cough. His appetite is normal and he took a walk today. I told him that it made me appreciate him unloading the dishwasher, taking out the garbage, wheeling the can to the curb and that made him smile.

I didn’t sleep last night and I am writing this before sunrise. I muse on my life, the one that is in my rearview mirror now. I was never interested in the world, so I took to spiritual studies easily. I read hundreds of books on the subject of awakening and the Book of John remains a favorite of mine.

All of these books were mental exercises that were futile to me on the emotional level, for I had been traumatized by the illness and death of my daughter.

When my husband got cancer, too, decades later, I walked in numbness and exhaustion again for years on end. No one could relate to my life experience of losing both child and mate; I felt like a social pariah. I had been writing humor before my little girl was diagnosed, but I tossed it aside for my spiritual studies. Today I still inject a bit of humor into my essays and always a bit of truth that is uncomfortable. For life is uncomfortable and becoming more so. Climate change is real and hurtling towards us.

The actual floodwaters portend the great flood that led to Noah building the ark. Esoteric Christianity says that the teachings are put into the ark and will be reseeded when the waters recede once again. This sounds like a fable, but now we realize the the planet undergoes these cataclysms every so often.

Losing a child to cancer is a cataclysm of sorts, this I know. My writing turned serious when she was diagnosed. She became a patient at St. Jude’s before she turned four and died right after she turned seven. After the death of my husband, I went deeper into self-realization. Outwardly I joined a women’s spiritual group, then a cancer survivor’s group and finally, I began going to kirtan. But these were all given up at some point.

During this time I built a fabulous website, as most of you know. I carelessly let it go and began my WordPress site, which has less than a hundred subscribers. All of this is fated and I am now letting go of my old life.

Those who read me know me and newcomers to my writing learn to know me as well. I am a seeker of truth and find my own solitude to be enough and plenty for me as I grow older. Gone are the days when I sought enlightenment; that is for beginners. The thing we seek is unknowable. The soul is our home and it has nothing to do but be.

Love is the answer to every question, but it must begin within. It heals the wounds it did not make, or so it seems to me. What is left now but watching the show?

Vicki Woodyard

On Keeping Silence

These days I am a keeper of silence. Oh, things get in the way, of course. Like when I had to reset the clock after our power went out briefly. I managed to reset it but I accidentally set it for the alarm to go off. Now I have to figure out how to turn it off!

This morning I woke up feeling antsy, so I am slowing everything way down in order to soothe my nerves. They are jangled because of Rob’s covid. Thank goodness, so far nothing frightening has happened to him. I have kept him in fluids and easy-to eat foods. I have also taken over his duties in the house.

But back to silence. For decades I have felt guilty over not having a social life, but now it is inevitable. I embrace it and pray it continues. In retrospect, I was never someone who enjoyed socializing. For me, an introvert and a spiritual student, it seemed like I could never be who I truly was.

Twice in my life, someone has told me that I had a lot of power and that does not lend itself to chitchat. I feel that I was born with it and that as I deepened my spiritual practice, so did the power. It is not something I use; it is something that I am without taking thought. You feel it when I write because I try and write the truth. God IS a jealous god in the sense that if you are too social, He will not come in. The sacred does not like the profane.

So what has silence done for me? It gives me time for the things that the soul thrives on. It thrives on honesty, for one thing. It also thrives on anyone that returns to Source for its healing.

So here I am, alone to the Alone. Nothing I write matters. Nothing I say matters. The Tao flows on without any mental help at all. Loved ones die and it flows on. Countries fall and it flows on. Time takes everything away from us and it flows on.

Grace and silence are often connected. It is only by the grace of God that goodness falls down around us like a mantle. First we surrender and then we experience grace. Everything is lawful; everything in its time. Hallelujah!

Vicki Woodyard

I have always been a solitary, even when with people. There is no shame or blame in saying this; it is just how I was born. Maybe a handful of you feel that way, too.

Perhaps this is why I was so strongly drawn to the spiritual path; it fed me in my aloneness.

My husband was gregarious but essentially a loner himself. Although he enjoyed people, he never let them into his soul, you might say. His essential goodness was felt by all who came in contact with him. And yet he was such a loner that he never said to me, “I’m going such and such a place. Wanna come?” He just went out. I was never that secure in my own skin.

My parents seemingly enjoyed a normal social life, but they really didn’t. A lot of my father’s friends were doctors that he sold to (He ran a pharmaceutical company.) My mother had one year of college before her father made her quit and go to business school; this was a cruel thing to her.

My father only went to the eighth grade but made a success of his life. At home, however, that was a different story. It was easy for him to get addicted to prescription drugs, because he had so many doctor friends.

I was the only one that stood up to him. Neither my mother or my brother dared. It was instinctive for me to tell him he was mean when he whipped my brother with a belt. My brother never said a word. When we were emailing during the 3 years that he was the sickest, he told me that our father beat him once a week, even when he had done nothing wrong.

I have gotten off the subject, but that’s okay. You see, my solitary nature has led to me doing what I love the most, studying truth and writing about it. But I never want my words to be clinical or dry. I like to arouse emotion in the reader. No one enjoys cut and dried writing about their inner life.

One more thing about my parents. They were both good with words and so were all of us siblings.

Being a solitary is increasingly common as we all sit home alone with our phones or computers. I can write essays all day but I don’t want any of you to come over and visit. I don’t even want to talk to you on the phone. Giggle. Having said that, when I write, I love reading your comments. That is a real gift to me.

My son has covid now so I can’t go to the grocery. My neighbor got a few things for me and on Wednesday I will make an Instacart order. Very expensive that, but I have no choice but to do that until Rob has recovered.

Vicki Woodyard

“The Mud” in my life has been caregiving, death and grief twice. Out of these experiences the lotus has arisen, but not completely and not without intense inner work. You see, outer work is valuable but without inner work, the lotus does not stand a chance.

Inner work is invisible to everyone but it must take place or the lotus will not bloom. The Work is the milieu in which my inner work is done. In silence I lean toward peace while my ego leans towards power. It is the same with all of us. As hard as we work, the ego is doing its dastardly thing.

Human beings are complicated while silence is oh, so simple. The mind is churning out its ridiculous and monotonous thoughts while the inner Self says nothing.

Listen carefully; this is about energy and how it works. The ego drains your energy while consciousness soothes you. Silent consciousness is the lotus in the mud.

There is no such thing as chance or accident as far as human souls are concerned. There is a pattern from which we cannot stray. We must die to thought and rise into silence. We all know how hard that is, but our efforts will take us a long way.

Sitting in silence, the mind tries to escape into thought.

Escaping into thought has never worked, not once. Oh, practical thought is necessary to survive in the world, but silence is about the higher worlds.

I once wrote that if we listen, we hear a symphony of silence. I once heard the angelic choir and I shall never forget it.

So keep sitting with your thoughts as you breathe in and out. The one who listens to them is not the one that is thinking them!

Vicki Woodyard

Well, Rob has come down with Covid! His symptoms started Thursday night and he is very congested (mainly in his head.) No appetite and I don’t know if he has a fever or not. I have ordered some Tylenol and a decongestant for him to take. Also seltzer water and some colas.

He is isolating upstairs so I haven’t seen him much. It rains every afternoon and we have a lot of trees in our yard. I just came in from picking up debris from the yard and deck.

I have gotten quite a few donations for “Lotus in the Mud.” I’m gratified to hear that those who have read it have liked it a lot. I will keep writing essays, but it is probably my last book. They take an awful lot of time to put together and edit. I have caught 3 small errors in the ebook, but they are just simple typos, so no worries!

When I wrote “Life with a Hole In It” and “Bigger Than the Sky,” they came out in paperback, so I had to do extensive editing on them. Brevity is my strong suit, so everything I have written is simple and to the point. That may be because I wrote one-liners for comedians for years.

These days I feel like I have come into my own, writing-wise. I write on the same themes again and again, but try to keep the wording fresh.

Should you decide to donate to get an ebook of “Lotus in the Mud,” just click the link below.

DONATE HERE TO GET YOUR COPY OF VICKI’S EBOOK.

AND THANK YOU!

Hello Vicki,

I have just read the preface and four or five of the essays. I have been reading your blog for some time now and always found them to be filled with honest, raw insights into your life—and LIFE itself. But, I must say, my previous reading did not prepare me for your pieces in “The Lotus in the Mud.” I read these first few and then realized why you used your wise words to suggest to us readers that we read them in meditative silence. Believe me that is what I’ll do from now on. I plan to re-read and then read the rest just in the way you suggest.

Obviously this writing came to you and out of you from the deep silence where the Holy resides. I relish taking an essay every day or so and sitting with it in the silence. That’s how the words came to you; that is how the words will find my soul. God speaking to me through you.

Thank you so very much for sharing your talent in this fashion.

Blessings and Peace be to you my friend,

D. in Canada

Dearest Vicki,

When I wrote this morning, I truly meant (as you yourself wrote) that the people who had this book really were going to be very glad. I was enthralled with the first four pages — one of those being the preface.This afternoon, I read several more pages.The pages did not take long to read at all. It was the inner savoring that refused to be “quick and done.”

I sat silently knowing that I was reading something so special and so real.You mentioned the beauty and perfection of Leonard Cohen singing his beautiful words.I was experiencing that in the reading of your well-crafted words that brought everything to life. Despite being an introvert, you are able to reveal far more than the most extrovert of extroverts!

This reading and then savoring what I’ve read is not what I do typically; but I know (for me) that this is what I’ll probably be doing for the rest of your ebook.

I love it!!

Seven people have my new ebook. I just read it again and it rocks! Those seven people will be glad it is in their hands. You would think that having written thousands of notes, that I would have become better at self-advertising. Not! I walked away from my old blog, not realizing that I would lose hundreds of followers, but I did.

My blog currently has only 83 followers and less than a dozen ever comment on my blog. So I have returned to Facebook and now my notes are being read by more people. I have given up on trying to market another book, but an ebook is a relatively singular endeavor. “Lotus in the Mud” was written in a different frame of mind than usual. I knew in advance that it was for the few.

Love is the only thing that can take the slings and arrows of misfortune and we are love itself. Hate is just a mirage in the desert of the mind. Sadly, hate is destroying this beautiful planet. And greed is a part of hate.

Our job is to choose love again and again and again.

Every one of us has our own love/hate relationship with ourselves. Nothing can dissolve hate but love.

I am grateful to those seven people more than they can ever know.

I am a writer until they day I die, even when I am unread, I know that I am love itself.

Vicki Woodyard

Should you want a copy of “Lotus in the Mud,” click the link below.

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