“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.” ~ Rumi

I found this quote and it really resonated with me. Since I have been deeply interested in genuine teachings on awakening, I realize that the world offers me nothing; all arises from within.

To submerge yourself in truth is an awakening in itself. Of course, you must then live a life, not a lie.

People may come and go in your life as they please; your inner peace is sufficient unto itself.

I contemplate ending my writing and realize that although I may not post as often, I can still be of service to a few readers.

My son is more than a son now; he is a true friend. Since my husband died, he has taken on new responsibilities without complaint. He is my cook and chauffeur, as I have written before.

Friendship, for me, has been about life with The Friend, as Rumi said of Shams. Nothing has guided me more than studying wisdom teachings.

What you learn is that lessons are repeated over and over again all day long. Paying attention increases your physical and emotional vitality.

The word “no” to the world of unawakened people is a test to your essence.

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Take It To The Limit

I had a big dream last night and it was long. My late husband, Bob, was dying and in bed. We were staying somewhere in a small town. The radio was on and it was distracting me. I asked my sister if she could figure out how to turn it off; I hadn’t been successful. She fiddled with it, but I don’t think she was successful either.

I went into the kitchen and there was a package of ground beef on the counter and some kind of meal. I made a recipe with the two items and discovered there was no bowl, so I jut put it on the counter in a bowl-like shape. It was a disaster.

My mother and sister were both there, but I didn’t want my mother coming in. Bob’s oncologist came. He picked up Bob, who was nude, and then said that he felt pretty healthy to him. He had brought a healer with him who was having great success at various hospitals in town.

I think the healer was hairy and naked and spoke with a heavy accent. We spoke briefly, but I don’t remember what he said.

As I woke up, I was trying to remember what song was playing in my head (or on the radio. It was “Take It To The Limit” by The Eagles.

My first thought was that this was a hopeful dream for me. All regular remedies for Bob hadn’t helped and even when a doctor came, he brought a shaman with him and he left.

The shaman was a man of few words and he was getting ready to do whatever it took to get results.

And then I woke up and I lay in bed trying to remember other parts of the dream. It was a long one and my feelings in the dream were that I was being frustrated in every possible way.

Here is my own interpretation. My writing is not dying; I can take it to the limit if I listen to my heart instead of my head.

I think the dream was reassuring me that things would fall into place if I quit thinking so much. I need to pay attention to my inner shaman, who calmly goes about his business while I was quite distressed. The song is telling me to sing it.

 

Photo courtesy of GerhardLipold

Vicki Woodyard
P.S. Comments anyone?

Hi Folks,

Things have gotten a little rocky with my health, neuropathy and tremor both slightly worse. Rob is healing nicely from his hernia operation, and that is good news.

I haven’t been out of the house for the last several weeks, since Rob is my chauffeur. Tomorrow we are meeting a friend for lunch and I look forward to that.

I am distressed that the tremor is in my vocal cords and that I have that to look forward to.

It is always when you need the teachings that you forget them. Sigh.

I am watching lots of movies, since the political scene is so horrendous.

I ordered some groceries online, which helps me out occasionally.

I am reminded of the silly song lyric I heard from someone (I shall Google it.)

“I feel better all over, more than any place else.”

There is light at the end of the tunnel and it’s an oncoming train….

Much love,
Vicki

Dear Friends,

I will continue on with the website, trying to go deeper if that is possible.

A Seasonal Donation would be welcome!

DONATE HERE

Love always,

Vicki Woodyard

Donations

 

Dear Readers,

I have decided to keep going with my blog. If you can contribute a small amount, here is the link below.

If you can’t this is OK, too! Rob and I are having a quiet holiday as always,

Here is a favorite quote of mine from the late Robert Rabbin:

“Pursue your own Self, and then let everything else pursue you.”

https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/vickiwoodyard

Thank you for your support!

Love, Vick

 

 

I am feeling crummy tonight; I always get blue this time of year. This is not an essay of complaint but of humanity, at least I hope.

I spoke of my power; perhaps it sounded like bragging, but it is just a fact. It doesn’t do me any good. I have just been told I have it. Just like several people have seen a large angel with me or saw light when they looked at me.

I am an old now and yet I am the ageless wisdom itself, as are you. We have all failed God, ourselves and our friend and families again and again. And yet what courage we have when all is said and done.

We see commercials about the man that gives his wife a new car for Christmas, while we sit at home mourning those we loved. But life goes on.

I worry the most about Rob being alone when I am gone. He looks after me tenderly and yet we have our skirmishes about me playing the TV too loud and about him turning the heat down after I have turned it up. We are without two of the four of us.

I want to talk about the soul’s loneliness that even a family can fill. I know my loneliness like the back of my hand. I know that I don’t fit in anywhere, nor do I want to.

I can put on an act when I am having to be social, but I got over social a long time ago. I prefer the richness of solitude. So why am I feeling crumby tonight? Because I am a human being among billions, just like every one of us is.

I study truth because I was led to it by loss. The loss has made me a writer, as you all know.

So, in a nutshell, perhaps it is spiritual power I have, that we all have. I now wave a magic wand over this essay and it will turn into whatever you need right now. As the great Leonard Cohen sang, “Hallelujah.”

Vicki Woodyard

I had a very bad day after I impulsively decided to stop posting on my blog. My reasons were rational. However, as the day moved on, I felt increasing bad physically. I think I have tendonitis on my left Achilles Tendon and I know I need to see a specialist about it, but this is a very bad time of year, plus it has just been a week since Rob had his hernia surgery.

I went to bed exhausted from worry and pain. I watched a movie about a man who got to meet the Beatles in India for a month and it all came about because he had been meditating. There is much more about it in the film.

I then had a dream that through a wealthy friend I could get a ticket to see the Beatles, who were playing in town that night and I left the house in dirty clothes. We were walking downtown and there were lots of people. But at some point I lost track of this friend but kept hoping to find her again.

At the end of the dream and all that walking, I put my hand in my pocket and realized I had lost the ticket!

So I woke up feeling better physically and emotionally. I would like to hear from you if you have any ideas about the dream after having made a hasty decision.

Vicki Woodyard

I am taking a break from posting essays on my website. I have prepaid for it, so it will still be up for about 3 more years. It isn’t properly indexed, so few new people discover it.

I have found a deep heart connection here  and on Facebook , albeit a sporadic one. A few of us are drawn to each other like magnets, and that is quite gratifying.

I can still go deep or light according to my mood. I feel the Facebook posts will be more spontaneous because it is easier to use as a medium.

Simplification is a way of life for me, especially in such complex world affairs. There is something easeful about doing what you can and yet not overdoing it. Just enough or even less.

I am grateful to those that find my work interesting. It is, in fact, all that I can write in the moment that my hands move over the keyboard. “I am one with my keyboard,” she said to the analyst. And the analyst smiled knowingly. I am, she thought, about to be transferred to the place where that is dangerous talk.

Vicki Woodyard