Sitting here empty….

Sunset on Megyeri bridge, Budapest
I have entered a new phase of my life and I can only call it a time of unknowing.

My new book has been given over to God. I have offered it as sacrifice, at first with hope and now with dread. For God does not take our surrenders lightly.

I have to put my money where my mouth is now. I cannot speak of things I do not know and I do not know why things are as they are.

I simply sit here empty.


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The Integrity of the Inner


Thank God we are integrity itself; we always know our wholeness on some level. It may be hidden, waiting for the chance to feel safe enough to show itself.

Last night I sat in kirtan (devotional chanting) and felt my inner wholeness wrapped in a cocoon of sound. I don’t know much about call and response, but I add my whispery voice to the overwhelming vibrations of Om arising from the lips of devotees.

I look around and feel at home within this community. It is rather tribal and I feel God has placed me here to celebrate the silence.

Each kirtan is different. The crowd changes, the performers change but the musical journey back to the heart is certain.

This morning the silence is deep and rich. It came from the chanting. It allowed each person’s integrity to be re-perceived, the lost treasure to be re-found.

I spoke with Stephanie, who was the sole female voice last night and asked her if she was tired after a long performance. In so many words, the answer was yes, but she was also zoned out, blissed out by the experience. We, strangers to each other, felt a soul knowing that arose naturally as we talked.

Integrity is a word seldom used these days. It doesn’t have to be. But when one can remember one’s true nature, one doesn’t need the word.

Vicki Woodyard

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For the Blog

Dear Friends,

Welcome to my blog. I post on Facebook but am trying to do that less and less. Why? Because I get too dependent on what people say about my writing. This can be a very bad thing for writers.

I am first and foremost someone who writes from spirit and let’s face it, Facebook goes easily into personality and ego. Anyone who doesn’t see that is crazy.

So here I am on my own turf, so to speak. Willing to say what comes to heart and mind without seeing how many “Likes” I get.

There is a living truth that no ego can ever own. It is this I seek when I write.

“Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven,” as Jesus put it.

Heaven, for me, is being truly at one with myself.

If I am not, no one else can be!

I have a new book out that consists of intimate email conversations with my late friend Peter.

His simple take on life breathes life into the book. I hope you will order a copy from amazon. At this point I am not mailing them out personally, so that is the best way to go.


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Bigger Than The Sky: A Radical Awakening

Bigger-than-the-sky_front Dear Readers,

Bigger Than The Sky is my newest book. Small and backlit, the little bird on the cover is getting ready to travel at tremendous odds. That is the story of my friend Peter and I. Intrepid adventurers in our inner worlds. Peter had much to tell me in a short period of time. Now, in this book, you get to benefit from his wisdom. The reviewers have been kind.

Jeff Foster says “Highly recommended!’Nuff said!

As you turn the pages, you will fall in love with what Peter has to say. Each word a jewel, a precise formula for bliss seemingly there for no reason.

Right now the listing is not showing up correctly. There is no image and it says it will take 2 or 3 weeks to get it or that it is out of stock temporarily. None of that is true. Put a copy in your shopping cart and it will magically appear and be mailed to you ASAP.

I am tied up in knots about the snafu. Peter would just say “ho ho,” For his awakening was total.

Order the book in paperback. It will become a treasured friend. And you will help this little writer keep on doing what she does best. (and it keeps me out of trouble.)

And reviews are needed to help get the word out. Here is the link to

Vicki Woodyard

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Finding the Groove

Chen Sunset

I stepped into an ancient Now
I drew a breath and took a bow.
I have been here times before
some recent, some from days of yore.
I knew it all right from the core.
But clouds and mist now drew a bead
and I was lost in sudden need.
But love, so tender, moved inside
my creaky body and closed mind.

The Master seemed to melt and
glow and wink at me as he
and I together flowed.

I touched my heart.
I touched the sky.
The joy and sorrow filled my eye.
It’s here I live and here I move.
And love will always find the groove.

Vicki Woodyard

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The Great Unknowing

Wine of Words

The Great Undoing arises from the Great Unknowing. Okay, so spirit wanted me to write those words down. I don’t know “why.” Perfect! For I have (and am) in a Royal Funk. Please note the use of capitals, which represent desperation.

The great student has become the one sitting in the corner with the dunce cap. Huh, wha, whozzit? whazzit? Duh.

I wrote a small volume of conversations between me and a man called Peter.

Peter had come undone, as some song says.

He ran naked across the fields of now.

Well, not literally, but figuratively.

His mind ran naked as well.

His spirit body was clothed in light.

It is this that I speak of in my new book, Bigger Than The Sky. Okay, there was a glitch and it won’t show up in paperback on for several more days.

In the meantime, I am being undone. The grave clothes being unwound.


Vicki Woodyard

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A Possible Prayer

Lord have mercy on me,
When in a room and forget I’m there.
When I haven’t a clue and haven’t a prayer.
I’m glad you’re there.

Lord have mercy on me,
who thinks she can write
but still gets uptight
about what people think.
(I think I stink.)

Lord have mercy on me,
Filled with pity and no
longer pretty except when
I forget to think about
this cellulite and what
fell last night.
(I think it was another
layer of myself, a
landslide of the body
quietly giving way.)

Lord have mercy on me,
feeling loveless and shoe-horned
into a small life instead of
the glass-slipper one I wanted.

I’m no Cinderella, Lord,
but I do love pumpkin pie
and pumpkin cheesecake.
I’m getting off-topic now
thinking only of chow.

Lord, have mercy on me,
I don’t know how this knee
shall bow unless you kick
it out from under me.
Go ahead. I’ll count to three.

Vicki Woodyard

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A Starry Field

The body’s made of blood and bone.
I walk the stony sky alone.
The moon a rock;
the earth a star.
I know not even
where You are.

A starry field
that will not yield.
The sun blots out
the twinkling light.

I fall down among the Milky Way
and nurse my wounds.
I’m in full flight.

But wait, within a field I lift,
the wind has taken a new shift.
Something stirs.
I take its hand
and wander far among
the jeweled strands of light.

The night has shown me
countless stars
I once thought
were endless scars.

Silence takes me where it will.
The night has lost its bitter chill.
Awake, my darling precious daughter,
I give you only living water.

The body’s made of blood and bone.
But I am never quite alone.
The moon a rock;
the earth a star.
Inside you dwell,
as love you are.

Vicki Woodyard

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Just Let Go

Somebody said that I needed to let go.
So I sat down and tried a bit
and then I sat with holy writ
but couldn’t get the hang of it.

Somebody said I was too much alone.
I felt my antisocial self
was rather like a stone.

Somebody said I wrote like a champ
but needed to share it with the camp
so I lit a fire and drank some brew
and read aloud to “you and you.”
But that wasn’t what I had to do.

Somebody said I needed to let go.
So I lay down and took a nap
which ended up in quite a flap
as I had my head in someone’s lap.

Somebody said that I needed to let go.
I tried it fast.
I tried it slow.
But I still held on tight, you know.
This precious ego just won’t go.

Vicki Woodyard

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A Radical Awakening

Shy Boy Head Study (1)

“Vicki Woodyard writes close to the bone of grief- a place she knows
intimately- exploring with courage and compassion what it means to be
human, to experience deep loss, to continue to receive life in the face of
what stretches us beyond what we thought we could endure.”

~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer, author of “The Invitation”
Resting in God

These days I rest at the still point much of the time. And that is what Peter and I did when we sent our emails back and forth. Peter had seen through the futility of effort. After all, his body had rebelled in a very symbolic way. It said wordlessly, “Go beyond me.”

And so he did just that. What else was left?

And I would retreat to my Mac at the end of another long day of caregiving to rest in what was also beyond my body.

In that ethereal air, Peter and I connected by a slender thread of reality. When everything seems broken, we turn to confession.

Perhaps all he and I did was enter the confessional of the keyboard. Now that he and Bob are gone, I find that my life is a respite from effort. I do little besides go to Tai Chi and the occasional kirtan, where Indian chants resonate into the open heart.

Rest is needed more than ever.

The restless thoughts and feelings drum at us incessantly.

Be still and know. Be still and know.

And in that knowing, something splendid can arise.

The unknown finds its voice right here in the knowing.

Silence and rest.

Out of that, everything meaningful arises.

Vicki Woodyard,
Author, Bigger Than The Sky: A Radical Awakening

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