Wow, what can I say? I had your book in my bag this morning because I was going to an appointment and reached for it as I left the house. I was the first in the waiting room. I took out your book, Life With A Hole In It, and began reading.

The waiting room filled up and emptied, filled up and emptied again. I looked at my watch. Wow, over an hour had passed— but I was so enjoying reading the book. Not a patient person by nature, compounded by the fact that I had back- to- back appointments all day long. But I needed that time; I really did.

The waiting room filled up again and I thought I had better check to see if they had lost my file. I kindly and politely asked if they had lost my file. (Unusual for me— my heart normally races if I get behind on schedules!) The receptionist looked puzzled and said no.

As I sat back down I was so looking forward to what lay in front of me in the book. I could just feel the office staff scrambling to find my file. Wow, the next section had a paragraph about patience. I smiled. Yes, I was meant to read this book today.

Shortly I was called back for my appointment. On the way out, the doctor actually came back over to me and said he was sorry for the wait. My file had been pulled and had somehow got lost in the shuffle. I told him that it was okay and that I really needed that time this morning.

On the drive home I cancelled all my appointments for the day. I got home and went to sit outside, I felt the warmth of the sun shining down on me and listened to the serenade of my wind chimes. I breathed deeply and the sky looked so clear and I was so grateful to just be.

My heart was being nourished and fear of missed deadlines faded into a distant memory. I so needed that today. I had dinner and then decided to have dessert— fully immersed in finishing up the amazing art of your words that brought me back to my center today.

The last 30 days have been a swirling, speeding gyroscope until today when your words on the page reminded me that I have the free will to step out of; and step out of I did. I know I will sleep well tonight. What can I say other than I love you, Vicki Woodyard.

I felt like I was sitting next to you as I read your book. You were right there in your words as I stepped out of my shadow of the last month. Oh and I have my helmet in the garage!

Julia Chappell Hays,
Bradenton, Florida

Order Life With A Hole In It here.

My life has taken many dark turns, not the least of which has been my years of grief work. It is never finished, for things trigger it. My son and I are sort of post traumatic stress disorder-ish from years of having dying people under our roof. Sometimes we think it is us. We worry about each other intensely and try not to show it. Try to rise above it. Doesn’t always work.

I know all of the maxims, adages, old saws and spiritual teachings. None of them work all of the time. There is no paradisiacal state wherein you are perfect. If a spiritual teacher tells you that, they are wrong. Humility is being left out. Humanity is being excluded. We should all be able to say, “There but for the grace of God go I.”

Lately I am banging on heaven’s door crying “Help me. Help me!” It is that “all Thy waves and billows have gone over me” feeling that is so familiar. And yet as I sit here writing, the transformational process kicks in. My writing knows more than I do. It knows that I do best when I am in service to the higher, not to my vulnerable ego.

I hope you see yourself in my work. I can’t show you the perfect state for I haven’t reached it. But there are jewels in Indra’s net. Yesterday at Tai Chi, Cate led us through a movement that was like casting your net into the sea and then letting it go so the fish could come in. We picked up the moon in the water and placed it gently back in the sky. Ah, such power comes only from non-resistance.

Kwan Yin continues to guide me through that most powerful statement: “I vow to relieve the suffering of all sentient beings.” The vow is the how.

Vicki Woodyard
Life With A Hole In It

I dreamt last night that I was on my way to see my doctor. I took my little white dog, Christy, with me. I left her in the car. So at today’s Guided Imagery/Tai Chi Event, we were asked too call forth an image to work with. An image from a dream or an event in real life. So I chose the image of Christy in the car. What could that mean?

I dream of her quite often, and also of our large collie/shep dog named Wendy. I think that the dream could be pointing out that it’s time for me to let my frisky little self accompany me more often, instead of locking her in the car.

When I got home, I got a sweet invitation from someone inviting me to kirtan next month. I think I will go, think I will take the little dog with me. I am doing tai chi, maybe I can do kirtan as well. Whaddya think?

 
Love Dogs ~by Rumi

One night a man was crying,


Allah! Allah!


His lips grew sweet with the praising,


until a cynic said,


”So! I have heard you


calling out,
but have you ever

gotten any response?”



The man had no answer to that.

He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep.


He dreamed he saw Khidr, the guide of souls,

in a thick, green foliage.



”Why did you stop praising?”


“Because I’ve never heard anything back.”

“This longing you express is the return message.”


The grief you cry out from


draws you toward union.


Your pure sadness

 that wants help

is the secret cup.


Listen to the moan of a dog for its master.
T
hat whining is the connection.


There are love-dogs


no one knows the names of.


Give your life

 to be one of them.

Sometimes when I pull my heart apart, an essay or poem pops out. Just like giving birth to a physical baby, the heart becomes a birthing chamber for something yet unseen. Something new.

I now know that my words have the power to heal the reader. I never know why or who. It is my business to open the flow, to be here as a “catcher.”

Today it seems to be about starlight. But it is 10:10 a.m. and it is cool and cloudy outside. Nevertheless, here it comes.

The starlight you made on earth
now ascends into the hearts of many.

Bob, unknown to anyone but the few,
now rides across the plains of the desert,
catching fire as he shines into this
raw place and that.

A stargazer may look up into his eye,
catch him gazing back in all his beauty.
(He was such a precious One.)
And had a message to deliver via me,
me the one that kicked and screamed,
“Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.”

The stargazer may now sigh with
relief that he never left at all.
He moves off into the horizon,
Growing fainter as he gathers speed
the stillness radiating in the heart of
the One he graced with such infinite
care—still there.

Vicki Woodyard
http://www.amazon.com/LIFE-HOLE-Thats-Wisdom-Awakened/dp/1609102770/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1355329551&sr=1-1&keywords=life+with+a+hole+in+it

Here is the link to my first piece in Rebelle Society. Enjoy and do leave a comment there. Just scroll down to the bottom of the essay. Keep scrolling until you see Comments. You can leave yours and by so doing, help me out.

Click here!

I write to save my sanity; I write to save my soul. To say my piece. To regain composure. To lick old wounds. To die trying. To rise above the ruins. To hold the pieces of essays in my hands like sand. To believe I have something to say that matters.

I write to lend myself to the whole. To sing one more song. To let the shutters bang in the midst of the storm. To heal myself. To bend myself into a pretzel of a paragraph and salt it with adjectives. To stop hating myself. To love what I am and do.

I write to be a manifesto of nothingness. To whip myself into shape. To make it look easier to live than it is. To be read by the one person who is out of touch. To be understood by the firing synapses of a stranger’s brain.

I write to get your attention. To stoke the fires on an unknown camp site. To put things right. To shove the rock up the hill. To batten down the hatches. To prepare for war. To make peace. To toast to survivors everywhere.

I write to speak of nothing in particular. To tell you that I have fought the good fight. I have eaten crow and humble pie. I have run with a stick. I have leaped small buildings in a single bound. I have carried the correct change for any conceivable small purchase. I write of nothing that will survive but love.

It is quiet now. I have banked the fires of words for the evening. The stars are out and the words are dying as they will and should. All that survives is silence.

Vicki Woodyard

To Those Who Need Us The Most

And sometimes I can breathe again
and set everything aright,
this unbreakable knowing that
all is not light that can be classified,
sorted or arranged into reasonable or sane.

And sometimes you can breathe again
and help me know the knowing that
sorrow sometimes disguises as cold
and lonely nights.

And always something is breathing us.
And always something is giving us away
to those who need us the most.

Vicki Woodyard

What Is Beyond Me Sustains Me

What is beyond me sustains me. That is spirituality in a nutshell. This personal
life we all try to improve upon is sustained by what is out of our reach. Why?
Because wholeness is what and who we are. No one has succeeded in outdoing God!

It is only a misguided belief in myself that wrecks the smoothly sailing ship of
What Is.

My ship hit the iceberg of cancer twice. I have tried to improve on my
circumstances for many years. SOS. SOS. Save oneself. Save oneself! We do
that by surrendering to what is. We become buoyant and float on the stream of
surrender.

I have lived most of my life now. The lies have been knocked out from under me
one by one. The pillars of my perfection are weakening. One day I will become
the beyond itself. Perhaps I already am.

Vicki Woodyard

Author, Life With A Hole In It