“Tricksters bring in the opposite and break the stalemate.” Robert Johnson

Larry rides a stick pony. Let’s face it—Larry is a loser. But so is Vicki. Swami came to live with her anyway. He has stuck it out far longer than I ever thought he could or would. They have grown to look alike but one doesn’t look any more alike than the other. There are some remarkable distinctions, however.

Vicki doesn’t wear bedsheets, ever.
Vicki doesn’t hang out in the Sleep Department at Macy’s
Vicki knows the difference between the real and the unreal.

Swami wears bedsheets often.
Swami hangs out at Macy’s.
Swami doesn’t know the difference between the real and the unreal. (This is what makes him a swami. He really doesn’t know that he is typed into existence and typed right out again. He doesn’t know that when my hard drive crashed I lost a good part of his life. He can’t get it back and yet he doesn’t know or care. He keeps on truckin’….)

Vicki sometimes sits at the keyboard, having eaten 3 Fun-Sized Three Musketeers and 3 Tootsie Roll Midgees, with nothing better to do than write about a little fake guru. Swami Z can do nothing about it, even though he knows that she doesn’t need to be doing that.

Vicki has been advised that once she lets Swami leap out of the book, her life will change. All she can do is nervously crave 3 more Fun-Sized Three Musketeers.

Synchronicity reigns (rains). I was listening to an online radio show, Conversations with Avant-Garde Sages, and the interviewee was talking about Ramana Maharshi. So the phone rings and it is a woman who read my book, Life with a Hole in It, last December. She wanted to tell me about a synchronicity. When she opened my book, it fell open to an essay in which I mention Ramana and she loves him and keeps his picture in her kitchen. She felt that was a huge synchronicity.

I told her that I didn’t want to answer the phone when she called because I was listening to the interview in which Ramana Marharshi was mentioned. That is like synchronicity cubed!

Also, this woman mentions she is a chanter. Small world. I told her about meeting David Newman (Durga Das) and how lovely that was. I’ve played his new CD, Stars, twice. I feel that grace is all around me.

Could it be that grace has been there all along? Ask Ramana!

I have just sat in front of the TV for hours watching Alfie Boe in Les Miz. I have already seen this several times. I will see it again and be mesmerized by his performance. Never mind that Hugh Jackman will play his part in the movie. Give me some mo’ Boe!

Le Miz is one of those shows that goes on and on and on. It feels interminable; I am not interested in seeing it in the theater. I can just sit on the couch and enjoy every moment without having to sit in a cramped seat and trudge back and forth to the crowded restroom.

Life is like a long musical. There have been times when I took center stage and sang my heart out. I had the crowd with me. They applauded and I bowed, lifting my hand to the balconies. At other times I slunk offstage, the critics panning me soundly the next morning. (All of this took place in my head.)

The “willing suspension of disbelief” is something usually applied to a work of fiction; I believe our lives are the same way. Otherwise we could not get through them. We must believe that they are real or we wouldn’t bring our best acting chops to the roles we are given to play.

I really believe I lost a child. I cry for her. I really believe my husband died around Christmas in 2004. I mourned him like it was real. But here I am, an actor in a play, just like Alfie Boe. Why can’t I applaud my performance just as much as I do his?

I have gotten many views of the photo I posted on Facebook of my son and I. That is because I have shown us to the audience as if we were real. We were at the cemetery that day but something in the photo says that is just another scene in the play. We are looking clearly into the eye of the camera and into the eye of God.

“This book is oozing with cute and I hate cute.” Swami Z.

“I am in the book sitting right next to Jim.” Rose

“I am the one wearing a clip-on tie.” Jim

“Vicki has gone and written an expose and I for one am uncomfortable with that.” Larry.

“Bite me.” Ruin

“This book was made in America by me.” Vicki

“Someone needs to investigate Vicki Woodyard. She may be carrying contraband weapons of mass instruction.” The CYA

*The book won’t be out for a while yet. In the meantime, feel free to realize yourself and move about the cabin freely. I know I am.
Vicki Woodyard

Copies of Vicki’s first book, LIFE WITH A HOLE IN It, are available on amazon.com.

I am knee-deep in editing A Guru In The Guest Room. Oh, I know. I have said that more than once. The perfectionist in me is at war with my aching shoulders and furrowed brow. This may not be the week to give up Facebook and chocolate. I feel like the character in Airplane. You see, I turned in what I thought was the final version. No, I just thought it was. Suddenly error was not just a word in the dictionary. It is my middle name. Oy.

I have some beef in the crockpot and a crick in my neck. One day I will “have written.” Right now I am editing and there is a whale of a difference. I can’t walk and chew gum at the same time. Now I have way too many windows open on my desktop and my mental fan is blowing papers all over the place.

This note makes no sense. Neither does my manuscript. Swami Z has taken a powder. Of course he would. He is one little wise man.

I have been working on A Guru in the Guest Room for a long time. It was conceived of about ten years ago and now I realize that the character, Swami Z, is an invaluable resource for me. He is only a character, to be sure, but he always has something new to teach me. I have but to look in his direction and he is there.

This morning I finally got up the nerve to delete three essays from the book. It was the right thing to do. I had plenty of material and there could possibly be a second book down the road. Now it feels like time to get it into print. Here’s hoping that the gods are on my side in this wish.

I just had a peanut butter and honey sandwich on whole grain Italian bread. I am going to cut way back on sugar now that the book is finished. My annual doctor visit looms and I want my blood work to be good. I feel so peaceful about everything that I am in a good place to focus on healthier eating.

Tonight my son and I are going to eat Mexican. As for Swami Z, he says si, si. (The little swami is getting ready for the bigtime.) If he does the Mexican Hat Dance, he could get lost in it, so I will leave him at home.