I was talking to a friend on Facebook and realized that my reply to her was turning into an essay. But guess what? I forgot to save it and so I start all over again in learning humility.

Aging takes a lot of time. (I like that line a lot.) You can’t rush it or control it. It is what it is and you are what you are.

You know that you don’t know. And the list of “Don’t Knows” is getting longer.

Don’t know jack. Don’t know shit. Don’t know how to fill out papers anymore, etc.

Do know where to draw the line. Well, except when it is with an eyebrow pencil and shaky hands.

Do know how lonely it is on this crowded old merry-go-round called “incarnation.”
How does it work, anyway? I picture a new baby queuing up in a line to be born. It is slapped and then it screams like hell and the new mother feels like it!

Time goes on, sometimes fast and sometimes slow. You dislike your body and you try to change it a bit. Slimmer, stronger, more appealing, etc. Don’t know jack about it.

The Giving Up Days have now begun in dead earnest. And as my mother always added, “Poor dead Earnest.”

I look in the mirror. I have the inherited droopy eyelids of a Bassett Hound. I am still at a good weight but the distribution of fat is all wrong.

I have been a spiritual writer for decades now and a long-time student of The Work. What the Work teaches you is that everything just happens as a gift to you. All of your suffering is grist for the mill. No, not the pepper mill, you dope (mumbling that to myself.)

So come sit beside me in cyberspace, where there are no crumbs on the floor, but conspiracy theories spread like wildfire. (And so does my belly—spread like wildfire. Enabled by a box of chocolate donuts and all the time in the world.)

Time is no longer a burden on you, although you still put on a wristwatch, which is useless to a younger generation. You are easily made to feel guilty because you have left the world to its own devices. There are no more attempts to fit in. Good thing that life is not a jigsaw puzzle and that forgetting stuff comes with the territory.

I am done with my screed. Or am I?

P.S. The photo is of a friend’s living room. I really like it.

I Didn’t Sleep a Wink

I didn’t sleep a wink last night and that showed me that the neuropathy “burn” is in my arms and legs now. Of course I am dismayed.

As I lay there around five a.m. I begin to have a lot of insights that I wouldn’t have had otherwise.

The phrase “rooted and grounded in our being” was one of them. I understand what this means now. I suppose it is different for everyone, but for me, it means faithfulness to what in me is real.

Vernon Howard was a true teacher and therefore, he “rooted out” the falseness in us by his sternness. What was left was exhaustion and despair. All of his students underwent the same strip down. He took our vanity and our false hopes that we could “get it.” None of us did.

You see, truth does the impossible. “My kingdom is not of this world.”

Truth crucifies the ego, but it is a slow and painful death for most. We like to think that we can have it both ways, but we can’t.

Awakening is about loss and how you respond to it.

Vernon saw to it that our pockets were turned inside out. He robbed us—not of our money, but of our paper-thin defenses.

I try to mirror that when I write these essays.

If you are responding to what I write, please make a quarterly donation; I feel that is a fair thing to ask. Self-respect demands that I ask.

Vicki Woodyard

paypal.com/paypalme/vickiwoodyard

Papa Jeff Belyea and I communicating via my blog. For those of you who didn’t know Jeff, he died suddenly at the age of 70 and left all of us weeping. The artwork is “Bird of Paradise” by Jeff Belyea

This humor was between Jeff and I on my old blog. I am no longer sure who said what to whom, but apparently he was playing the role of someone in Customer Service, which will be able to track us all the way to hell and back. Enjoy!

“Jeff: OK. Troot is, I’m from Brooklyn and we use this rouse to con youse outta your smack. How’s that for a mocha twist, sis? Which, speaking of dough, BTFW, you had enough to pick up an iMac I hear trough the grapevine. Good you youse.

Vicki: If this is your idea of pleasure, perhaps you should book a cruise to Siberia and enjoy cavorting there naked in the snow and later follow that up with a massage by a local bear. Put that in your ISP and smoke it, Kumar. The bliss of being your friend is only exceeded by the torture of knowing you don’t understand a word I say, idiomatically speaking. And yet you ARE an idiomath on some level in a world where friendliness is only surpassed by idiocy. Ciao, Kumar. Enjoy your chai. Btw, may I call you my Customer Service Fiend?

Jeff: Also, I am cavorting with laughter. Most regrettably, my bliss burst came at a most unfortunate time, as my lips were happily engaged in the consumption of Chai tea. The spray badly soaked my keyboard, precipitating a hard drive nose dive crash. Sadly, not only were your files lost, the most extravagant cost of repairs will be added to your charges. I am most pleased to be your customer service friend.”

There is more of this mystical silliness to be shared….

Dear Readers,

“It’s a time for setting some rules and boundaries for yourself and enjoying the feeling that by structuring your life, you’re moving forward. Orderliness has become an empowering state for you, and paying closer attention to deadlines, details, and rules can be challenging but rewarding. Your dreams become more realizable and within reach.” ~From a daily horoscope for Scorpio

I had my second day in a row of frustration and anger and then, as my friend Tami, tells me,
“Wait for the shift.”

The shift was that I went back to my WordPress site, feeling that, as usual, I would not be able to fix the problem. I looked over to the left column and there it was, I can tick the box to Read Comments when people leave them! Oh, frabjous day, coulee coulee. That is from The Jabberwocky, and I misspelled the last two words.

I am now feeling how important your comments are, how they buoy me up during difficult days. I need you the reader to be able to comment on what I write. Readers make me a better writer. If you are among the people that made comments, I think I can actually read and approve the comments now. I am grateful that someone made me aware of the problem.

I feel a real sense of connection with my readers and my appreciation and affection for you is deep. I just didn’t know that you were commenting and I was not reading them. I feel like a kid at Christmas or Sally Field saying, “You like me, you really, really like me.”

P.S.
You can also reach me via my email, vw9633@gmail.com

The spiritual life is forged in the fires of failure, dismay and downright self-righteousness. We can all be assholes, even nuns and priests.

I have written about my sorrow; tonight I am writing about my anger. It is a real thing.

Too long we have sought peace and never found it to be a lasting situation.

I am old now and have two separate nerve conditions, as you all know.

I just can’t stand a lot of pressure.

But tonight I blew up and there are probably pieces of me on the ceiling.

Nothing is easy; everything takes place on the hell of this earth we call home.

Our politicians have wrecked the country and it is going to get worse.

I have known sorrow but have never written about how Scorpios have a menacing side; well, they do. At some point we stand up and roar.

I just want you to know that my writing comes from the depths of hell and every now and then, something in me goes berserk on the emotional level.

I feel better now. You know you have been in just this situation many times over and you just have to ride out the storm.

I am fine now that I have vented my spleen. I remain a spiritual student, just temporarily having forgotten how complicated life on earth is.

Vicki Woodyard

Dear One

I was just sitting quietly in a chair with a book in my lap and I shall open a page at random to quote from:

“Our mindset is the jailer and our world-view is the jail. But you can’t break out of this prison by attacking them directly. In fact you don’t need to attack them at all; just be aware of them and continue to observe them. Simple attention is the way to reality, freedom and rest. Under continual observation your illusions will expose themselves and simply dissolve away like the Wicked Witch of the West.”

From “What I am” by Galen Sharp.

Love and thanks, (for a donation)
Vicki

“It is my pleasure Vicki. I feel gratitude for your presence, friendship and for what you generously share with everyone. Your words have great power and often are just what I needed to see. Like this random quote you opened up to.

I pray Rob can have his successful surgery and put this chapter behind him. Loving embrace for you both. We are all one and when I feel that my heart aches with compassion and love.

Vicki: Be a love bug and let me share my letter to you and yours to me. Together they constitute an essay (and I am lazy.) I will not even use your initials!

“You can use whatever and do whatever Vicki.”

P.S. Someone told me that the Comments part of my website is broken. That is a shame and I do not know how to fix it. This was from an email. So I am flying blind on a dark and stormy night as far as my website is concerned. Few readers these days; most comments are on Facebook.

Love,
Vicki

I have been engaged with truth with a capital “T” for a lifetime now. I had no choice in this; I seemed to be given a chance to grow if I studied myself and my reactions all the time.

Of course, I missed the mark, but to this day, I keep on trying.

Here is what I know. It is not what happens to me; it is how I remain aware as much as I can all of the time.

Truth is a holy thing, but you must learn to love it instead of your own reactions to life.

Failure is a gift and a promise. “Admit you are failing and I will lead you out of despair and into light.”

Above the level of despairing over your problems lies your ability to be humble before God.

That is a nutshell teaching.

Vicki Woodyard

Dear Friends,

Rob has now recuperated from his incomplete surgery earlier this month. The next attempt at removing the kidney stone will be in May. Meanwhile I had a hearing test and asked the doctor if he knew of anything that would help a vocal tremor. I had read that sometimes botox injections were used and he confirmed that. When I got home, I googled that to find out how the injections are administered. They give a shot into the neck where the voice box is. Ugh! Still, I may get frustrated enough to let them try.

Other than that, I stay nervous these days. I feel a lot of pressure about Rob’s surgery, praying it will succeed this time. I know he is fearful about it, since the first attempt at running a wire/tube
into the correct place in his kidney failed.

I have hardly noticed spring, since I feel the pressure of staying organized.

I have said nothing spiritual in this note. I am too familiar with what I should say but don’t say and what I shouldn’t say and say anyway.

Scorpios tell it like it is and my Virgo ascendant renders me a perfectionist. But I am older now and everything does not happen on time anymore.

Ramana has said that effort is bondage and I am chained to my sense of duty. Things never work out as planned and I place awakening in that category.

I have spent the greater part of a lifetime delving deep into esoteric teachings. Some of them have stuck and many haven’t. It’s like throwing darts into a Peeps.

I ask myself what the most important thing in my day is and I wait for the answer, as it has not become clear yet. Perhaps it is to go easy on myself. The Bible doesn’t say “Go easy on thyself,” but maybe I will write my own scriptures. Giggle.

Vicki Woodyard