Nonduality Now

My thanks to Victor Zammit for believing in my book. He ran this review in his weekly afterlife report and I sold
more copies there than anywhere else so far! This is what it said:

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED BOOK: LIFE WITH A HOLE IN IT- THAT’S HOW THE LIGHT GETS IN.
Ann Charlote, writes:

“May I recommend Vicki Woodyard’s book, LIFE WITH A HOLE IN IT: That’s How The Light Gets In. It can be bought at nondualitynow.com. [The author's most interesting website]. I don’t have words to describe what I find in her book; it’s like nothing else I have read before.”
THIS BOOK HAS 20 reviews on Amazon.com and they are ALL 5 star.”

You can order it right here on the website by clicking on the image of the book. I also autograph and mail personal copies.

Love,
Vicki

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The next thing is all you can do. Let that sink in. You cannot possibly do the thing after the next thing until you do the next thing. In that sense this is an orderly universe. All you can feel is the next thing. All you can think is the next thing. The secret of the masters is that they did it consciously.

The body may be broken on the rack of cancer, poverty, depression, alcoholism. Fill in the blanks. In some of us there is a yearning for the light, an eternal yearning that will not be denied. It seeps through the cracks of our human condition, this feeling of alienation from both man and God. For God is silence and we haven’t broken that code yet. God doesn’t speak via the rational mind. He waits for it to fall silent. He waits for the exact moment of surrender to happen.

Generally it takes an act of extremity for us to crack open wide enough for a significant amount of light to get in. One must be living “Father, let this cup pass from me.” In my case it was my daughter’s death. To see the still body of a first-grader allowed a great silence to fall onto my being, the shadow of death, the shadow of God’s Hand. How was I to know the difference?

All I could do was the next thing and the next. One foot in front of the other. Was there a larger footfall beside me? It didn’t feel like it. Slowly but surely I begin to live a life without her. Year after year unspooled. Decade after decade decanted its wisdom. My husband, too, left my earthly presence. By then I knew that the next thing was the best thing.

I begin to care for myself like a child. I still do. I woke up early this morning and came in here to write. The next word and the next word. I can’t write them out of order. There is a pattern from which we cannot stray. As they say, on this side it looks like all knots and mistakes. One day this life will be flipped over and the grand design will have been woven. One stitch at a time. That’s how the light gets in. Leonard Cohen was right; that is how the light gets in.

LIFE WITH A HOLE IN IT:That’s How The Light Gets In can be ordered on this website.

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I am learning that we know, on a higher level, exactly what is going on. For some reason, the ego is seldom happy about it. It is the old troublemaker, the one that pushes us through our days, days in which we end up filled with self-doubt, fear and exhaustion. Then suddenly, by grace, someone blows into our consciousness and says “I love you so much” and you KNOW it is the universe speaking through that person. In other words, it isn’t personal.

We are a universe of love; we just aren’t ready to fall into it and die. Resurrection seems to be beside the point to the ego. It is too busy protecting itself from death to remember that life follows death and death follows life and that is how it IS.

Vicki Woodyard

http://www.booklocker.com/books/4931.html

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I have had two fascinating conversations with a man that attended Vernon Howard classes at the same time that Bob and I did. Twenty years have gone by but in the timeless state that is no concern. I get tired of people ranting about that, so I like to give examples. Set the stage: Vernon was alive and well and the classes he taught were electrifying. Everyone there was drawn to that particular space/time continuum. My late husband, Bob, found a copy of one of Vernon’s books. I ordered one of his tapes (yes, it was in the 80’s!) This man had heard of him in his own unique way.

Every year there was a giant yard sale to raise money for the group. One year I flew in from Atlanta and he came in from where he lived. We knew each other only as visitors helping out at the sale. Then Vernon got sick and died. The group split into factions, as it happens after a powerful teacher dies. I went with one group; this man left altogether.

A few days ago I hear from him via an email. He has seen my website and wonders if I am the Vicki he met at the yard sale. “Yes,” was all I had to say and we ended up having a phone conversation. Now this is where it all gets weird if you are still thinking of events as being linear. I had dreamt of my friend David the week before; only in this dream David had a decidedly olive complexion. Then the man called me and I KNEW his was the face in my dream.

We were able to share our memories of what went on there so many years ago. We both feel that everything is already planned on the causal level before it is precipitated down into space/time and earthly meetings. Our friendship was ordained on high. Make no mistake about it. It is platonic; let’s get that out of the way.

There is a reason souls meet down here on the big blue you-know-what (I try to avoid cliches). It is to advance the souls involved, especially if they are already on the path. Then a quick start can be made. We can ask, “Why were we drawn together suddenly. Is it time to reconnect for a reason? Can we have the courage to remain open and let the next step reveal itself?

You see, when God is ordaining what happens, the ego cannot possibly stop it from happening. As my friend John Ramsey said, “The universe is idiot-proofed.” So I am greatly encouraged by the two of us meeting up after so many years. It’s all good. Blessings pressed down and running over when ordained by heaven. All we do is wait. It’s like…well, you know…”buttah.”

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A necessary part of the journey home.

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“This is my life. It belongs to love. This is my love; it belongs to life.”

Yes, those are the words that came to me this morning. Woke up with a slight neck ache. Decided to give myself over to love today. Not trying to work, not trying to get organized, not trying to do anything. Being doesn’t try. Being is what breaks through trying!

Yesterday an old friend from a past life got in touch with me via email. I realized how far I have come. I have journeyed from the intellect to the heart. Now I must trust the journey. I often don’t. I find myself back in my headbone wrasslin’ with the alligators in the swamp of thought.

This old friend said to me simply and honestly that he loved me. His exact words were, “I can say I love you and I am sure you understand.” He allowed me to look into the mirror of myself and see only love. It’s that simple and that rare.

Love is awareness and awareness is love. Never think they are separate. Neither has our name on it, for names and forms melt away in this state. It’s like buttah….

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This is my life. It belongs to love. This is my love; it belongs to life.~Vicki Woodyard

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“Take on a big project, like Noah.” ~Rumi

I have been having an ongoing conversation with a wonderful woman with ovarian cancer. We email daily, both of us sharing the reality of living/having lived with cancer—me as a caregiver, she as a patient/survivor. Our conversations might be called big projects. Why? Because when we talk, we ignore the cancer so as to engage the shamanic qualities of our friendship.

She has recently come to the realization that she is a natural shaman. Her gifts have healed me in small ways, which is what a big project does. Big projects, as I see them, involve living out our unique visions in as many small ways as we can. The small becomes the big. And so we weave emails through our daily lives.

When I had some rooms in my house painted last spring, she dreamed about it. So did I. So when David came to paint, we both “knew” him from our dreams. Oh, not right away, for dreams are always mysterious. The interesting thing is that David recognized me! Within the first half hour we were sitting in silence together. The magic was happening.

I believe that David and I have known each other for lifetimes, so our friendship may be what you call a “big project.” Certainly Betty and I are weaving an email tapestry that is proving to be a beautiful thing. We have both been through the eye of the needle countless times, over and over and over again. She is teaching me to trust myself more and more fully. I am not sure what I am teaching her, but something is being transmitted.

My writing is a big project. It is a daily dose of both being and doing for me. Vitamin E(ssay) kicks off my day. It revitalizes me and shapes my life into an ark. So there I have found the thread weaving these words together.

“The Ark is ready.
The wind is favouring.
The sea is calm.
So taught I Noah.
So I teach you.

God is your captain, sail, my Ark!”
~The Book of Mirdad, Mikhail Naimy

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Thought for the Day:

Accept yourself
so deeply
that you are not afraid to let go
of what is not you.
 
Ivan M. Granger

“I have let go of what is not me. Therefore, I have nothing.” Oh, how I wish I could live up to that statement. Unfortunately, I am like Maxine, a cranky old broad on the spiritual path. “I am that” could be pointing to her! I call the first two months of the year Janu-weary and Febu-ugly. And they can be interchanged—fancy that! Janu-ugly and Febu-weary. In these months I do nothing more than regret what I have just done. For I find myself indulging in eating stale cookies, leftovers of any description and heaps of anything that happens to be called “food.”

Yesterday I had cabin fever. I drug myself to Macy’s and found myself in the Shoe Department. (Remember yourself, always and everywhere, especially in the Shoe Department). The sales clerk was friendly and a blonde woman visiting from Florida and I were both looking at boots. I am not a boot person, frankly, but I get desperate in January. Soon my new friend was telling me how cute such and such a pair of boots were. She bought a pair and left and I found myself buying TWO. Once home, I emerged from the Dream of Boots. I will return them tomorrow.

What does this have to do with spirituality? Nothing. This is exactly what qualifies me to be a spiritual writer. Um hum, you may be saying. She wrote a BOOK about spirituality. Hmmmph. Don’t guess I’ll read that! I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t read it either. I don’t care how spiritual you are, women should never wander in the shoe department because they are bored. For you true spiritual students reading this, I will throw you a crumb. Vernon Howard had a reason for calling it the Malicious Mall. Now leave me alone or I will throw a boot at you! And another one to boot

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