... as we travel again between life and death, Waking and dream, blinking, while layers within layers, None better, none worse, unravel and knit up before us. . .

— Jay Woodman

At work, or anywhere in life, people should be a team, working for the best of all, not protecting individual egos.

— Jay Woodman

Be confident to make your magic.

— Jay Woodman

Be honest with yourself, face your feelings and what they really mean, then you will be able to deal with them and move on.

— Jay Woodman

Being here to witness the beauty, to learn, to be astonished, to love - is enough. Being able to create in addition is a delightful honor.

— Jay Woodman

Be still and know you are loved –Feel the arms of the universe Rocking you to its steady hum.

— Jay Woodman

Be the calm eye of the storm where nothing phases you, focus on your center to remain balanced, let your life flow like a stream of wind

— Jay Woodman

Breathe in that vital connection to the life source and sensual beauty everywhere. Feel loved and strong.

— Jay Woodman

Breath (from the book Blue Bridge)Whispering to myself With every step I take, Trying out names, for I know There is something yet to be called ….. I know it, something up ahead Just around the vendor over the rise – A bird taking to the sky From the edge of a jagged cliff – A bird floating outwards In silence ……. A silence Waiting for a footstep To crunch on stones, For a voice to fling upward Through sharp sunlight With a name…… calling Before the bird could call Before the bird called.Oh, the bird was there alright And sure it took flight When it heard me approach But it broke my herewith a mighty croak! So I’m sitting here playing With a purple flower Slender stem, no leaves Purple fizz –And it’s quiet again. I am still am nothing And the hills a long, long slope Down, down, down to the sea Far below. I could roll I could run could scream But I am nothing. A cool wind blows And the light is naked and nameless And the rocks are faces of angels And the bird in the sky wheels And cries to forget the earth And its ancient bones –Oh, sensual pain – Wings…. Wings…. Wings, Singing wings. If only I could begin To describe the emptiness Which fills me to the brim With new breath might almost lose my name And take instead a feather for my soul.

— Jay Woodman

Can we be clear about who we are, what we want? Can we be fully present in our truth, and communicate that? Can we understand each other?

— Jay Woodman