DEEPLY AWAKE: ENTANGLED By Kathy Vik “Perfect” 9-16-14

DEEPLY AWAKE: ENTANGLED By Kathy Vik

Perfect” 9-16-14

www.kathyvik.com

www.deeplyawake.tumblr.com

www.lightworkers.org/magartha

Twenty nine days since we last talked. It’s the longest I have not posted in nearly three years. It’s a long time to be silent, and I’m just finding my voice now. It has not been a time to speak. I never presume to speak with you when I am in confusion. And it’s not the first time I’ve experienced it, but it was the most prolonged.

I have many friends with whom is shared parallels of experience. These parallels in experience and interpretation are helpful to establish. It removes the “I think I must be crazy” factor, and it validates something that each of us understands is purely a subjective, and subjectively meaningful event or understanding. I am thinking of my facebook friend who posts her beautiful snapshots of her consciousness, recent happenings, and how we have been paralleling again. I smile, wondering what she will think of this essay. It’s good to be back.

Through these recent years, how I get really high up and away, how I get to the pure, pure stuff, it has morphed, the imagery, the speed, the symbols. The abbreviated mediation I had taken to, even that has changed. Instead of having to quiet and conjure pictures of forests, I close my eyes, and I feel it, am at times just taken away with bliss, when I am ready.

Often, I have the thought of a beautiful eye, a sun, a galaxy, an eye, on me, loving me. And often, I have the idea then that everyone has such an eye, trained on them, assisting them with every thought and deed, just like me, completely seen and supported, just like me. I do it in meetings, on the phone, while driving. It sort of comes to me, now, and it’s not the full on bliss I feel, but assurance, steadiness, balance.

About two weeks ago, in meditation, a phrase came to me. It was alive, as was I, feeling every syllable, once again. “I am God’s , and God is Mine.” I began thinking about what happened to me up at the casino. Wondering what it was, and then, remembering what had triggered it.

I remembered that it all started to happen when I was looking at an older woman playing her slots. She was pinched up but seemed nice. I imagined she went home to a husband, a house, some pets. She wasn’t alone. I imagined her relationship, felt into her life, and withdrew. I thought, what I want is for God himself to come down, and to be my everything. My One. I want God to come down here and be with me. I remember, I felt sort of tantrum-y about it, like nothing else would do,and I really deserved it.

I remember, it was at this point, me tapping back into the tantrum-y feel, of why can’t I have that, that I heard, felt, understood and repeated a phrase, over and over. Once it was repeated with enough fervor, everything changed for me, the light came in, I had a talk with something, whatever you want to call it, but how I got there was by understanding, and feeling it in my blood, my brain, my bones, God is mine, and I am God’s, over and over and over.

I know this reverence to be intoxicating.

Two years ago in May, I had a memorable meditation of Jesus, coming and sitting with me, just hanging, and then, he replicated himself, there were maybe twenty of him, around the table, looking at me, smiling, all alive, all real. He explained, I am in everyone. Never forget. When you forget, you are unhappy, because you miss me. I am surrounding you now. Never forget that.

I read that and realize how it sounds, but I have a thing for him, so you just need to let me have that.

The thing was, how do I reconcile that with things that feel less than jesus-y? What do I do then? I see now, there is so much less conflict in my life now than just a year ago. Fewer harsh-feeling things to figure out, fewer battles. Things do feel lighter, and even though I still have problems and disagreements, they are not like they were.

I sense a feeling of safety that I have not experienced before. I find this to be delightful to be experiencing at work. It’s been my experience since the new year began, but it is getting stronger, this sense of safety. I am aware that in my industry, one good mistake is enough to have things come to a screeching halt, but I feel supported and respected, and that is a change. It’s been a long time since I have felt that at the workplace.

What changed? Did “the workplace?” Of course not.

To say I made all this happen is preposterous, on one level, on a personality level. I have chosen to listen to my intuition, and to do the things which feel correct and good. Finding my job, getting involved in the church choir, many things in my life, how I raise my son, spend my time, who I associate with, I have done purely on intuition, following urges, voices, feelings and incongruous thought. Doing those things, that’s the personality stepping aside, being unconcerned about making much sense to anybody.

Diane tells me I scare people, her included, because I embrace change, and it’s something most people are deathly afraid of. I ask her what scares her about it, knowing it to be inevitable, and therefore well worth getting to know. My life is a testament to it. She told me what it’s like for her sometimes, and I listened and didn’t try to talk her out of any of it. She often tells me to slow down. I just have a fast idling speed, I think.

It comes, I think, from deducing very early on that nothing in life is predictable, that everything can turn on a dime, and nothing is forever. I have found little to refute that conclusion. It makes me hungry and restless and impatient and a pain in people’s ass, sometimes. It helps to have friends to tell me to just lighten up. But the thing is, knowing this, really accepting this, it means that I see that every moment is the only one. It matters. It matters to show up in integrity, in honesty, in my heart.

I have lived years ignoring it, disbelieving it, resisting it. But, this thought becomes more and more clear as time passes. This moment, this one, does not come again. It’ll be a different one.

I can remember being a young woman and being floored, some days, when gathered with a particular group of people, doing something meaningful and deep, like working with the old folks, or talking, and I would think, my god, this will never come again. Not like this. This group,this set of circumstances. Everyone thinks this is permanent, that they can rely on it. But we’ll change, we’ll leave, some of us, and things won’t be like this again.

The first time I experienced it, I was bummed for a long time. Just a sense of sadness that I couldn’t shake. I think when there were deaths, it stirred up that awareness, just how once in a lifetime this all is, every day.

It’s this that turned into impatience and a desire to explore. When I couldn’t do that physically, I did it internally. But to keep moving, keep learning, keep doing, this was important to someone like me. Understanding this is it.

But, today, this morning, I had an incongruous thought I want to share. At one point, I curled up, felt for my calves,and said the words. Trying to language it now is more difficult, because nailing down the emotional meaning behind simple words becomes tricky.

I saw my situations, all of them, laid out. And I saw, heard, understood, every single thing is perfect, right now. I argued, said that is simply not so, and yet, it kept coming back, the understanding that everything in front of me is justified in its existence simply because I am aware of it, and everything is perfect as is. I felt complete support, the enduring kind, something irrefutable, a fact of life. Because, this perfection was so obvious. And it was clear that this is perfection not an anomaly, not at all. It is how it has always been. It has been purposeful. All of it. It has been on time.

And from there, my mind turned to the future, and I understood, it just doesn’t matter, if everything is lived here. There is nothing to struggle against. It’s as perfect as this. Everything is perfect.

The corollary to this is something that has been coming though for a bout a month, normally when I am deeply questioning my sanity.

I trust my process.”

That’s a mouthful for me, but I’ll say it again. I trust my process.

But the truth is, I do. I trust myself. There is a giddiness to this, a lift, I trust my process. I like that I often get these thoughts together, the concept that everything is divine, perfect, called to me, cooperative, purposeful and not accidental, no mistakes, none at all, with the idea that I can be trusted. It is true, I start my prayers, “Thank you God for this day. Thank you for loving me so much, and thank you for trusting me so much.”

Thinking these things so freely, and then finding that I am often acting accordingly, is a change that I cannot ascribe purely to psychological healing. I feel that part of my job was to be aware of the energetics as they were occurring, like so many of us. The time line of our community is in time with so many things I did, and how I felt. There has been a change, and the energy that surrounds us is different than it was.

I wrote a very long article on crop circles, but I think I was cloaking what I wanted to say. The three that happened in early September, in two adjacent fields, spoke to me in real time. I saw the first and understood it was a galactic clock, and we were headed into a ribbon of miraculous energy. The second I didn’t speak to me all that much. The third, lying next to the first, shows our consciousness shifts, our other suns, our other realities, where we are now, where we came from, why things feel weird.

I think that crop circles are future us, leading us with giggles and art and geometry and cleverness and perception. It’s just us giving a wink and a nod to us. I wonder if there is high ceremony to it. They are precise, but so fun. I imagine it’s a projection of consciousness, and it’s great fun to do, and prepare for.

So, if everything is as it should be, and everything is by design and agreement, and I can be trusted with what comes before me, then, really, that frees up a lot of time, right?

The thing is, it’s still hard to maintain 24/7.

This is, after all, Earth, and, after all, this is a linear, story driven reality. So there are conflicts. There are resolutions. There are changing characters and enduring ones, and there is a tone, a grander story being told, by each of us, through the choices we make and the words we speak, the expectations we hold and the beliefs we tend.

And maybe that is why I have been silent. How do I reconcile the heights with the depths, and how do I accept that I still have many things left undone and unsaid?

It can be reconciled by knowing that it’s perfect as it is. As it is. What else is there to say, or to know? That I am loved, and I am safe, and everything is ok. What else is there?

I know I will forget, and I will need to be reminded. I will fall again, and I will fear again, and I will cry again, and I’ll then laugh again, and forget my troubles, and move through. I know what I can conjure by myself, left alone. I go places that are sweet, usually, to places inside me that are without limit, without convention, and without explanation. This quiet time has been about moving that silent sun into the world, and laughing as I do it, enjoying myself as I become more human, become more here.

I’ll end by telling you about a change that I very much enjoy.

For years, when I locked my front door to go somewhere, work, the store, anywhere, I felt as if I was locking myself out of warmth, out of safety, and I was going to be banged around, but I’d get through it, and once again, I’d be back home, at this door, unlocking it, where I could heal up.

I’m not feeling as banged up. I still need solitude and silence, but the need is not as profound as it was. I feel healed, during the day, with the places I can go, closing my eyes. And maybe that is the point. It’s in me now, that eye is trained one me, always has been, that sun blazes in my soul, always has, and where I am in physical space is irrelevant, really.

That’s what I am discovering. Perfect as it is, my process is just fine, and it’s inside.

Simple words, simple statements, and it’s taken all this time to speak the words.

I wish you peace. I wish you stillness and that knowing that comes, sometimes first thing in the morning, sometimes late at night, of how absolutely miraculous all of this is, and how safe and fun and perfect. I hope that for you too, today. I look forward to talking to you again. I have missed it.

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