DEEPLY AWAKE By Kathy Vik
In less than three hours I’ll be up in Boulder again, so this will be a short one, but, I am urged to write to you now, in the stillness of this Sunday morning.
And because I do not have time to fashion the sort of intricate letters this ongoing experience will no doubt produce later, because I am pressed for “time,” and because I have had four false starts to this thing, all of these things tell me that it’s time to cur the crap and be honest. So, here goes.
I am attending a three day event up in Boulder, this the second of two days with Lee Carroll and Kryon. Gregg Braden is the featured speaker. Yesterday I got to shake his hand and tell him that he’s a rock star in my world.
I milled around the lobby during breaks, and vaguely considered that there might actually be two or three of my readers int his group. It’s possible. But, I felt that rock star vibe, the vibe of being a leader just because of how I do, and it made the anonymity less foul.
Driving to the event, I put out runners, saw and felt energetic ribbons, going to where I would be parking, and walking, and sitting. I asked for the energy to be set, that the event be blessed with gentleness and creativity, and, I asked for my friends to show up, but most especially, I asked that Jesus show up. I have missed him, and it’s time.
Gregg did a two hour lecture on the Shroud of Turin. He meticulously led us to the punch line. Just like the Moai, the pyramids, the caves in Turkey, the shroud stands there, glittering, winking, saying, ok, you’re clever. Figure it out.
In essence, the science proves conclusively that the only way that image could have been made as it was, would be if the body passed THROUGH the cloth.
I sat there and smiled. You cheeky guy. That was quite a trick. But I could see and feel the light, the burst, the change. I understood before the punch line had been delivered, saw it, felt it. Of course. Oh, of course. He did it. It’s my goal, my hope, my highest aspiration, to do that. It’s what I think ascension is. And he gave us evidence it is not a fairy tale, not a freaking metaphor, but a biological variant, possibility, inevitability. To blast through, the embody light. Able to then holographic ally project, but of light. Hard to explain, but, I think, in the end, it’s what ascension is. And his broken body did it. Ha!
Breakthrough after breakthrough, celebration and confirmations throughout the day, giggling and quietly clapping from time to time, I had an excellent day. I hope each of us did. It is a special time for us as individuals, and as a tribe, a family, a purposeful group.
You see, many in that conference room came alone. They went home to their families, as did I, and, like me, they were not asked about the content of the day’s lectures. They were not congratulated for finding a little pocket of home. Neither were they encouraged to continue, and maybe some of them, like me, have to make concessions with their loved ones to complete the three days of attendance.
And it just doesn’t matter, really.
What matters is that, for these precious hours, we are gathered together, our ancient family waking, and although we as human beings in 2015 still have to function within the social contracts at hand, I see us all wearing other garb, old friends with a common purpose, our signatures blending as a family of light, and our souls quiet, still, as we spend time together now, unbelievably, against all odds.
That’s the thing, you see. I was struck with it again and again yesterday. These things that drove me, made me seek. Lee talked about his own process when he enthusiastically discussed his trip to Rapa Nui (Easter Island). He said, Kryon would give him clues, and then, he went on quests. I had not known that Lee had this experience. It got me thinking, maybe that’s what has driven so many of us. I know it’s true for me.
My readers know by now, I have done none of this alone. I have had help, lots of it, and the kind that has been my favorite has been the disembodied type. Sometimes just a word whispered in my ear that I have to look up. Sometimes a thought or an image I cannot shake, that makes me, compels me to research. But, I feel I have been fed lines almost, stair steps of awareness and understanding, as my process has unfolded. And there is lee, telling us that Kryon would spark him to go on quests, research things and confirm things.
As Gregg concluded his talk, the last photo he showed us is the composite of the man in the shroud. Rendered from the holographic information in the cloth, the face hung in the air, looking at us, loving us.
Oh, my friend, oh, my love. There you are. I have missed you. Thank you for being here and blessing all of us as you do just by your presence.
That face. But, more, that energy. The room changed as the image glowed. Gregg said he showed the photo to a group with perhaps less training, and a man in the front row looked at it, and keeled over. It is a powerful image. A living image. A loving image.
Next to his face, four words dropped down, the gospel of Jesus Christ. Love. Peace. Compassion. Forgiveness.
Love. Peace. Compassion. Forgiveness.
The channel was intense, and I was ready. I am looking forward to hearing the recording, because there is much that was given in those thirty minutes, but what I take from it and give to you this day is Kryon’s admonition, three times I think he said it, that our job now is to not be weird. And to learn, to embody, compassionate action.
Upon waking this morning, I considered the weird. I have been noticing it morphing, and its definition expanding.
This morning, I had a thought, about the weird, though, and maybe this is what I need to say, and then I will get dressed and go.
I have knowledge, not beliefs but, for me, knowledge, that is expanding, but that has always been expansive, floridly creative, and spiritually based. I know my god is real, that my god is love, and infinite, and within my cellular structure. I know I am unending, and I know I have been in incarnations, uncountable, uncountable, as they stretch from one planet to another, one project to another, one ascension to another.
I was given clues. I had itches in my brainpan, and I had to have relief. The more I learned, the more confirmation I had, the better I felt.
So, being weird, that was part of the gig, you see? I was able to connect with bigger things that, to me, felt real, but, in the beginning, in the 70’s and 80’s, the clues were crude, the information as rough as my consciousness’s abilities.
At the beginning of 12, I got an image about this new energy, this new reality we were all being invited to play with. I imagined a child, a two year old, all slobbery and goofy smiles and babbling, handed a big, bright silver ball. And this silver ball contained the treasures of the galaxy, every mystery solved, every pain soothed, and there I was, inarticulate, leaving spit marks on it as I gnawed on it and banged it on the floor, unable to break it and unable to get it to work, because I did not fully understand its gifts, and because I was not mature enough to slow my roll, or use my hands very well.
I think that ball opened up and began to blossom yesterday. I have matured.
But, more than that, I now own my story. Something about being with others, and knowing that they, as do I, believe, or, no, they know, as do I , that this is the time that we have been waiting for, because this is the time we have been waiting for.
In isolation, holding this knowledge made me weird. In a group of others who take for granted they are Pleadian, Lemurian, ancient, founders, leaders, mystics, touched, we’re a bunch of normal people.
And there is strength and power in this.
It eases the isolation and separation that this experiment has exhausted. And it makes focusing on the weird much less natural.
I think this idea of the weird has been important to many of us, because it is just one way to articulate that we are indeed different.
Kryon said in last weekend’s channel, consider that you have had a thousand lifetimes of lessons, pain and sweetness, trials and difficulties. It has not been easy holding a high vibration here. That’s sort of been the point. So, imagine you know this, and are aware, or becoming aware, of your star lineage.
And then, imagine someone who is on their fifth lifetime. The newer incarnation is going to have less of that texture and depth, perhaps, and may not know how to do things that you find easy.
Well, I think that’s a big part of all this. I am not sure about the soul age stuff, less convinced of it all the time, but I think that is a function of the energetics we are in now. I think each human has access to all of it, 100% of it, and that maybe a soul’s age is just a metaphor for how wide open their receiver is, but, I don’t know. I’m not sure.
It does point out an area of separation, because differences have done that to us, we have let them do that to us.
But now, as things soften, and we relax as a group, as we begin to really really believe that the heaviness is done, the dark is dying, and something we remember is here, something good, and deeply satisfying bubbles up from the ground and pours down from the cosmos, it matters less and less, the differences, the training, the way in which a soul has progressed.
It bothers me, that the measure of greatness in our tribe is compassionate action. Only because, I still doubt myself, worry that I protect myself too much, fret that I have found ways to argue with and punch compassionate action in the nose. I find myself acting discompassionately, reflect on how I could do better. It’s a constant thing with me. Always has been.
But I see it, all around me, and will end with this.
I like shifting people.
I do, I admit it. I know I have the ability, and I enjoy doing it. I learned how in 12, but it would surprise me, and sometimes, It scared me.
Through these years I have learned how good it feels, and how easy it is. And maybe that’s why I l like being a nurse. It’s the one place where I get compensated for shifting it. For being in stone cold love with who is in front of me.
Gregg discussed it, yesterday. There was a study done which demonstrated that, when healing, the body emits pulses of energy, and, when healing, the body takes in pulses of energy. The study was done not with swamis in India, levitating and living off of thistles. It was done on nurses, who were touching their patients.
I sat there stunned. My whole body heats up now, and I feel sometimes like a generator, and it feels so good, so good, to love like that.
But, I see now that this sort of love, I feel it a lot more, with a lot more people. I like the sick, because they let me shift it, they want me to.
But I remember the first time it happened around the dinner table. We were at a Chinese restaurant, and there was a big gathering of our family. The energy was discordant, fussy, tight, at firs, and then, I felt myself going into my heart. I thought things that were so true, and so heartbreakingly lovely, and then, it’s like this nice, golden spin came on us, or at least me. The rest of the meal was spent in such accord.
And I have, by now, seen this again and again in my life, daily, really. I think that’s been part of this last lesson. How to do it without even calling it to me. Just loving.
And so, I think sometimes that compassionate action is a little too hard for me. It sets up right and wrong, better and worse, and I don’t think I like that. I like loving.
So, ok, this is the last part.
Two days ago, late in the day, after a day of problems and solutions, tasks needed and done, I got a phone call from the office. And I noticed that my firs thought was, uh oh, they are calling to tell me I have done something else wrong. And I caught myself, said, oh stop it, you silly girl. They love you, and you love them.
I answered, and found I was being asked to go to a home to hold a presence for a family making a very hard decision. They said they called me because they wanted to extend a loving presence.
And my response I share with you to close, I guess, because I want to celebrate that this is how I am now, I want to state it and giggle about it because it is so pretty and delightful and solid.
I said, oh, well, loving is what I love best, and I would love to do that. But I have two more people today I’ve promised to take of, so, although I’d like to, I have to pass.
We parted, and I swung my car through the slingshot of the mousetrap in Denver, headed North.
A loving presence. It is my favorite thing. That I am receiving as I am giving, well, I never really got that, before Gregg explained it, pointing out the research. As we give, we receive. Huh. It explains wanting more of it, and the feel of it is so good, so right, that it can’t be questioned. Not really.
In that state, which I would like to be in all the time, it seems to me that compassionate action must naturally flow. I think it is more about not questioning the feeling, not grading or judging the behavior which springs from so beautiful a state.
But, here’s the thing.
I know of grace. I know what it is to be forgiven. I know how it feels to be held in absolute love, true soul compassion. I know what that feels like now. I have felt it, and it’s the best of all.
Could it be that compassionate action is just what naturally flows from us when we stop doubting the feeling we find we need more of? Could it be that all things that come from such love are blessed, just as a matter of course? I’m just now beginning to imagine that trusting this state makes solid sense, since it is an area of awareness, of being, that is incompatible with harmful intent.
Skillfulness of interaction, ahh, there’s the rub, but also the fun and frolic that comes with human endeavors. Resonance, and skillfulness, forgiveness and compassion, peace and love. Simple thoughts. Guiding thoughts. Sometimes nothing but whispers, odd clues, disjointed thoughts and memories.
But, you see, now, having been a an open and willing and grateful recipient of personalized compassionate action, having been taught up close what it feels like, it[‘s what I want to give, and it’s where I want to go. I get hung up in the details, and so, I am ready to just shrug and let myself love as I do, counting on it being mutual. It can be done face to face. I can feel it for my waiter, I can do it at table, at the bedside, in a shopping mall. But truly, it happens one person at a time, one interaction at a time, and it is as addictive as the horror and fear and sadness once was.
And so, I have twenty minutes to publish, so that I can again be bathed in teaching that serve as welcomed friends. I feel with these meetings as I feel when I read an article, or listen to a channeled recording, or go to a reading, or listen to my guidance, that I am being reminded, by agreement, of stuff that I hid from myself, because it just was not time yet.
And that is the thing. Sitting in the room at the end of the day, dark, everyone exiting silently when they felt complete, I stayed, and I doubled over for a few seconds, weeping quietly, knowing I was finally home, it is finally time. That everything the teachers told me led me here. That being on the crooked, lonely path was purposeful, and leads me to this moment, when I know I did not lead myself astray. That I can be trusted. That I can relax.
This is our time.