DEEPLY AWAKE By Kathy Vik “Field Report” 4-2-15

DEEPLY AWAKE By Kathy Vik

Field Report” 4-2-15

www.kathyvik.com

www.deeplyawake.tumblr.com

www.lightworkers.org/magartha

So, just a little time has been carved out, something I have come to look forward to, with the gentle swinging of reality, Monday to Monday.

Lately, there have been odd and wonderful things happening inside me, and I need to let you know about it, now, because, well, I had to road test it a bit. When there is a shift, or a change, I know about it, but until I test it out a little, I don’t necessarily rely on the lightening to keep striking in the same spot. But, it is, so I want to say a few words.

First, it has been, usually, my left ear that sings to me, but, the last couple of days, the noise and pressure has been in my right. Nice, the sound is, and the sensation is very pleasurable, actually. I do not feel the physical aloneness that is the human condition quite so acutely, when my ear is doing that. I feel comforted and strangely, truly, visited. It is not all the time, have not had that for a few hours, but I like it when it happens.

When I hear noises and high pitched stuff in my ears, in my head, I feel happy, because I feel as if I am being talked to in a language I don’t recognize. I feel communicated with, taken care of and ministered to. But, that’s just me.

It’s not really ear issues I want to parse.

For the last several weeks, but now, it’s happening almost daily, there will come a moment in the day, sometimes several times a day, when I am stopped at a light, or just driving, or doing something mundane, and, well, it’s the funniest thing.

I am filled, sometimes, with giddiness. I mean, something shifts and I become very aware of joy. I giggle. Literally, I just sit and giggle sometimes. I indulge. I am reluctant to stop. Sheer joy, anticipation, glee, all of these happy, shiny feelings blaze within, and I just roam the streets of Denver, giggling.

Of course, I have a theory about this.

I think that this is the natural state.

When all is said and done, when the shit gets picked through, when the crying has stopped and the depression finally begins to look and feel strangely maudlin and entirely optional, and all the stories I tell myself about how fucked my life, my personality and my future is, they sort of burn off, thankfully, like strips of paper next to a flame.

And this giddiness, this free, simple, abundant giddiness bubbles up and I giggle… when I feel like that, it is in a contained, personal, quiet place, and not in company. Usually. And if in company, I can actually maintain my composure. The happiness sits in my chest and glows, burns, feels good, warm and happy, and I smile more easily, listen more readily, speak less impulsively, more mindfully.

And that’s sort of where I want to go with this.

That’s the jewel in the crown, winking at me.

This morning, I thought it wonderful I lucked into a few minutes in which I could write. And then, I immediately had all these anxiety feelings. I felt tightness in my chest and I felt a hard, weird feeling. I considered that it might not be advisable to indulge. I might “get into trouble.” I considered myself not free to express this until the “proper” time.

And I realised, this impulse thing, which impulse to follow, which decision to make, even the teeny tiny ones are big sometimes, it feels, this indeed has been an issue for me for over twenty years. This morning I wrestled, sitting quietly at the side of my bed, with the notion that I should not write. I should do as I should do. As I should do.

And this push and pull, this self doubt machine, this engine of decision making, it is something to spend a little time on, I think, because, if it has given me trouble all this time, maybe it’s hard for others, and, lately, I have had great great help, and so, that is important to pass along to you too.

I decided, as I reached for my little net book yet again, that this having an impulse business needs to be talked about. It is central, I think, to reality construction.

I live intuitively, and do not like to do things if there is not synchronicity associated with a thing. Even my appointments, day to day, have this odd sensation to them, usually. The timing is so perfect. Sometimes I cannot understand why I am compelled to do as I do, but I do as I am compelled, and always, I wind up being right on time. I can’t count how many times people have remarked to me that the timing was divine.

The last three weeks, the timing, the engine, it has been off, at work. It has been idling rough, and feeling bad. Real bad. And I know I am creating or contributing to this, and I have been trying to figure out how to stop it, but have not been able to.

And so, this morning, I realise a few things, and so, we have two stops until I can leave you.

The stops include the inner guidance system that I’m now aware of, and then, how everything is interconnected in a really nicely odd way.

So, this guidance system. Knowing when to do what. It is nice to just know what to attend to and obey in the way of impulses, and which ones are best to ignore. I mean, that’s a big part of being human, isn’t it? Just because you have the impulse does not mean you need to act on the impulse, right? So, all day long, thoughts come, thoughts go, impulses arise, they recede. Ideas to do this, say that, go there, find this.

And what a person is, how they present, how their daily life, and, by extension, their life, goes, is that not just an amalgam of their yes’s, their approved and chosen impulse package?

I don’t know. But I do know that I listen to what is inside me, and through the years, it has changed dramatically.

Now, what is happening now, this is what matters to me, because it has changed.

In the beginning, way back in the 90’s, I started working with this. Trying to winnow out, what am I listening to, what am I obeying, and why am I doing, saying, wanting, moving toward, what I am? What is the proper, correct, best thing to do, and what is not? What is in alignment to my highest good? That was always the question. It became second nature, working with The Teachers, and how, week to week, we worked, reviewing how things were going, trying my best to live in integrity with myself.

I can see now that , at the time, this was important work, because it was really hard to hear. Muffled. Easily misunderstood. The energy was denser, the ability to completely miss a pint very very strong, and my own patterned bullshit was so strong, it hardly let in any light sometimes.

And, through the years, with great devotion, practice, willingness, I have listened, I have gotten used to the guidance, and now, it seems to be so much louder. It’s really, really loud.

It is uncanny. The last, oh, I’d say three or four days, maybe longer. Strains of it earlier, certainly, but nothing like the last few days.

I am hearing with my body. I am getting good ideas. Really good ideas. Not about books or healing methods or whatever. I mean, guidance. How to manage this moment. What to think about this or that. And these thoughts, they are marvelous. They are big, roomy, loving, compassionate, funny.

I am told, as I am driving away from the house, do not despair. Look up. And then, it starts, as I am driving, the dictation. Maybe that is what this is, just dictation, but, it feels immediate. In real time. Loving, applicable, calming thoughts that I know to be trustworthy, because they help me breathe deeper and I feel physical relief and joy. It is immediate, though. I think the best word is applicable.

And they are grand and big and true thoughts, the kind I usually pay cash money for. The good stuff, pure and loving and angelic, even. Trustworthy.

So, I have found, this week, which has been a troubled and rocky one in many ways, I have found it to be a happy one, and easy one, and this is so counter-intuitive. I think maybe, in the end, that is what made me come to you now and write in light, on this piece of electronic awesomeness, allowing the flow of my day to include this wonderful time with you.

I am aware my thoughts may appear disjointed, and I am also aware there is a change in the timbre of this voice, but, it feels good, and I am on the home stretch now. I want to tell you of a thought I had this morning.

I was considering work conflict. I immediately felt disharmony, that clangy, hard metal feel of wills clashing and teeth being bared. I see a lot of swords and bared teeth these days.

I wondered about it and I wondered about my part in it all.

I remember what The Teachers said. They told it to me again and again, like any good parent would. It was a central theme with me.

I would bring a problem to them. A conflict. A heartache. And they would soothe me, and would explain things to me.

They would say, in your self, in your being, you are in alignment. You hold a lot of light. You may encounter many people who feel this light, and they will react as they will. It changes people.

And when in conflict, remember, if your intention is clean, if you’re right with yourself, then, it isn’t your stuff, if there is conflict around you. Don’t own it, and don’t assume that just because you are aware of it, you have caused it or responsible for it. Realize you play roles, they would say. Realize you are there by invitation and that whatever is happening is fine, just be aware of your own alignment, and don’t take on other poeple’s stuff.

Michelle Karen said the same thing three weeks ago. Remember, Kathy, she purred, you do not have to own the troubles around you. They are not yours. Just hold your light. Just love. Don’t own it.

But see, sometimes, I must.

Sometimes I am in the thick of trouble with another. I am at the moment, can feel some sort of conflict just hanging there, and my opponent is so busy preparing for this battle, and I could care less. Just, could care less. There is nothing to prove, nothing to win, nothing to vindicate, and nothing to defend.

And I find this fascinating. I think about how I must effect folk, and the catalytic energy I bring to places. I sort of feel bad for people sometimes, because I can’t seem to just lope along and be normal, and not have a big effect on people.

So, The idea was, this morning, this.

I thought about this one issue, and how the player is responding to stimuli. And I saw it whole.

I realised that when a person has a conflict, they are having a conflict in part with another human, but, more profoundly, they are having a conversation with a part of themselves, a part that they want to have a talk with and get to know better. This player, the conversation is abut survival, being the best, being liked more than all the others. Being rewarded for being prettiest, sort of. I think it is a very hard way to live. I watch it, and feel bad, because having pleasing others be the highest value, well, it’s a set up. An energetic set up. I find it quite exhausting to be part of it, actually. And it’s on my windshiled day after day. So, in the end, who is having the converstaion with whom?

But the thinking went, ok, if this person is having a profound conversation with a part of himself when in conflict with me, then that means that I am a part of him. Not the conflict, but perhaps I am playing a role for him. Maybe, I thought, in the end, we are doing each other some sort of wacky favor.

An interesting thought.

I liked it. It took the fear out of the equation, and I can see things more clearly.

So, I think I will once again mention the picnic.

The Teachers told me that all relationships are just like agreeing to go on a picnic.

There you are, just the two of you, away from everyone else. And you are sitting on a blanket, each of you have a basket beside you, and the idea is that now is the time to share goodies.

So, one by one, we take turns. And I bring out a sweet. And the other brings out a rock. I bring out another treat. I get another rock. And, The Teachers said, ok then, when, in this picnic do you get up with your basket of goodies and disengage? Three rocks? Twenty? And how many treats justify how many rocks? Their point was that, in life, the idea is to hang out with the ones who carry the best treats, I think.

And the idea, further, is this.

I realize that when I have conflict, I do contribute to it. I do. And sometimes, I feel compelled to bring out rocks. Big ones. Ugly ones. Gross ones. I really do. And then, when I get rocks back, I still get mad. It’s a funny thing.

So, these voices, they help me to know if I am bringing out rocks, and the shame, that zing of not doing it right, it is gone, realizing that yet again I hauled out a rock and the other is pissed, justifiably so. I think on it this way, and I feel better, my feelings replaced with sort of a lighter, happier, less serious tone. I am bound to do some rock giving. And here is why.

I am not alone on this planet. I have people who need me, and some of them need me so they can push against me.

It really is as simple as that.

And so, maybe I have solved this work conundrum, this lurking bass beat I feel of resentment and fatigue and bitterness. Those are my rocks. I bring them out and serve them up to my co-workers, my bosses. No wonder they tire of me.

So, there is a softening underway. I feel more humble than ever, more delighted, more nurtured and supported and loved than ever before. I feel unafraid at the moment, and my fatigue is thankfully less than it has been the last few weeks.

That’s the thing I have realised, and how I want to end, actually.

Driving from the house, thinking about my day, aware of anxiety, aware of fear of failure and censure and being fired and all the shit that goes on in my working girl brain, I had a thought.

Look up.

I was told to look up, and I did.

I was reminded then, with a lightening of my mood, and a deepening of my breath, both involuntary, of the things I have to look forward to. I was told I have been used to focusing down so intently on the moment before me, I forget, I forget to look up and have hope.

I forget that it will end, the pain, and that this is almost done.

I forget that I have a purpose that is beyond this chart note, that dressing change, that boss’ grave displeasure.

I forget.

Look up, I hear.

Just look up and remember who you are.

And that is the dictation. That is my home. I then can drive, and, without smooth music or comfortable clothing or anything pleasurable, I feel quieted, and capable, and happy. Confident, able, competent. Enough.

And this is the change I wanted to tell you about. This solid guidance.

And yet, reaching for the net book, to begin this letter, I had doubts. Very big ones that felt sharp and orange and bad and foreboding. I wondered if I should attend to the fear and not do the work. I shrugged and thought, fuck it, it’s a science experiment. I know I need to write. Time to do so plopped into my lap. I am fearful of things but I think I want the good stuff. I want a treat. I don’t want a rock right now. So I torched up the net book, and here I am. I made a decision that was a hard one. I told that possibly justified fear of mine to sit down because I was going to be busy for a couple hours. And I began.

The love overcame my fear, I wrote, I feel better, and, actually, if I “get into trouble” now, because of my choices of scheduling, I am shrugging. I don’t care. I got to write this essay. I got to sit and have some time with you. I got to say what is on my mind and heart. I got to work out some worries.

This work thing is a final test. I know that. Old energy dies hard. It likes to spook. It gets off on my fear. That’s its thing. And I feel like it is time to starve the fucker.

But, wait. There is more. There is more there is more.

I need to mention something. It really is sort of odd that it didn’t get mentioned before now, but, here goes.

I understand very little about these times, the blood moon, the eclipses, but I did get a few pieces of information today while doing ultra mundane stuff, and I feel it necessary to pass on, to close.

Consider this next part a simple act of stream of consciousness. I don’t really channnel much anymore, but this will be close….

This morning I saw a video explaining why it is the moon turns blood red on such an eclipse event. I saw the images as the man’s voice explained that as the sun and moon do their dance, for a time, all the light from all the sunsets and all the sunrises on earth are seen as a red corona around earth, as seen from the moon. I saw a picture of it, a black circle lined with red, and I could only think of the solar eclipse, and what I saw, just weeks ago.

After the solar eclipse, I found a video of it, taken from a helicopter. As the eclipse occurred, suspended there, in the sky, in the heavens, was a black circle, ringed with red. But the red, it was a live, and, to me, the circle looked like an eye. I felt, for those moments, a stillness. A knowing. A communion. I felt as if I was being looked at and loved. I laughed as the video played, because I thought, for an instant, I would see that disc blink.

And then, seeing this footage. I understood that we are doing a telescopic thing here. From the greatest love of all, this eye looked at us. And now, we return the favor. We look like the eye, to our moon. We extend ourselves, and move forward.

I saw the 20th then, and understood this is a triad. This energy is a sweep and will culminate somehow on the 20th, and I do not even know why. I don’t know why but I know this. And I know it is no accident that things are coming together as they are.

I will be surrounded by my loving singling colleagues on Saturday. I am driving up to Lookout Mountain before sunrise Saturday morning, and will witness the blood moon from there. And then, I will be with friends. I am stunned at the circumstances. On the 20th, I will be surrounded by family, in California, those who will understand what will be happening to me. And I think, given the company, I will not be the only one going through changes that week.

This is what I see, and have been seeing. I am getting more comfortable with this. I am readying for something and I don’t consciously understand any of it.

But, I do know that we are completing something big on Saturday, on the 20th, now.

I feel like the Easter moon, this moon is signaling the close of the age. The age of a battered and bloodied and murdered christ. Then end of worshiping those who understand things better and are nice, really really really nice. Those who rock the boat, challenge others simply by breathing in and out, loving everybody regardless, regardless.

The end of seeing an activated human being and falling on one’s knees. What silliness.

This is the end of this crucifixion tale, and the self immolation that it required, impassioned, justified.

This is the end of an age I am glad to see close. The age of misunderstanding. The age of fear. The age of cowering, of cave dwelling, of survival thinking, of hero worship.

This is no ordinary moon, but these are extraordinary times, and it makes sense that our heavenly friends would be mirroring this lovely dance we are doing with our collective soul.

This is the interconnectedness at its core. We are one family, after all, all of us cosmic brothers and sisters.

And this is the feeling I was left with, sitting at the side of my bed, thinking on my troubles, on work, on pleasing the boss and fearing for my job. This idea that we are all doing roles, playing parts, doing favors for one another, helping each other. And sometimes the help comes in the form of the most noxious of stimuli, and that is just fine too. I see that for movement to occur, things have to move, keep moving, and moving this way and that giggling, with integrity, looking up, I am thinking that, in that state, it’s not interesting to haul out my grody rock collection. Maybe if I am more mindful, limit the rock throwing, I will get better results. And if I don’t, on either count, well, that’s just fine too. Either way.

But I like peace. I like the giggling, and the levity, and the hope. I think I’ll keep it dialed there today, see what happens. I’ll send you another field report when things move a bit more. I am shaking my head and smiling. It’s all just fine, you know. Everything is more than fine. Worry is optional, horror is not mandatory, anxiety is choice, and resentment is addictive self pity at its worst.

Until then, this was my field report for these most unusual times…..

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