DEEPLY AWAKE COFFEE TALKS By Kathy Vik
“The Dreamer Awakens” 12-26-15
In this nice cleft that is made, between Christmas and New Year’s week, a familiar sensation has come upon me. I already feel done. I have commented on it before, the mass hysteria that is Christmas, how uncomfortable it would make me, and tired, sort of soul fatigued, with a dash of social anxiety mixed in, just for fun. So, Christmas was something I was pretty relieved to see the hind end of, this go around. And even that, I look at now, and think, Jesus, how pathetic is that? What a sad story to keep telling myself.
The thing is, I really do feel like the year is already over, but I feel like a whole hell of a lot of other things are finally over, now, too. It’s not like I’ve been scribbling down lists of grievances, although Festivus is a hoot, just as a concept. No, I think I’m about done with all that stuff. I want to explain.
It was October, the end of October, 2011, when my guts sang a brand new song for me, as I was doing dishes at the sink. Something brand new came over me, and I knew it the moment it happened.
That illness led to a decision, to forgo allopathic medicine, and instead, allow my body to talk to me, tell me what it wants, what it needs, and I learned, in the coming months, to obey myself in brand new ways. I had to. If I ate or drank anything my body didn’t agree with, it was painful and messy and gross, and it was immediate. That went on, solid, for nine months.
I listened to the last Kryon tape, and he explained that there is such a mechanism. The innate takes over, and that’s just the way it is. I knew, that whole time, I was being taken care of. I knew what I was doing was counter-intutive, to doctors and such. I didn’t mention it, but, I got off all pharmaceuticals, too, and I was on a bunch.
That’s what started this process, but, even in the beginning, it came with sparkles. I was given a recipe, and it should not have made bread, it was weird, without eggs, without things I was used to, all of it I got at a Sprouts, first time there as a real shopper, gripping my list, that I got in a vision, dictation, that I transcribed as I stood at the kitchen counter. I shared the bread, and the blessing that had come with it.
So, I see from the inside how vast and powerful things have been for me. The shifts have been enormous, and they have been internal, external, relational, soulic.
The thing is, with all this growth, with something within me coming on line and settling all the freaking pieces into some sort of coherence, finally, there must come, there needs to come, a time of integration. No longer needing to assimilate, re calibrate, but to radiate, just, simply to radiate.
This Christmas, I sat in my usual chair, and I felt such a sense of having come up short for others, this year. I could see, all around me, how, especially this year, but in the last three, since this thing began for me, I have been absent in many ways, for the ones who actually demonstrate their love for me by showing up and being involved. I have been walking through their garden this year, calmed and soothed and heartened so many times by their naked beauty, and I have not once gotten on my knees and weeded, not once, this year, and not often, the last three. I have spaced out the connection between watering plants and their health, and my friends have grown a little pale, as a result.
I think on this, as I open present after present, thoughtful ones, beautiful ones which a loved one went out of their way to purchase, after seeing it and thinking of me. Gifts always just knock me flat, and there I was on my comfy chair, with a full belly, and an aching heart.
How much I want to show love, to make sure my loved ones know I see, appreciate, honor and love them back.
And yet, the flip of it is, this year, more than any, I have felt so honored. I mean, deep down, seen, and given to, and it felt so good, so good, so good.
And so, I think that I am with my life sister on this one. This year, this is the year we do it just a hair different. This year, we show up different. I’ll explain, and then I’ll sign off. But first, I need more coffee, and some tunes.
Maybe it’s finally getting knocked around enough, I don’t know, but, I also know I’m not the only one. I have talked to a lot of folks who feel very similar. It’s something that seems antithetical to my feelings of having come up so short as a human, as a living, loving, in-relationship, all-they-want-you-to-do-is-show-up on that pink wing back Christmas chair, but, really, it isn’t at all. Not at all.
I have a friend with the same problem as me, this weird sense, at times, that we simply do not exist. It’s nice to know someone with a similar twist in the thinking. But, I am thinking, when putting it through this new lens, breathing as deeply and smiling as broadly as I am, that this is a very profound metaphor, one which deserves unpacking, or at least acknowledgment.
I think it speaks to valuing of self. Of what echo is going to be accepted as a distortion, and what echo we can and will accept as a true representation of what was offered. But, too, it speaks to trusting.
Beyond the confines of convincing self of worth, of using the outside as a lab to convince one of their worth, this is a good and right use of reality, and for me, it was long overdue. IT was a gift, given to me when I was ready, given to me by the only person on the planet I could trust with the news, of my worth, of my beauty. I got an amazing echo, and while I was listening to it, I let my eyes glaze a little bit.
This process of coming to, of coming forward, it has involved what appears to be my having taken my hands off the wheel, in certain respects. But I think that this, too, is quite purposeful.
I feel a desire to reconnect with people and with life in a different way, and, somehow, this break, between Christmas and New Years, it always seems to me a perfect time to do it. I feel a burst of newness around this time of year, always have, like the last year’s stories, or the tableau on which the stories played out, can finally begin to fade, as the big page begins to turn, and a shadow of what is to come descends on what most definitely was, but is now passing from sight.
On Christmas, I went from the facility to family. I saw the contrasts, and they were stark. I see how open, how loving and happy and free I am at work, and how profoundly loved I am. In our family, there is less expression, less permission to express, and I adjust. WE all adjust. And I sit there, with hands that could have given more to those in this room, all year long. I could have called, reached out, given, more.
And so, it seems to me that this coming year is one that is not so much paradoxical in its intention as it is magical. I feel strongly that I will have around me those with little shame for how much love they feel for me. Those who can and do express as I do, they are who I feel attraction now. Like my friend, with whom I have clarified my desires, I feel strongly that genuineness is the order of the day now. For a long time, kindness was my litmus test. And, it still is. I just organically don’t attend to the unkind they are a waste of my time. But, there is more. Kindness, oh, my, kindness is relative, y’all. Now, I am feeling, although compassion is kindness’ mother, and it is the only thing around here that cures, that really heals, way down deep, but, compassion also has the potential to be excruciatingly painful, in its own way. Compassion comes with a squeezing of the heart. Sometimes, my heart can’t stand it.
I think, this year, I need genuine. I can see kindness, and compassion inside someone who is genuine. Someone who is genuine is someone who has learned to be kind and compassionate with themselves. They have learned to give themselves a break. They have learned that it is not they, but the consciousness that pains them, that is limited.
And so, I am not going to be as attracted to those who were very attracted to me, those who for some reason or other would never come out of the shadows. I had a whole year of talking to disembodied voices and feeling strangely tended to.
What I was attracted to was resistance. I got off on it. I found it fascinating. And, really, if I am honest, because of how I am built and my natural desires and aversions, I have had a love affair with resistance all my life.
It’s so rewarding to convince the unconvincable of something they do not see the sense in valuing. There’s really nothing like it.
And it is a metaphor for another time, is it not? Enticing the slow ones with a little heat, some light, giving them enough to get them through, to solve their problems better, to assist.
Yeah, I saw my role that way too, and I’ll bet I am not the only one, who has been more than happy to engage in psycho-sexual relationships with the intention of some sort of healing, and you know you’re doing it as you do it, and you know it’s mutual. Having been a veteran of many deep relationships, I find this to be more true than not. I think relationships are a potent form of spiritual medicine. I like what Leonard Cohen, Uncle Lenny, says about relationships. He calls them graduate level spiritual work. I call them the ropes course. Same difference. If done well, they move you.
But, I now just want to be moved into comfort. I think that’s why I decided to write today. I realize that a lot of this has to do with being mindful, ever more mindful, of the delicate strength of the love I have called to me, and to be grateful for it in all its manifestations.
That’s what came to me on Christmas Eve. I told my fond friend, of it that morning. It feels, to me, as if I simply stopped resisting. It means that, instead, I am accepting, you see. We parted excited for the coming year, for all it holds, because now, we have magic in our eyes, watching this next unfold. We finally know what we’re doing, more and more.
So, I’m really flabbergasted, looking back, on the good times I had this last year, and for all the indelible changes made. I take this sense of wanting to give more, and will use it as fuel to show up, to matter, to remember I do, very much, exist, and this old belief is just another shadow, a simpleton out roaming the village, a stray thought needing a warm bed and comfort food.
There is so much more to say today, so much more. But, I have promised brevity, and so, I end, and give you my love, my thoughts, my self, in exchange for a little bit of your time, your openness, your willingness to meet and match me, if only for a little while.