DEEPLY AWAKE COFFEE TALKS By Kathy Vik
“Noun or Verb?” 2-28-16
I have a day off that I am not able to feel guilty about, and it is luscious. I was fetching coffee, laughing out loud, thinking about how I could spend days on end like this, in 2012 and 2013. Day after day of not speaking a word until my son got home, or making little trips to shops, retooling my daily life, daily. And now, having one day off without cause for guilt, oh my, what a joy. And what a change.
Great deal has happened within me and in my life, since I last wrote, and I am not without glittering, lyrical essays, but they will remain unpublished. I have taken, finally, to writing just for me, just for me, and it feels really good when I do it, when it’s time. But, today, dear friend, we share this time, you and I, t piece together what has come to pass, and fashion some comfort as we spin yarns and explain hearts.
Although I know it is true that new fields of being, new realities within one’s life appear in the midst of and at the end of chaos, I understand, too, the physics behind change. All change in frequency creates structural change, physical change. And this change is preceded with what appears to be chaos. A time or reorganization. Recalibration.
I have been in such a time, since the 10th of this month. It could just as well be any number, because the last 18 days have been suspended, timeless, purposeful and with a surprisingly high degree of difficulty at times.
I understand at a fundamental level that it is just part of the course here, that we have a trigger, and we work on it, and then we are presented with it again, and that’s the part that we often call a test, for good reason, really. I can feel my guides hanging around sometimes, as I am negotiating a shit storm and testing out new skills, new thoughts, new behaviors, that lead to good feelings and people feeling included and involved and instrumental. The question on my team’s lips, I dare say is “Whatcha gonna do this time?”
Honestly, there comes a time when, boots on the ground, real life, it has come out of my mouth, walking down the hallway solving a problem, that whatever problem is in front of us is something we best own and deal with. Best not to argue with it or reject it, because, we made it. And, reflecting on that this weekend, I added to a pile of something like admiration for myself, a feeling I did not feel entitled to for many many days, due to circumstances that I found intolerable, unacceptable, and entirely my responsibility.
That’s a pickle. But, I got there, and I realized in my soul of souls that there is no one I can blame for anything in my life, not a thing, and in that evening, that tricky evening that helped solidify so much, I realized that I had been running from sitting down and feeling what I wound up feeling, for a very very long time. I was glad to have sat with it, birthed it, pulled it to me and loved it. I figured out something key that night.
I have no other option but to find a way to find value in myself, even though I had disappointed myself at such a fundamental level on two major life things, and, sitting there, faint, letting all of it crash through me, what I found was light.
I began to see the problems at hand in a light that was hopeful, and not at all pessimistic or defeatist, not in the slightest. Something bigger came to me at the end of that event, a culmination of so much shame, so much worry and guilt, so much inner outrage and anger. It blew through me, and I recovered, so well, like a brand new person that next morning. I shed something that night.
Coming to terms with one’s own responsibility does something handy. It also acquaints one with a clearer sense of personal power.
That is what I am seeing has changed the most. I have had a change in how I see myself, and how I talk to and with myself. It is startling, the contrast, and it catches me off guard. That is, actually, how I know a big shift has been made. I figure if my reactions, my native reactions, are foreign to me, which they are, often, after a change like this, then the best thing I can do is evaluate the improvements. Because that’s why this happens.
Then, sure enough, is the testing. And maybe that is why I call the energy demanding of focus. I find it easier to manage moment to moment if I am in the moment at hand. I use daydreams to mood alter, but I have been keeping that to a minimum, too.
This is all mostly due to a thought I keep having, one that rings true and feels really good, like it can point me home. I like the idea of living as if love is a verb, and not a noun.
I like this because it sort of spins off the nonsense behavior that I am great at, somehow lessening the embarrassment my insecurities tended to reveal so well. I like its objectivity. Of course, if love is lives as a noun, it will be a flat and selfish experience. A noun, love, it is a possession, something to attain or achieve maybe, but certainly some thing.
Love as verb brings to mind wanting to be as kind as I can to my patients, every single time I see one. Keeping my candy bowl filled and my office clean. Cooking for my son. Sticking to my budget. Smiling at the handsome man who has been waiting for me to smile back. All of these things require me making love an active thing, not something to protect or secure or negotiate, even.
But that’s not the end of it. I have had such a change of heart when it comes to coupling. At first I didn’t even want to talk about it here, but I figure, it’s macro/micro.
I think I have come to understand that sexual love, sexuality in love, is the most amplified, sacred way to access truly life giving energy, the all important vibration of love, and I will leave that word alone, use your own if that one doesn’t fit.
It is this union, a companionable companion, which I have secretly craved with such magnitude of force that perhaps no man, up til now, was capable of walking into the fire and staying put. That I have not had that was a source of great anger, pure rage, at God, at being here, at these fucked up societal roles that everyone has been soooo invested in, removing the sacred from sex, or putting such a high price tag on it, one must sacrifice one’s life and dreams for the experience.
I felt deprived and scared and really really outgunned, most of the time. As a personality, I think I adopted a fairly childish role in relation to my reality at times, as a result, feeling that my reality was just not doable and I NEEDED someone to help me.
Odd places I no longer feel it in my best interest to travel. Because, it’s a lie. My reality is mine. I am the master of my reality, because I am its originator. It’s all by agreement, even the shitty parts. So, this dependence, this cloying sick need for a companion, it morphed and changed as I did. I have been watching it now, the last couple weeks, because I have come to some conclusions about the agreements many of us make here.
First, this journey has brought me to a place of profound appreciation for how I did things this lifetime. I really am very pleased with my work. It lacks nothing, and this conflict, this template starvation, it was a story line. But, it was maddening.
A part of me always felt incomplete. Like I hadn’t been loved, at all, or adequately, or to my satisfaction. That kind of petulance and self pity followed me everywhere, and I realize now it’s because every time I was knee deep in my reality, and it was good, pleasant, cooperative, rather than celebrating, or just hanging out in it, I would think sad and melancholy thoughts about what I didn’t have, how far from my ideal this damn thing is, and then I would get all sad and disappointed.
So, I realize it is the whipping out of this dumb template, my list of How Reality Looks When I Am FINALLY Loved By The Universe, that creates the pain, which, I can assure you at times was exquisite. How could it not be? Oh, dear reader, you have no idea how lost I was, how far into places that had no room, comfort, no welcome. That’s what I find hard to forgive about some of this, sometimes, how very little I chose to value myself, and how little I was willing to take for such a huge piece of this magnificent heart.
Then, it began to dawn on me. Just bit by bit, but y last night, I found myself giggling while on break, quietly, to myself, just tickled at everything. Tickled with hope, really. I no longer believe that I am doomed to a life apart from the love of my life. I have redefined the phrase love of my life, actually. And I no longer believe that my job performance is a true and accurate measure of my worth as a human being.
So, for me, much of this work has been about worth. During my time of tremendous dissonance, where there wasn’t a lot of peace, and fear was a constant sparring partner, I found my thoughts about my inner life to be hideously mean, belittling, dismissive, demeaning. I didn’t read my old stuff much, and when I did, I thought it sounded stupid. Totally entrenched in the proof is in the pudding thing, I put my shoulder to the wheel and I grinded. Day after day after day. And my joy diminished, as did my self worth. Thinking myself a tottering fool with crack pot beliefs that don’t hold up under examination is pretty much how I spent that time, and it’s an unpleasant place to be.
I think what I have recovered, in the end, is a bigger sense of self, one that can include me winning or losing, engaging or ignoring, laughing or crying. I feel hope, because I am confident that I can affect my reality with my behavior. My immediate, day to day reality can be enhanced very greatly if I just turn love into a verb, if I engage, if I care.
It was sitting with the worst of it, owning the behavior that, frankly, no one could feel real proud of, and realizing that yep, that was me, and yep, it had consequences that are maybe not that great, and those consequences may be around for a while, just, owning it all, and feeling it all, and realizing that even so, I have merit, even so, I have worth, because there is so much I am not taking into account, here.
I think that’s what kicked in, a sort of turbo-boost of self esteem, my soul finally tapping its foot and saying, come on now, it’s not all that bad, and ding to me what I do with my son, come on now, think of three things you really like about yourself….
And so it began.
But this time, and I will say I have been through lesser trebles of this before, this time I can see the crappy stuff, the things that were just really counter-productive, and it rides right along side so many other choices, chief among them a smile, a shrug, a nod, and a chuckle. How fucking bad is anything, really, in the final analysis?
I have a dear friend who was talking about his abusive bosses, and how they were strong arming him with that subtle she-beast kind of intimidation. He nearly leapt across my desk, his face full of disbelief ans corn, like he was there at that awful meeting again, and he said, Hey Kathy, what the fuck can they do to me? I had a drunk for a dad. I can live through anything.
I think that’s true of a lot of us. Looking at what I have come through, both in my life and also energetically, to get here, I am glad for the struggles, and I am glad for the surcease. I did not expect to have more emotional work like this, I thought I was done, but I can so clearly see the results, the rewards, and it is a beautiful thing. To want to, at the end of this, no matter what happens, go out there and love, show it, mean it, speak it, live it, walk it, shake it, wink it, but, be it.
I want to say, in addressing the coupling thing, that I have figured a few things out. And mostly, I realize this next part is about relaxing and accepting love. I have done a very good job at arguing with it, suspecting it of all manner of dark monkey business. But, that’s from another time, when I didn’t know how to manage my own intuition, and I chose to stay silent and meek, for the sake of a stroke or a kind word.
I see it more simply now. I know what I want, and I realize that to get it I must be it, and I must, also, smile a bit more, because oh my, there are so many who love me so well. They keep their love as nouns, but I can feel it, I have had it, and I like it, I want more of it, and so, I’ll have more of it, in good time, and it will be phenomenal.
I say that confidently, not entertaining sadnesses that this isn’t true. Of course it ‘s true for me. Of course it is. But in the meantime, I know I am surrounded by loved ones, and friends, and those who would gladly trade something of worth for a little more of me.
And maybe that’s where I end this today, because it is a part of all this.
I spent most of my life feeling ugly, knowing myself to be unpleasant to look at. For much my adult life I felt disfigured, self-made disfigurement, by being so very obese. Although I appreciated my body and understood it had a wisdom I didn’t understand, it was a lot to be ok with, really. I mean, I could walk into Micro Center and not be approached by any salesman. Not one. It was eerie, because it happened a lot. I was invisible, and that was, in the end, better for me than feeling so ugly.
And now, I don’t think it’s right to hold those thoughts. I really really love my body. I love its shape, how it moves, how it looks, and am giddy sometimes with how pleased I am with it. And I like my appearance. I even like my face, and I am falling in love with all my wrinkles. I figured that was probably the best course to take.
So, it is a new appreciation of my self, and I don’t think on it like I have earned it, or had to work for it or anything like that. It has been cooperative, all the way, and it makes sure I don’t sacrifice for its happiness. We have agreements. But, it’s a good place to start. To actually like my self, just genuinely like myself, well then, it makes all this talk about accepting my foibles and innate bullshit all that much easier, because I can see so much good now, where once all I could see were flaws.
I think that in standard life, this level of feeling good about yourself is supposed to come through someone else who matters to you. And for me, that is how all of this began. I wouldn’t be singing this pretty song if someone hadn’t reached in, grabbed my shoulders, looked me in the eyes and made me believe I was a singularly miraculously luscious and amazing and beautiful creature.
Yep. I had that.
And without it, I wouldn’t be here. I am sad that what was once in my life is not, now, but, choices were made, and life goes on.
Kryon talked about Completing The Circle. His last recorded talk. So very powerful In it he says, being loved back, having love in your life, loving, this is the magic, this is the spark, spiritual rocket fuel. And I know it to be true. How can it not be, when All That Is is made of It? And this stuff, it is in my blood, and it is in yours, this god stuff, this all that is stuff. The love that comes back, being loved back, this completes the circle, but, he talked not only of having love in one’s life, that of a pet, nature, a human, but, more than that, being loved back by the piece of divinity we are… that is the main show, I think.
I have contemplated it a lot in recent days, the wishes a mother has for her son, as he strikes out and becomes him self. I would want him to know that the person who must and will always matter the very most to him is him, and he needs to be at peace with his own self. I want him to have that. And from there, I want him to be with gentle and kind people who demand nothing but his love and good humor and the best from his hands and heart. That he surrounds himself with kindness and that he understand he deserves nothing less, but neither does anyone around him. To treat others well, in balance with himself and the situation.
I realized I didn’t lay on him the you must couple up bullshit, “the only way to be whole is through another,” myth. Don’t get me wrong. If you meet your soul mate and the love keeps living and growing and nourishing, and it’s for a lifetime, then, great. But don’t expect that. It’s the exception, not the rule. You might a few of them, you just never know. Love, give, be honest and true, in your relations, and always put yourself in the other’s shoes, every now and then. Imagine what it must be like to be with you, and then, act accordingly. Talk. Risk. Share. But, be gentle, kind, thoughtful, respectful, having chosen those who only offer these things to you.
Those would be my instructions. And no where does it say abdicate your identity so that you don’t have to go the the grocery store by yourself, or die alone. I realized with that exercise that I wanted for him what I had enjoyed my whole life, and it really has been a sweet mofo, now that I’m seeing more sense to it, and it hurts less, and I’m happier, just, overall. Somehow that bitterness that used to leak out of my skin when I thought about how this moment was such a goddamned disappointment, it’s gone, and I feel no desire to compare this now with any other. Maybe that’s the hope. Maybe that’s the worth. Or maybe that’s just me relaxing a little bit, finally, finally able to genuinely relax, no predatory vibes for miles.
I hope this missive finds you wrapped in arms of love, spirit, god, all that is, your angels, however you want to frame it, holding you in its arms as you walk through your days, you calling on it, and it calling to you, loving you back, always, completing the circle with every heartbeat.