DEEPLY AWAKE Chats 2017: “Nudges and Allowances” By Kathy Vik 6-18-17

DEEPLY AWAKE Chats 2017: “Nudges and Allowances” By Kathy Vik 6-18-17


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It’s funny how my reality is complying with my lazy announcements, my intuitive hits on what comes next for Deeply Awake.

I’ve noticed for at least three weeks that new videos are not being watched, on my website. Instead, archives are being plumbed, and people are calling up essays and videos I have, of course, long forgotten about.

This morning I smiled, no longer feeling odd about it. Haven’t I been saying, for about three weeks or so, that this leg of the journey is over? The videos, the feverish reporting, the real-time reflections on having applied new information, and ancient information?

And now it comes to pass that I’m getting zero play. But, why would there be anything but an “Oh, ok then…”

Truly, the pace and complexity of daily life is happily more of a focus for me, and I am enjoying re-learning things that I took a disliking to which, upon revisiting, I am finding I enjoy rather than detest. That’s been nice. To approach “the mundane” with something like gratitude and excitement, rather than, oh, I don’t know, a sort of dull hatred mixed liberally with red hot resentment.

Mostly, though, I’m just putting it all together these days.

I don’t really expect anyone to look at this process and say much of anything except, “Ok, well then, do you FEEL better now?” I mean, a part of me looks at what I have done with bewilderment. With cleverly hidden impatience. With alarm, even.

I’m not typical, I can say that much.

But, it is my story, and to get to the place where I feel good about that, and more, I feel good about how I am embodying all of it, well, that’s I think the idea, in the end.

I was really into other people’s shit, really committed to parsing things out and trying to get it right, this thing I have with The Other. A long, arduous and fascinating study in free will, life design, love and its refusal. I am utterly relieved that the work is largely complete. I am tickled, in my best moments, to know that I captured all of it, the grave misunderstandings, the soul openings, the koan crackings, the heart breaks, for a public that didn’t have to lay down a nickel for any of it.

I know that a novel is not too far off for me now. This was the first step, to bring a simple essay to fruition. To flex my old muscles and remind myself of this wholly incredible sensation the act of writing creates in my living tissue.

I am moving into my house now, in a new way. I don’t feel scared anymore. I don’t go month to month knowing I don’t belong here. I know now that I am safe, and truly, I wasn’t all that safe before. It was appropriate to feel like a squatter. But it is not anymore, and so with this release comes new desires, new pastimes, new pleasures.

I am looking forward to many new pleasures. After a year of celibacy and study, concentration, devotion and discovery, I am slithering into my body, feeling bolder, competent, light. Even though I limp worse now than a year ago, I find I am dancing into my life in joy, choosing it., opting for it, loving it, and celebrating it, daily.

But with all this light comes its progenitor, its worthy adversary, its equal, its foil.

I see now that it truly is the turning from, turning down, minimizing, ridiculing and fear of love in all its many forms which creates darkness, between those who only desire love. Love, of course, is a loaded word, used by hateful and loving alike, so maybe we round out the definition of what I am describing. I’m thinking now of those situations where you are being denied, though entirely worthy of what is being denied… Is it a job? A promotion? Recognition? Affection? Respect? Or consider when someone has targeted you as their scapegoat or whipping boy, and all the destruction that implies. Consider being lied to, toyed with, cheated, tricked. None of these are fun.

All of them happen, regardless of “lightworker” status (though some of us do more shadowwork than others, as they wish) and each are cauldrons for epiphany, for change. The times we must and do prove to ourselves or own strength, or own wisdom, our own worth. But to get there, many go through hell.

Think on it, times when the balance is so askew, and you are getting the business end of someone else’s perversity or pain. Surely, when taking a couple steps back, most situations are a mixed bag, and everyone contributed to the conflict. Ahh, but there are times when you are just getting creamed out there, because others are making decisions which are cruel, selfish, cold or mean-spirited. When people act that way, I think they are making bad decisions. Decisions that are unfortunate, regrettable, icky.

If really stinky, bad decisions are made, the ones that shock and twist and hurt, and you are the one who made them, the truth is, you’re going to be given another opportunity to do it over. The stakes might go up, but you’ll find yourself here again, and it’ll keep coming around until you respond differently. With more light, more gentleness, more power, more whatever is lacking that you wish you could have had there in your fingertips, on your tongue, in your heart, before.

And if you’re making great decisions, and your companion isn’t, well, I am realizing now that this is the place of power, and the place where things can change, where gifts can be given and lives are forever altered for the better.

In that moment when the dark is squeezing you but good, yet again, I know now that this is actually where the work gets done and the alchemy is had, in those nooks and crannies where self love has long vacated, and all that remains is pain and suffering.

It is these places in our psyche which bleed when they are poked, so they are well guarded. The only balm that works is being loved when we don’t feel we deserve it, when we know we don’t deserve it, when we have utterly denied it to ourselves, or when it has been utterly denied us. It is when someone reaches in and, through alchemy itself, confers it by seeing us as justified, beautiful and real, this is what can be called a miracle. A healing. An eternal moment.

Sometimes there is no one in sight to offer this anointment. Those times are what’s called “hell,” “the dark times,” “hitting bottom.” With no one left, and no one on the horizon to remove the suffocating weight of feeling the burden of one’s own wrongdoing, or ruminating on injustices dealt you, well, my contention is that this is not a place that is compatible, long term, with life. Something must break the impasse, whether it be a perceived improvement, or worsening. But without intervention, staying in that groove results in madness, illness and death. Therefore, to remain in pain winds up being a choice to suffer, and suffering is the opposite of the true human condition, in my humble opinion.

Now is the time, I have found, to begin to realize that the help that is available requires no medical insurance, or good connections, or luck. Within each is the way out, because within each is a beating heart.

I think I am simply talking about the removal of attachments, but when I speak of attachments, I am speaking of hidden ones, the ones which help you, but are as much a part of the matrix as the nonsense stuff.

Sitting back and looking at it, honestly, assessing what it is you really like about yourself, and I think it comes down to having it be a self-referencing thing. Regardless of what anyone says or does, regardless of denouncement or promotion, earned or unearned, regardless of role, title, attribute, can you find something there and then, can you love it?

This is a process that can be lived out allegorically and therefore economically, so to speak, but I think realizing one’s intrinsic, native, innate worth often winds up being entirely experiential. It is indeed destructive, and I am thankful for that. At the end of the process, I find I have even more admiration for myself, but it is entirely independent from “successes” or “failures.” The need for approval is kissing cousin to the need for the outside to smile upon its confused creator.

Losing one’s attachment to finding worth from task completion is not the same, though, as honoring newly discovered native capabilities. And that is an important distinction.

Having skills some don’t yet possess is, in the end, more to do about timing than anything. It’s nice to have capabilities. I know the price I pay for these capabilities. And I know the responsibility in actively carrying them. And everyone will. Everyone does, I think, but the programming is thick, and the process is ongoing.

And so as evening deepens into night, I will now turn my attention to rediscovered simple pleasures.

Each morning I am told that the emotional quality of the coming day, moment to moment, has to do with where I place my focus, how high, and on what. It is all on me, what kind of day I have (within reason… some days are, energetically, better than others, however), and that the quality or timbre of my day is as changeable as my thoughts. It’s up to me, what is my pleasure, seems to be the waking message these days. The visuals change, but the core of it has not changed for days.

I smile, though. The guidance is better than it has ever been, it is gentle and kind and true and wise. It is trustworthy. It is what surrounds and informs and comforts and loves me, moment to moment, day to day. It is real, for me, now, and is my light.

How curious to find a daily life now which is far more just and gentle, happy and calm than it has ever been for me.

The suffering that likes to pop in and offer itself to me now and then, I admit I still partake, and I still feel like shit afterwards, but those dips in regret and confusion and humiliated rage, I know, are just echoes from fever dreams and fantasy. The crosses I so willingly dangled from have all been re-purposed, and at this point, I can only smile, perhaps a little too indulgently, at those who continue to thrash on theirs. Timing is mysterious, I think, as I hoist up some water and holler a friendly word.

I don’t want to continue the practice of reminding myself of ugliness, of abandonment, of loss. I do it less and less now, and have those in my life who show me how unnecessary it is to go sniffing out such nonsense, such uninteresting, messy trouble. I am glad for this.

It is true that, just like you, I have had troubles. Just like you, I have had some resolutions. And I hope what is true for me now is also true for you, because crazily, unexpectedly, thankfully, now, I have more peace than I have ever known on earth.That this peace fluctuates at times is less of a puzzle now, and more of an adventure in radical trust.

I find myself once again in that peculiar place, of knowing that there are experiences and activities currently absent in my life that I fancy would be fun to enjoy daily. What I find curious is this incompletion no longer is tearing me open, stem to stern. Instead, I am able and willing, without anger and without sadness, to walk through my days gratefully attending to the miracles unfolding in my life, knowing there is something far greater than my littlemind making everything go.

The gifts I have yet to receive can come in good time. I know they wait for me, as I wait for them, as we wait for Divine Timing. and so I retire, this evening, content, within and because of my commitment to our current and ongoing collective evolution.




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