Deeply Awake – Chaos In Theory 10-9-12 By Kathy Vik

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I have moments, peak experiences, and try to send postcards from there. I was silent yesterday, within and without. I felt a flatness, a hollowness and a strange emptiness. Not the sort of emptiness associated with depression or obsessive love. This was weird. Flat and barren and blighted and not yet ready for seedlings. It was a harsh energy.

My son asked for his nightly blessing, which is really never anything but an opportunity for our guides to give us words of encouragement for the coming night and day. Last night I told him I couldn’t bless anything. I was feeling odd. He said, “That’s ok, Mom. Just say a prayer, then.”

So I did. For both of us. I prayed for release from the disappointment I feel at times, that things are still hard and scary sometimes, and I can’t seem to feel any peace sometimes.

I went to bed and read Kryon. Then I cried myself to sleep.

Kryon’s work is strangely mechanistic in its quantum-ness, strangely satisfying. His work speaks to an old part of me. But there is no talk of ascension, no talk of a definitive, transfigurative moment, ascension. He spoke instead about 18 years more of this shift.

Eighteen more years here.

I cried as I told God that, although I suppose I could do another 18 years here with things the way they are, since I am feeling better now, people are going off the rails…. Considering all the chaos, I think, at this point, I do not prefer to stay. I know I can choose. And I will not be doing another eighteen years in the muck. I will not. I will not. SO take me home, or arrange it, because I am done.

There are wolves at my door, there is sadness and disconnection in my family, there is improvement to be made in my daily life. There is always a great swirl of complexities and difficulties and dramas. No, no more. I want off. And I do not care if I miss a big event. I am done in this way of life. Something has to give.

I was asleep by 9:30pm.

There were pieces of dreams, and a part of my reason, a part of my identity was revealed to me. Things I will keep within my heart of hearts. My core. It fills me with curiosity and happy longing today. I think of that dream, nod my head, and say, I accept this as a valid truth. I am interested to see if and how it plays out here in the physical that I know. It’s a nice piercing of the veil.

This morning, I got the idea that I need to call to me the skill of past selves who are expert at cleaning, or expert at finances, parts of my past/present/future-life soup who would look at the messes I have made and feel excited, feel energized, not downhearted or defeated.

Surely there are valid and living aspects of myself willing to work with me. I could give to them medical information, the ability to write articulately, parenting ideas. We could have a free flow of information. I do not accept the turbulent or difficult circumstances leading to their abilities, no, just the ability. Just as I would not give a consulting colleague the painful parts of my nursing story, the reasons leading up to the decision, my awful bosses. No. I would want to give pure talent, pure affinity. That is all I would want to give. That is all I am willing to accept from my past and future selves. I said all of this out loud.

I put off doing work. I lounged. I was hiding, and I knew I was hiding. I got restless. I kept hiding.

Then there was a knock on my door. Bad news was at my front door. More bad news. Suffice it to say, I have absolutely no idea how I will ever just get to zero financially. Just being at zero is a miraculous concept, literally.

I got off my ass and attended to a scary and threatening situation. I realized driving to it, what matters is to be honest. Let her know I am scared. That I recognize the reality, the gravity, of the situation that I alone have created through neglect and fear. That I have every intention of fixing the problem I have created, and to just approach it lovingly. I did that, and we parted as friends. We have an agreement, one that is mutually beneficial and highly kind.

I got into my car, and I realized that it is true that there may just be pieces of this ascension thing I haven’t been told.

If every single bit of chaos that I perceive threatening my peace of mind is merely a gift I have indeed crafted for myself, then surely I can play with the circumstances. If I have written this script, can I not change the stage direction? Can’t I rearrange the acts or the intent of the villain? If this is an effort to help me to see, realize and love God, then I can begin that now. In all truth, I already have begun.

I think I have used two areas in my life to act out my frustration and my anger and my beliefs of self-worth: finances and my messy house. Could I have been using these arenas in an unskilled way? I think I have made messes so that I can look at the mess and say to myself, “Regardless of the mess, I am a good person. I am intact. I am not this mess. God loves me even though I am messy, even if no one else does or even can.”

And to this I holler a hearty, “BRAVO! WONDERFUL FIRST STEPS!”

I have used my reality to illustrate truths, such as,
I am not my behavior. Others are not their behavior.
Even when I am irresponsible toward others or myself, I am still intact.
What others say is vital for survival I reject as simply optional, and I am safe.

But, now I see that there is a greater depth of perception available, and there is a new energy which makes the old lesson-rich paradigm clanky and a real pain in the ass.

I look at my desk. It takes up half my living room, far too big for my home. I never liked it, from the minute it was delivered from the showroom last July. It cuts up the space, it feels intrusive and obtrusive, and it does not allow flow through the house.

How wonderful a metaphor my desk is!

I bought it in the old energy, for an old energy purpose: to please an always slightly disapproving boss with work product from my desk, and to organize my life to get in line with everybody else’s expectations of me financially.

Instead, the job was gone weeks after the desk arrived. Instead, that desk supported my computer as I awakened on-line. From January until July, I was at that desk researching, writing, exploring, watching, growing. That desk supported my search, and my awakening.

Now that desk feels like an impediment. It feels like a big sore thumb in my house, something I need to get rid of but I’m stymied as to how to do it.

It was supportive and is quite beautiful, but it no longer fits. Maybe it never really did, but its time is over.

And here I am, looking at with new eyes, a new perspective.

I will wish it well and find it a new owner. I will get help doing it if I need to. I will do my best to make this an easy and quick process. But I cannot do it instantly. It is a process. Tidy it up. Take a picture of it. Put it on craigslist. Arrange a buyer. And one day soon, there is no desk.

I want it instantly.

I want instant ascension. I want to be taken up wheel within wheel.

But I have begun to rethink that as well.

I realize today that the heartbreaking slog I have come to think of as “Life” is doing the chores with a heavy heart, while ignoring how much I love God and everything around me.

Somewhere along the line, in the last few days, I forgot how deeply I am in love with God. Think about your mate, or someone you love. Can you prove to anyone how much you love them, how much they truly love you, and can you ever truly fully explain why and how you love your person?

Does your love change shape and texture and context depending upon what is happening day to day, hour to hour?

I feel that way about God. Sometimes the silence is deafening, but it is part of the process. Sometimes the love is all-consuming, and it’s all I can think about or be aware of. Today, as I remembered again how much I love God, and how much God loves me, I began to realize that no mess is beyond cleaning, because each mess is made of God, is my expression of my understanding of God.

This is very hard to language. There are dimensions to my experiences which do not lend themselves easily to words. I pray only that my use of the word God doesn’t drive people to distraction.

I feel now that this new energy bombarding us is only increasing, is only crescendoing. It will intensify. It will make for greater peaks and valleys of inner experience, and the gifts are exponentially bigger now. With the hope and good cheer found in the mind and heart of absolute love, I will daily do more and more things which are FROM the new energy, not the old.

The old habits, patterns, expectations, and disappointments begin to lose their significance. The political nonsense, TV entertainment, even some metaphysical stuff, well, it will seem less and less real, less and less true. And in the new energy, old problems are so easily solved. And in such a way that everyone walks away intact, uplifted, feeling stronger and more capable and deeply, profoundly loved.

If I could live here more than in the old energy, I would not be creating as many messes. I would not feel the need to dare myself into loving myself into wholeness. I would create from a place of knowing the whole, loving the all. I will not set up these little passion plays pitting authority against me so that I can prove to myself, internally, that I am ok regardless of circumstances.

Instead, I can create better circumstances, from a place of deep respect and reverence for myself as co-creator, as cooperative creator with The All. The All cannot possible don a body and do this. It is too big, too vast. It needs each of us to experience all the variety and creativity it has, through chemical reactions and physical response, through relationship and solitude. I am happy to oblige.

I heard a Mayan shaman say that the body is a manifestation of the past, and joy is a manifestation of the future. If we do things which create joy in our hearts, we are cooperating with the God who loves us so very much. We must realize that what we see, although having an impact on us in the now, is from what we were thinking and feeling in the past.

This new energy, this is coming from God, outside of time, outside of linear sense. It is coming from the core, from creativity, and a place incapable of seeing such things as shame, blame, worth, competition. These concept make no sense.

So, another eighteen years?

Last night, I told everybody once again that I was done. That was it. I have a right to leave, and I am invoking that right.

Today, to be honest with you, I still think eighteen years is too long a time if it means having to watch and participate in this sad dance of us all missing the point and misinterpreting the data. It’s exhausting. But, although significantly challenged today, it feels, it is, do-able.

But I see something today I did not see last night.

There are improvements being made all the time. Things are getting easier, all the time. Things are less scary, all the time. People are more gentle, all the time. People are more peaceful. All the time more so.

The old will surely pass away, becoming finally dissolved, absolved into the new.

If I can feel peace, love, and brotherhood in all ways, at all times, in all circumstances, and if I can carry on my love affair with God, my God, then, for as long as I actually do stick around, it is going to keep getting better. Creating from love begets love. Creating from duality begets pain.

The last thought I have on the subject is about the ascension itself. I just want to say, that I have had a few physically altering peak experiences, a few quite were very hard on my body. I recovered quickly, but I had begun to worry about going too far in meditation, for fear of “flipping” over and just blinking out of existence.

This has kept me back, kept me from doing some exploration. Of course, there was a reason for this fear. At the time it was necessary. I do believe there are some energies so powerful that when we invite them in, they are incompatible with this dense dimension, and it is then, at that moment of critical mass, that one can stay or leave, but must have decided definitively.

If I choose to stay, creating more and more from this new loving energy, and I keep having these much more gentle, calm peaks, perhaps I have to hold myself back a little less. Maybe I can start exploring again. Is there a superwave, a galactic energy wave making its way to transfigure us? Do we get such a pure hit of energy at some point that we will simply turn into light?

I don’t know.

And my reality is now eagerly inviting me to not care.

My reality is telling me that there is work to be done during daylight hours, using these hands and this back, this mind and this will, to just make for a simpler, more joyous, easier way.

For better or for worse, today I find myself here, craving french onion soup and iced tea. I am not able to perceive me as being anywhere but right here, in a construct which requires that I actually give a damn what is happening to me moment to moment, not spaced out wishing I was elsewhere.

I know ascension is real. I know these new energies are real. I know that God, my God, is real. But I also know that I am a good participant, and it is time now to participate more fully, but with a different perspective, a deeper perspective, a more hopeful and broad perspective.

I don’t know where any of this leads.

I may wind up crying myself to sleep again tonight. I might have to pay off debts the remainder of my days. But this is where this great being of love finds herself today. I commit to this day, using the ancients’ rules, a lighter heart, a trusting soul and an eager smile. I know as much as anybody. I think I will go do our laundry now.


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