Deeply Awake – Sex, Fatness, Love and Career 10-18-12 By Kathy Vik

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First things first. Pleasure is very good. And sexual pleasure? Oh my, that’s really good.

It’s so good, that people just throw out their common sense to attain it. They do things that will claw at them on their death bed, things that they are too ashamed to admit they did, not even to themselves.

It is a powerful thing, this sexual pleasure.

I’ve been playing in the crystalline grid’s agreement field, manifesting from there, rather than that sickly green, moldy, creaky and infected agreement field I’ve been hooked into most of my life. While in the space of expansiveness, so rare the last few days, I played like a dolphin, conjuring up my future.

I didn’t go to career first. I didn’t follow the money, even though money has been shockingly tight lately. Nope. I went right to relationship. This is the first time in a long, long time that I have been open to the idea of having a relationship.

I saw what I had made of my life, lurching from relationship to relationship, with long periods of pain and disillusionment in between, and realized I just kept repeating the most tiresome, awful patterns, and the stakes kept getting higher and higher and higher.

No longer was it just that I might break someone’s heart, or they’d break mine, nope, by young adulthood, the pursuit of sexual pleasure could break a home, and did, and by the time I was forty this love crap had broken my credit, my ex-‘s credit, broken a home, produced a child, and created catastrophe, chaos and deep sorrow. Screw it.

I walked away.

In all that time, the last eight years, I really doubt anyone has even flirted with me. Partly because I gained so much weight, I sort of made myself so ugly, no one would have flirted with me, but, still, if it did happen, it just glided off me. I covered myself up. Took myself out of circulation.

Sure, I guess I kind of gave up. I decided, after I left my husband, that I would never, ever be able to trust anyone ever again, and I would never, ever again be able to trust myself. It was a dark place to be in, but it had to be. I lived there eight grueling years, day in and day out, without hope, without light, without joy.

If I had found someone like a best friend who I also could have enjoyed sexually, I never would have gotten here. If I’d had it in me to take abuse, agree to degradation, comply with humiliation, learn to just live with joy-sucking temper tantrums and grotesque behavior, I wouldn’t be here.

So I was single. Fat and single.

I came through these dark days of contemplation and self discipline understanding a few things about sex, love, fatness and career, and what I want now.

Playing in this new, shiny agreement field, I didn’t focus on a lover’s age, gender, financial status, social status. I conjured up words of enchantment, deep reverence, profound joy. I described a home, a relationship, an Other with daily joy, simple kindnesses, seeking ways to make the other smile, deep peace, tranquility, support, generosity, comfort, kissing, smiles, gifts, cooking, joy, joy, joy… and with these words come the visuals.

Am I remembering my future with these images? Am I tapping into a parallel reality? Or am I putting in place things that look as comforting and happy and safe as they feel?

All I know is, when I am in that space, it is not necessary or wise to command. It is not appropriate to order the future. It is appropriate only to play in it, enjoy it, expand from within it and into it.

And from there I know that this new reality is coming to me, bearing down on me like a Mack truck, in a good way. It is, just as I am. It is right and straight and pure and true. Pure grace, wonderful mercy, in divine timing, with great humor, wonderful, lush humor.

Me winking back at me, a life full of contradiction, full of deep contrasts. Of course I have factored in a relationship. Of course I have.

I am not a sadist, after all. I’m maybe only two or three steps away from sadism, given the highs and lows I have allowed myself to experience, but I am not a sadist. Of course I have factored in tremendous love, of course. Relax. I can’t get away from it, it is on its way. Just timing, that’s all it is now.

So the idea that the love I feel for just a handful of people in my time, people who, just by the nature of things, the nature of the beast, we could not engage in sexual pleasure.

Wrong gender, or just not correct, not right. Wouldn’t have worked, would have wrecked something by trying to change it, pooping on a glorious gift. So these few, these loved ones from my family, these beautiful people who saw my gift within me of Source when I was utterly blind, these are my clan, my tribe, my angels.

I love them and they love me. I would do anything for them, because they are good and right and true. Each and every one of them may make or have made totally gross decisions, totally crapped on themselves and sometimes even me, but they are part of me and we understand each other.

I love them with all my heart, and miss the one who already went Home. I miss him, but he is more around me now than when he was alive.

This sort of deep recognition, when the outside world literally goes away, and the universe that the two of you explore and create while sitting on your patio on an October evening, filling in the cracks of each others soul, healing the wounds we might not even know we were carrying since we last saw each other, this is now who I want my sex partner to be. My sex partner, my love partner, my life partner. Whatever. I am so not hung up about sex, I just feel no shame anymore. It’s been an amazing process, shedding all this shame.

Did I mention that I have now lost just around 100 pounds? This weight loss and change in diet began nearly one year ago. I unplugged from food and drink. I had to, my family had had enough and I was detoxed, hard and fast. About 25# ago, they told me that I am now at “fighting” weight. I could not go on physically with the toxins I was ingesting, and they intervened, with my permission (remember, “they” is part of “me”…It’s hard to explain).

So, they said, I can lose as much weight as I would like, and it will come off effortlessly, joyfully, but I will have to hold intent and then take some action, but nothing too big or crazy. Just prove that the intent is a little more real than a wish.

Show in the physical you are open to it by holding intent and being open to new ways of doing things, and you can lose as much as you want. Otherwise I will maintain at this fighting weight. Sounds like a good bargain.

So I am no longer grotesque physically. People do not flirt with me still, but they are warmer. Some smile, some strike up conversations. I am going slow, because there has been a long, long freeze in my heart, in my life. I have been in a stasis of sorts, and rocking myself out of it is something I am doing slowly. For good reason.

So, when I played in the crystalline grid, in that agreement field, after I conjured up a love, I decided to use the time remaining to conjure up my writing career. Funny, but all the rest of the drive, thinking on my writing, I was imagining pictures, and the feeling just wasn’t there.

So, once I realized that, I thanked myself for having that insight, realized that at least having clear goals and pictures is a step in the right direction, but that I needed to get clear on what sort of feeling state, what sort of heart state, I wanted my career to inhabit. So I thought on that, then shelved it, and went to Wednesday service at Mile Hi Church of Religious Science. I was canceled from my shift last night, and I really never know where else to go when I am unexpectedly free.

So, I went to church, not knowing what I’d find, just knowing I wanted to be thinking about God with other people who were thinking about God. I am easily amused.

The whole service was about dreaming big, and allowing your true identity, your fondest dream, to be alive and thriving, regardless of what your feedback loops might be reporting to you. To live your dream, to inhabit your dream. Honest to God. The whole service.

Jesus Christ, I am awesome. I am giggling as I write that. What a magnificent manifestation. ROCK ON, KATHY ‘N’ INVISIBLE FRIENDS!!!

You need PROOF of the existence of the crystalline grid, an agreement field pregnant and bursting with creativity and humor and timing and light and information and joy? There you go.

So, within that sacred space we all created by being there and participating, I decided that my business is love. I am called to write now. This is what I need to do, for myself. If others benefit, which I understand they do, then so much the better. So be it. And so it is.

This is my calling because this is my joy. This is what moves me, motivates me, informs me and guides me. It is the light in my life, the thing in which everything goes, and everything comes from. It is my true north, my honored and reverenced center.

The messages I received in that soup last night, were quite simple. The one sentence message about my finances, “You are selling yourself too short.” That’s it. By continuing just doing nursing, or even getting another job doing it daily (ugh.) I am selling myself short. And the message was received: No, we are not going to create havoc, make you lose your job, nothing like that. You don’t need that anymore. You are finally listening.

But we are going to keep things tight. You will have to pay bills, and on time, and the consequences will keep slowly elevating, because you are selling yourself short. If you allow yourself to imagine what you know to be true in your heart of hearts, what would that person do next? What would the successful writer and lecturer do next, at this stage of the game? Then, you know, you could just go ahead and do THAT.

And from there, came a dam bursting with feeling states in which I want to dwell, now and for all my days. These are sacred, sharing them is unnecessary here. They are there, as valid as this other agreement field full of obligations needing to be half-assed, squeaking by, getting crapped on and believing I must tolerate it. Ick. It’s not even a contest.

OK.

So, love and sex and fatness and career.

Blah blah blah. Sounds like just more mundane crap to wade through.

Isn’t it lovely that I can’t leave a thought alone? I can’t just stop thinking and feeling and experiencing. It’s just not something I’ve ever cared to do. It feels like I am physically dying when I turn this force off, and believe me, I have come close many times in this lifetime, the Source was turned so low, just a trickle getting through, just enough to keep the pipes from freezing.

It is not by my will that the spigot is cranked to maximum now. It’s not for anything but desire that I now have this flow coming to and through me. Just some innate willingness to tap into the beams of pure love we are being bombarded with. It’s available to each and every person on this planet, these feelings and understandings. They are gifts from above, from below, from within, from without. They are Source loving on us, calling us to It, reclaiming us as Its Own.

And don’t think for one minute that I live here. I do not inhabit these climes. I am a visitor, and I just write love letters from the little caves I find, on these walks up the mountain I have discovered in my being. These caves are all different, and each are brilliant in their depth and color, gems so rare, treasures so priceless that the beauty is sometimes lost in translation, and the gift appears to some completely worthless, because there are no systems of barter or trade for these treasures.

They exist in their totality, ready to gift the next visitor, and the next, and the next. They are unchanging acts of sheer creativity, mercy, love, and grace. It’s just that I can hold a pen and paper when I’m visiting.

So today it’s about sex, fatness love and career. Tomorrow, hopefully, it will be a different cave, a different outlook, a different horizon. Only God knows.

 

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