Deeply Awake — From Here 11-18-12 By Kathy Vik

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So much has changed in so little “time” for me, that I find it impossible to parse the experiences as I used to. I had been taking energetic snapshots from times of great clarity, mined from depths, to be sure, that many prefer to avoid, and many more wish to remain unspoken, the voyages to the darkness, the shadows, fears and doubts aplenty, these are places we do not, usually, allow ourselves admit to others, and sometimes, we refuse to admit these things to ourselves, these big bug-a-boos, these big blots we think we have on our souls or on our characters, til finally, one day, it’s just all too much, and seems to make perfect sense to maybe cut yourself some slack, start appreciating yourself just a little bit, maybe try exploring your own story just a little bit further.

And so it begins.

And there I went. Actually, it’s where I dwelled, purposefully and stubbornly, probably far longer than was entirely necessary, but this staying with the dark, with the one pole of limitation and disbelief and fear, I did finally GET the lessons, and they will not scatter.

I have spent the last few days in a haze of goodwill, of recognition.

Just as I knew it would happen, there have been miraculous clearings of old debris, and just like the little sticks and leaves that dam a great river, in rhythm with the needs of river, land and sea, those sticks, that debris, has finally been burst through.

I have spent much time with Bashar. I found another channel of the same entity, and have learned much from Bashar, our Bashar. Bless his heart.

I have less of a stars in the eyes approach to all of this now.

I used to think that anything good, anything pure and clean, had to be from out there, an emanation of some higher mind I myself did not posses.

I considered it, until this last Kirtan, quite possible for St. Germaine, Jesus, Kuthumi, to have been presences in my life, Archangel Michael a long time and faithful friend, all of these disembodied entities taking a personal interest, and more, a moral imperative to help me wake up.

Kirtan taught me that these are but one cluster of personalities, one cluster of gods, who are each and every one holy, keepers of mysteries, and dear friends. However, this is an approach which I have been able to integrate to some degree, because of Kirtan.

I understand that each civilization has created their own symbology to interpret for themselves spiritual truths, or at least hints to spiritual truths. It is now just a curiosity to me that our culture has made a God who utters, “Thou shall not.” My God has never, does not now, and will never, utter those words.

What does my God say to me? That is for me to keep close to my heart. Those who come to know the answer to this question are given a gift of great magnitude. There is not much that needs to remain hidden anymore, but there are things that prefer to be viewed rarely. And there are things which cannot be viewed unless a person has reached a particular frequency. It’s as if then, a different set of eyes open, and then what had to be hidden can finally come out and play.

I think that’s a lot of life.

I think with these tricky beliefs, the ones not in tune with how things really work, first start out as simply the structure of one’s life, one’s circumstances. If one is not observant, that is as far as things go, sometimes for an entire lifetime. A lifetime taken at surface value. I think there are are few human beings who are utterly committed to going no further, but I have met a few.

The thing is, some of these people have found a way to live from and through their hearts. Others, not so much. And they are real troublemakers.

So I do not think that everyone has to go through a process like mine, full of drama and visuals and extremities and all that stuff. Some people know, instinctively, how to drop into their breathing, drop that into their chest, their hearts, and this is where they well. Their lives, regardless of circumstances, is soft, it is sweet, it is generous and kind, no matter what blows are dealt.

I did it differently because I have an inquisitive, never-completely-satisfied inner mind. It’s not my brain to which I refer, it is the gridwork of my mind that has always cut and abraded me, as pieces which were still out of joint rubbed and bumped up against my better nature. Things within and without, answers to questions I have never heard languaged, this was my way.

So first came being in a sea of others’ beliefs, ones which were harmful, out of synch with bigger truths, or, more precisely, with my bigger truth.

And then comes the dissonance.

I think it has all been about dissonance.

Why else is there dissonance, but to work with it, acknowledge and smile as the paradoxes dance in front of me, as Ganesh and Kali did while I sat Kirtan a couple weeks ago.

I have always felt very deeply. I chose my astrological sign well. I am as Pisces as they get, and I am very glad I chose to give myself this in-your-face symbol of what I am and can become. There are no accidents, this least of all.

Being such a feeler, someone who can be given great truths by swinging on a swing, petting my cat, giving someone a shot, I remained open to the energetic eddies created when my natural being blew through the constrictions I took on, thinking I had to, thanks to this stupid amnesia.

The discomfort, anger, fear, anxiety, this was my clue that this a natural state of bliss was cramped, being run through beliefs that were limiting, or just plain incorrect.

Along the way, let’s never forget, all the help I had.

I guess that is what this is about, in many ways.

I see that my beliefs in this great hierarchy, the ones who literally saved me again and again this lifetime, I myself have changed through my devotion to them, and theirs to me. They are as real and as wonderful as I imagine them to be.

The fear of insanity has finally and gratefully passed. A device which assisted me in continuing to reality test, continually measuring input to some internal knowing, some ancient structure which I have spent all this time unearthing.

I want anyone who reads this to know that all of this is available in a breath. Actually, in that precious, sacred moment which lives between the ebb and flow of our holy breath. It is there, in this very moment. Breathe in, see green, feel love; Feel this love, this magnificent mercy, this ultimate forgiveness, this recognition and honor and reverence and awe, let it begin to fill your very heart, let it beat your heart for you, pumping this love, this unconditional, holy love, through your very veins, and out the energy then can radiate, a glorious egg, and galaxy a star system, finally connected, finally home, finally part of your family again.

It is available in this moment, and in this moment, and in this moment. It is there, waiting for you to get weary enough, for you to be willing to stop scaring yourself to death all the time, in that stillness, between action and reaction, when thee is just that moment, once in a while when you just know this is all this a show, just a play, in that moment of stillness, of questioning whether something bigger might be at work, you can breathe in this ever present gift of energy now available to all of us, each and every one of us, regardless of circumstance, regardless of history, regardless of previously held beliefs. It’s there, and there, and there. Here, and here, and here.

Take it into that part of your heart long sealed, surprisingly, now, door off hinge, splinters only, lying on the floor, no door, just the next adventure, just the next incarnation, right here, right now, sitting where you are, doing what you are doing, in this moment, as is.

Last night, I traveled to that scene in Lord of the Rings, high in the mountains, sky thick with pastels and pleasure and magic. I knew from there I could go anywhere. I took my ease there. I rested.

Below me I found a wooden bridge spanning two mountains. Below was unmeasurable emptiness. The monks told me that to travel on this bridge was an honor, a test, a privilege, a question I am posing myself.

I then found myself halfway across the bridge. Between me were two huge mountains. I was suspended over nothingness incarnate, nothingness so real I could fall into it.

I became overwhelmed by the enormity of it, and the weird fragility of being in a body and in this position.

I leaned over the rope handrail, and found I could not keep myself from falling. I told them, again, in awe, that I felt compelled to fall into it, that I didn’t think I could right myself and stay upright again. They smiled and told me I’d had a lot of practice with this, I’d given myself countless dreams to get comfortable with complete abandon, complete, complete, complete surrender.

And then I fell, head first, into the abyss.

The next thing I knew, I realized that I could create all sorts of scenarios on the side of that mountain I’d started from. I created a rainy Paris twilight, sitting at an outdoor cafe, alone, drinking strong coffee and anticipating a cheese platter. Then I got bored, and thought of a picture I’d reblogged on tumblr, Minneapolis at night. I tried it out, and sure enough, I could be there. I just looked, didn’t poke around a lot, but noticed that I didn’t have to do a lot of the usual traveling stuff to get the being of the place. I didn’t have to do it piecemeal. Being on that street, I got it, whole.

And then I considered what I want in my life, where to I want to go, what would I like to have this flesh, these eyes, experience, in moments of physicality. What do I most desire, what resonates best.

I had some adventures, events kept occurring, blah blah blah. All of these adventures were interesting but it was just very slow, it seemed, and quite tedious in some respects, but integral to the whole. So all was done in all earnestness. But then came the scene that I think, on considering at depth, is perhaps a memory.

I just sense that this is from a scene from long, long ago, before dinosaurs, before many many many things we now take for granted, things we know to be absolutes and laws. So, that brings me a singular peace. And, I think it’s wise to note that I have a complete suspension to outcome at this point. How things look or how they appear to others, that is not the point. The point is realizing that I cam creating this whole thing, and I am therefore responsible to everyone to be honest and kind, to use my power appropriately, to assist others as much as I can. How that all shakes out, I know not. That’s the fun part about amnesia. Discovering all the things you planned to gift yourself with after a long long battle.

Such symmetry. Such poetry.

So here is the scene that I came to, that I carved out on that mountain being lit up by a sunrise making the very air the color of a Maxfield Parrish painting come alive, being within an altered state of color and wonder and beauty and celebration. Here is the place, one of the places I go, to soothe myself when I feel alone or desolate. This time the place was populated, but I want to acquaint you to it first.

It is in the valley of the 10th Mountain Division just outside of Leadville. I have known this to be my home since I first encountered it. I stumbled onto it because I saw, driving along an undiscovered (to me) strip of road between Leadville and Vail, on one of my solitary drives, below and to the right was an impossibly massive meadow, teeming with sheep.

Sheep are, to me, the holiest of animals. They are gentle, they are submissive, they are the ultimate reminder of how important it is to be kind to one another, the sacrificial symbol to never misuse your power. And there, below me, was a valley full of them.

I drove my red VW bug right into the middle of that valley. There was a strip of concrete road, which ran past an anemic creek. I nudged the car forward, forward, forward, and slowly, slowly, I edged toward a huge boulder, sitting on a hill, surrounded by these creatures of love, of sacred neutrality.

I sat on that rock for hours, listening to the lambs talk to one another. Commenting on the color of the sky, the girl on the rock, the smell of brother fish in the air, the gritty goodness of this grass, try this stuff over here, ooh, yes, I enjoy a good thistle now and then too.

I got so sunburned that people commented on it for a while. It had been the first sun of the season, and I am so white that I burn, blister and then freckle. I had not anticipated sitting on a rock, in the sun, at two miles in elevation, for hours and hours, so my face was a mess for a while. And that was perfectly fine.

I have never had to go too far, since that experience, and subsequent experiences, to gain a sense of peace and belonging. Sometimes I forget to do it. Such a pity when that happens. Peace is a breath away, it is a mere picture away.

There is an outcropping of rocks, which stand over, loom over, the campsite that I later discovered was part of this area. I have always called these rocks the watchers. They are my brothers. I have always known this to be true, and I truly do not know what it means. All I know is that these rocks are my brothers, my seers, my watchers, my guardians. There it is. They are my guardians. Always have I known it. They introduced themselves to me as I made it out of that valley that first time, sunburned and abstracted, turning right, toward what I called home, I saw them, and knew I was home.

Anyhow, that’s where I found myself in meditation, and I was in our house. We lived in the valley. We had a community. We all were leaders, we all were helpers. We did it all, food, shelter, clothing, always open to travelers, a community of respect and dignity and honor and unconditional love and high regard.

We start each day at sunrise, we share our understandings, our dreams, our visions, our awarenesses. We nourish ourselves, we feed each other. We give thanks. Then we do as we must/wish to keep everything in harmony, everything in balance. We gather sporadically throughout the day, and this is less to hydrate or nourish or relieve ourselves, but instead, to consult with someone who can assist, with an understanding, or a question, or an interpretation of a thought. There is much sharing and communication and love shared. And at sunset, we gather again, now to review, to give thanks, to worship the creator of it all, to remind ourselves that there is always more. More mercy, more knowledge, more wisdom, more kindness, more tenderness, more intimacy, more ease.

And then I found myself on the porch of our house.

My son was older, and we had all been through much, many high adventures and happy, thrilling moments, rediscovering our identities. But there was my son, as he’d done in my living room a few nights ago now in front of the house, on grass, mountains yawning in the background, keeping ancient time to his rhythms, he begins to rock, sway, gesturing arms and legs in complete balance, complete grace, pure focus, unfettered joy, complete strength, power through selflessness, an undiluted, enhanced, mischievous, playful, wickedly wise man.

He morphed from the form of my son to his true form, that of an old, old sage, bald, long white hair, long white beard, long fingernails and toenails. Ancient and ever new, old man and young child, asian, caucasian, and the galaxian skin he always insists he can feel. There, on our lawn, running such light, deciding because he had nothing better to do that it would be very gratifying to bless this spot, right here, with the great gift of stirring up mother earth to comply with energetic loving blessings.

And I sit with my friend, rocking in chairs, knowing all is well with the world, because all is right within me, there is bliss and clarity, wisdom and deep compassion, everything is somehow made from and through this great compassion, this great curiosity and the utter bliss of having every question, every doubt, every hint of dissonance satisfied beyond comprehension.

This is the bliss I knew.

That is the bliss I know now.

It is not true that this is a feeling that I can now long travel from. This is my natural state. This is our natural state! This is nirvana, it is heaven on earth, and it only gets better from here. And it matters not how it looks like in the here and now, because this new reality is now, in this heartbeat, a more expansive reality is available.

I understand now that this work was to stand as a chronologic passing of a person from one state into another, a step by step approach to just one person’s realization of her/him/itself. Yes, there will always be times of constriction, because that is how the universe breathes, but they are nothing but rests, times for stillness and gratitude. Because the energetic work that is being done is so fast and pure and strong anymore, that the constrictions which literally used to take me years now just take hours. Hours. And I am back.

I think it is true what Bashar says about excitement. Whenever anyone approaches him with the age old question, “What is my purpose?” he counters with, “What is your highest excitement?” The Teachers used to always ask me if it “lit me up,” and advised that I do only those things which light me up from the inside. That this is the best standard as to whether I should or should not be doing something.

They also gave me some advice you might find useful. I was, I think, in a crappy job, and really miserable. Whatever the situation was, I remembering asking them how to know if or when it was time to bail.

They laughed and said I do have a tendency to stay a little too long at the fair, and that leads to much unnecessary discomfort. They told me to evaluate it like this: when in the situation which causes distress, become very aware of all that is occurring, staying as neutral as possible. Watch the very interactions or reactions which usually cause pain. Just observe. Take notes if you have to. Who says what to whom how whatever comes to mind. Go for it.

Now, ask yourself, given these circumstances, these actions and reactions and events, what do you think a totally compassionate, completely rational and sane and clear and true and an anciently, deeply wise person would feel, about themselves, and about the others involved? How would someone super deep and really cool read the situation, and what do you think they would say to you about how you’re seeing it. Have a talk.

Then, when out of the situation, become highly aware of how you are feeling. Feel it all. Feel out and through each cluster of situations you’ve got going on, all the different activities and identities, and think it through, is the unpleasantness in just one area, or is it pervasive? The situations without this distress, are they plentiful?

Are there discrete boundaries to where the energies and communications change, or is it all one tableau of discomfort? If you can sense the boundaries encasing the discomfort, then deal specifically with that situation. Ease your way. If there are no such boundaries, then treat the whole mess as a clue you need to work inside. No change in setting is going to fix this, no need to disrupt what you really need to do by moving or changing jobs. If it’s in all settings, it’s an inside job, and changing a variable would just delay the lesson at hand.

I am uncertain what happens next. I’ve had an idea for a novel, and, much to my surprise, it’s coming true before my eyes, so I think that is the next project.

I let this journal stand as my clear and true testament to how much I love God, how much I value myself, and how much I honor you. I could never lie to any one of us . I could never boss any one of us. Each of us true and strong, each one of us standing within our own ancient and mysterious heritage, more complicated and simple than we’ve been brave enough to guess.

I don’t know where I go from here, so I will spend quiet moments, moments between the events which will always, it seems, occur, sitting in my rocker, holding hands, watching my sweet ancient son bless this earth and all in whom she wells with a peace and a knowing which can only, in the end, allow a quiet smile, a gentle sigh, and a silent, sacred, still word of thanks.

Who knows what, of any of these crazy meditations, “come true?” I leave you with a thought I continue to ponder, and am beginning to cherish. I am beginning to think that once one has had such big thoughts, such big happinesses, in a meditative state, and having this bliss then begin to translate in a variety of interesting and pleasing forms in physical reality, I am beginning to think this concept of excitement, and the old Mayan highest value of joy, I think this is a good barometer to going forward.

I find now that I no longer begrudge having to pull shifts for money, and I feel completely and utterly certain huge changes are in the offing. I will dutifully tend to my life as faithfully and as mindfully as I can. And I will take one moment, one day at a time. I do have an idea of where I want to go, but I have no idea how it will wind up looking, and who, if anyone, I will be privileged to share the story with, and I am fine with not knowing. Surprise me.

Go ahead. I’m ready. Chills and spills, but, gently now, I’m tired and old now, so go easy, let’s do this in order, let’s have fun with it but let’s go easy, and let’s make it real, real simple anymore. That’s the other clue you left yourself, you smart ass. When it just locks in place and is just ridiculously easy, then just trust I, because that’s you making fun of yourself for having made it so goddamn difficult for so fucking long, for fuck’s sake.

So, I keep thinking, once I have experienced something in meditation, does it even really need to become manifest? How necessary is it for things to come forth, and how does that work? Who, what, how is it decided what gets lived out? That is, I think, my next koan.

I guess that’s where I’m going to go, from here.

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