Deeply Awake — Real 11-8-12 By Kathy Vik

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I could go on and on about what is going on with my new job, and how I feel about it all, but I have no interest. It’s just another set of circumstances, these better than those that have come before, and there will be lots of nice people today on my first day, and it will be surprisingly easy and effortless to work there.

OK, now that that is done, let’s get on with the real reason we are here: Do you ever, even after watching a real good video on youtube, or reading something really inspirational, do you ever just look around, shake your head, and just simply refuse to believe all this stuff about energy and shifts and change is even real?

Does it ever just sneak up on you, that your beliefs are unusual, not held by most, and could be 100% wrong? What if it is all wrong.

Now, these waves of doubt used to hit a lot harder than they do now. And thankfully, I now have a few months of evidence, so that when the doubts come up, I can list all the things that are irrefutable and totally opposite what could and should have happened.

I am uncomfortable today. I am wearing a dress, worried about what I will encounter at my new job today, wondering just how I might wind up screwing this up, wishing I had a more comfortable bra, just wishing I wasn’t so lazy and retarded.

A low self-esteem day. Didn’t get enough done around the house, and that is bringing me down so low, just such a drag on me. It is painful, this process, and I hate it.

I am unhappy today. Out of sorts. Angry. Apprehensive. Sick and tired of being so goddamned poor, sick and tired of my circumstances, tired of it all, the dreams, and that they have to be dreams, that all these fine happy thoughts in my head remain just that, thoughts, being thought by a frame with an uncomfortable bra and a bad attitude.

I know somewhere around here is some peace. I know it cannot be far away, it never is, and I’d love it if all my missives were from the mountain, but once in a while there’s the return to base camp, and I fill my bags with doubts, fears, disquiet, anger. It’s still there, waiting for me to partake, and I saw its ragged mouth flapping in the breeze, so a reached in, up to my elbows I went into that burlap bag of failed attempts and discomfort, and I pulled out an armload of constriction.

I have heard that “we lightworkers” when we are feeling crappy, should take heart, because we are transmuting emotions for the group, and one reason we take things as hard as we do is that we are like traveling transmuting stations.

I heard it explained that shamans died young a lot of the time because they took the heavier energy within themselves, then transmuted it, and that takes its toll . I was told that in this day and age, it is important to use self as a tool for transmutation, but to realize that one’s energy is under one’s sovereignty, and someone else’s energy need not be physically taken in to transmute.

Interesting concepts.

So today I walk into the world of EKG’s and bustle, emergencies and pseudo-emergencies, the world of can-you-take-another-admit, and where are your black and blueberry scrubs? The world of 10cc preloaded syringes, Vitamin A (Ativan) and Vitamin H (Haldol), the world of cor’s and tests and family members being stupid and patients being addicts and nurses being overwhelmed because they are overworked.

Welcome home.

And this morning, anxious enough to feel the need to write even before I hit the door, I just need to be reminded of what is real.

I survey what has occurred for me since January, and I sit back stunned.

I have accomplished more than I thought I ever would. I did it blind, without goal setting, without a plan.

Off all pharmaceuticals, 100 pounds lighter, happy most of the time, a pile of writing under my belt, yes my house is a wreck, but look at what I have accomplished!

I have found web sites where others really get the ascension thing, and I have met some people who know more about all this stuff than I.

Wow. Look at all this!

I have gotten into an interesting cycle, one which I will have to break soon. I wake up, take care of Sam, send him off to school, spend a couple hours writing, and then spend the rest of the day skating.

I have been canceled a lot, so I have not had to mingle with others during this time of great energetic influxes. I have been over here, set apart, dangling, experiencing, knowing, consolidating.

And today I reenter the world.

And I am nervous.

But I am not nervous in the way I used to be. I still find I have a little catch, a little bit of a shocked in-breath every day when I lock my door. This is the day, I hear a voice say. This is the day. The day for what, I never know, but as I turn the key, “This is the day.”

I go out there, flying without a net, unaccustomed to jostling with others who don’t see things as I do, don’t understand what I understand, have never stopped to consider how very precious and strong and competent and good they are.

To say there is no difference is being disingenuous. I will meet lots of people today, and most of them will be focused on things I may not even understand.

And I’ll be over here, with stars in my eyes and kindness in my voice, smile on my face, just trying to get it figured out, knowing that what I am looking at is not an impossible thing to master, remembering all the other times I had success doing very similar things.

It’ll all come back to me.

And I will return home this afternoon with a few experiences under my belt, maybe a couple new friends made, and will cook Sam food, do laundry, tidy up, watch TV, go to sleep early.

It is a simple life, and I don’t know why I get all twitterpated.

It’s just that, for all the changes, all the improvements, sometimes, it’s easy to sneak back to base camp and partake in all the stuff I used to, inferiority, fear, comparisons, unkindness, all the stuff that just makes it hard to be here. Man’s inhumanity to man. You don’t have to be in a camp to feel like the whole world has gone absolutely bananas.

I can’t say that all I will concentrate on today is the light. I think that’s silly. I will concentrate on making it through a day of new places and faces and sounds and smells the best I can, with as much good humor as I can, but I know that I will somehow forget this particular calm, this simple peace, until I am once again able to sit in my chair, feet up, bra off, in my nightgown, home.

Then what is real will seem real again.

In the world of men, I am often lost in translation. I will do my best today to speak up, smile, approach it all with humor and grace, and just play. Play I can do. It’s assigning bigger meaning to these meaningless things that I want to avoid. Most of what I see today I don’t have to keep with me, it will not apply.

It’s been nice, being off, as hard as it is on my nerves, because I get to tailor make my reality to fit my mood. It’s all very fluid and self-indulgent.

Today I move from that realm and re-enter one which does not give a damn what I think, how I feel, or how I am coping. It cares about how well I comply, how well I solve problems within the very construct of their creation, and how pleasant I can be. How much crap I will take. Good thing that I know how to be a good little soldier.

And I can do this, for a while longer, be a good soldier. Realize that it is all very nice but not entirely applicable, or applicable in a way stuff usually isn’t.

I will go out there today. I will put on a happy face, because deep down I really am happy.

And I will take along my usual expectations. That I may be pleasantly surprised today by a stranger. That my good comes in expected and in unexpected ways. That I might make a friend. That anyone who is mean has their own problems, and it’s nothing personal. That I am just one cog in a huge machine, and it really is ok to not squeak. Not squeaking is appropriate a lot of the time. Wait to get home to squeak.

I woke up happy, in the middle of yet another download. But then I began to wonder just what, after all is said and done, is real? Is all the growth work that I have done, is that real, or is the world of worrying if I’ll be late, not having the proper paperwork, learning how to talk to all the machines that will help me do my job, the one I must now inhabit, is that the real one?

Maybe it just comes down to realizing that I don’t have to make a choice between this gossamer and sequined reality I inhabit on my days off, and the gritty reality of an urban hospital.

Today, I will remind myself of my truth just as often as I see fit. I will wear a thumb ring today so that whenever I see or feel it, I will be reminded of my meditations, my guidance, my miracles.

And I will be the old sage in the room, the one who doesn’t speak much, but has a lot to say, the quiet grown up everyone just naturally turns to when the group faces a question or a problem.

I will carry on, and try to remember, carry with me, the great love and enthusiasm these words often reveal.

I will carry on, and I will try to remember to remind myself of just what is, I think, real.

A silly idea, really.

It’s all real.

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