Deeply Awake — Rehearsal 11-4-12 By Kathy Vik

Image result for pillars of light gif



No wonder, I am being canceled a lot lately. Nature’s way of saying I need to accept the regular job, but more than that, being off was essential to work with this incoming energy. Such pure shots of it have we been getting. Surprising we aren’t all walking around with nosebleeds.

When I am anticipating working a night shift, I hunker down, stay in my jammies, putter and mutter around the house, easily flitting from one light pursuit to another. Often I do not write, because doing so creates a disturbance in the field, chops and rearranges and redefines stuff, creates new arenas of sound and possibility. It’s just too much sometimes.

So yesterday, I read a little, watched a little TV, but really felt very flat. Under the surface, things were happening, and all I had to do was just try to go to sleep. Yeah, just try it. Ha!

I laid down around 1pm, and kept getting swept into this subject and that pursuit online. Hard to settle my mind on any subject, everything feeling just a little much, a little too much, not in an, “Ooh, I am overwhelmed and just can’t TAKE anymore!” way, nope, more like just not being able to find one thought, or family of thoughts, that would just let me get quiet.

I finally gave in.

By that time, I only had about an hour and a half to get rested for a twelve hour night shift. So I said, commanded, that I would get full physical rest and benefit from this sleep, and I would find some peace in my mind, and return to the body integrated… now, on your mark, get set, GO.

Yeah. Did feel rested upon awakening, I will say that. But everything else was unexpected.

Ever envious of the more creative among us who fly astrally and dream lucidly, I had never been outside of my body before, never seen that fabled tether, until yesterday.

I closed my eyes and almost immediately I felt spinny, and the voices came, and there I was being coached to leave my body and come along. I saw a shimmery plasma-like connection between me and what I was then deeming my “flesh.”

The split was real, and they coached me to not get too caught up in any one thought or visual, and to expect nothing, just allow the experience, fall into it, allow it to be exactly what it is.

I failed, and wound up slammed into my body.

They pointed out that wasn’t entirely so, and it is then that I saw and felt that I was hovering maybe six inches above the body, was not in it, and didn’t have to return to it, that I hadn’t failed.

There was a round of celebration, laughter, and I got up, and walked with them then.

I told them I wanted to go to a ship.

It was then that I got a taste of this hyper-reality travel I have heard so much about. That idea that you can just think yourself somewhere and there you are. I thought of my destination, one that I had visual coordinates for (I’ll explain below). Then I could feel a lengthening, and movement, elongation and stretching and becoming a long impossible ribbon of light, and then, I was somewhere else.

I don’t have visuals of that place. I was surrounded by loved ones, though, and it felt pretty real, I mean, there was no observer, sitting in the upper left corner of the ceiling saying, “God, this is SO cheesy.” None of that sort of split awareness. I was really there.

I wish I could write to you a love letter from home, a few bars from an ancient melody which would dispel our fears and break all the rumors’ backs. But I don’t. It was family time, I guess. I don’t know.

But then came a very amazing event.

I was on Earth, but I was a column of light. There were four of us, stationed at perfectly coordinated geometric points, and one by one, in unison, we stood up. We greeted each other as the awakened greets the sun. And then other shafts of light began to pop up. Twelve, then 24, then 36, then 122, then 144. We were able to hold hands, or hearts, energetically.

And then the narration began.

I started to state a prayer, a proclamation. I felt everyone’s energetic permission to sort of coax or coach the energetics, to seal and protect and magnify the energy, so I used words, sound, to do this. Everyone was cool with it, and it got very intense, and a little messianic, I have to admit. And it built, and swelled, and swayed, and trembled, we all swirling within this vortex of sound, words, anticipation, knowingness.

Oh, it was heady, and it was exciting. It was all about ascension, taking on our light bodies, taking on the mantles of responsibility and wonder, discovery and awe, the new age, the old age, the timelessness of what we are creating, stuff like that.

It built, and it crescendoed, and then there was that platform of stillness the words created. The platform stayed up, sturdy, waiting for the next thing.


We all kind of looked at each other.

And then, sort of as a group, we all sort of shrugged, and said, “Oh, I guess that was another rehearsal.”

Some asked others if they’d like to go get some coffee, some cracked open a beer, a young Asian woman approached me and gave me words of encouragement, and there were no reprisals for my having spoken and it not being the main event, all around there were people of goodwill, expressing goodwill.

Here, among these wonderful people, there was just total self-acceptance, and when you are surrounded by a bunch of people who accept themselves, you notice immediately your utter lack of self-recrimination. There are no shame vibes in the air, nothing to feel awkward about. Just lots of respect and genuine love.

I could see, one by one, these lighted giants slink back down into the lighted matrix covering the earth, going small, spinning more tightly, more compact, just going back to rest.

It had been a rehearsal, and everybody was cool with that.

I woke up with little memory of that, and with a deep feeling of rest.

I was canceled, but I could only maintain for a few more hours. I have been exhausted lately, sleeping so soundly and deeply, and really needing sleep, like a thirst. Sleep, my old enemy, my longest held nemesis, finally tamed, finally working with me, for me, instead of against me.

I will tell you my sidebar story, about the ships.

I mentioned it in one of the first blogs I ever did on I think I entitled it, What If You Could Choose? I’ll mention it again because ships have been coming up a lot lately, and I think it bears some exploration.

When I was working with The Teachers, my homesickness was sometimes so acute it felt crippling. The longing I felt in me was felt in my body, a deep, deep, deep weariness that I just couldn’t shake.

They did explain to me that I came into this life tired. I had not given myself the usual rest that I prefer. I had done back-to-back lives in World War II Europe, both heart-wrenching, a lot about betrayal and the whole Holocaust, man’s inhumanity to man scenario.

They told me that timing was essential, and I felt like this was a rush job, and I was given options, and I chose this set of options. It had been between this life and the life of a black woman in the south. They told me I had not set up these lives for comfort, but for acceleration, and not fitting in.

I then was able to see me in my crib. I don’t know how they did that to me, but sometimes we would be sitting, and I’d have the sight. We were leaning over the crib, and they asked me what I was feeling.

It felt like knives, like glass, on my skin, and a deep, dark feeling of, “Oh no, oh my God, no, what have I done.”

In many ways, that soul cry of, “Oh my God, What have I done (to myself again)!” is as far as I got with The Teachers. That has been a pebble in my shoe until just recently. I didn’t let myself off the hook for being here until last week.

So, The Teachers didn’t get to explaining just HOW to transmute the detritus of this living business, they hinted at the corners of the ways in which I can tame the beasts of doubt and shame, but I was so deeply inside the matrix in so many ways, that there is a lot they simply could not share.

There was one night, during the height of my world-weariness, when, while at work, I just got hit with a ton of bricks, that I just didn’t want to be here anymore, and the thought occurred to me that I really didn’t have to stay.

I left after my shift concluded, and only made it about a mile up the road. While driving, I felt the blinding light of angry desperation, and I said out loud, “I am done. I want out. I know you can arrange this. I want out now.”

And I heard, “OK. Pull over.”

I did just that, in a convenience store parking lot. It was the 90’s, and 11:30 at night, so there were no other cars in the lot, and the lot was dark. I turned off the engine, I sat, I waited, and I listened.

And I understood that they were opening an energetic door. If I wanted to go, I could go. Basically, the message was as serious as a heart attack. Get on with it already, I was told. Just do it then, they said. We are SO tired of the bitching. Just DO it then.

I sat there, and I thought about it, and then, like an automaton, like a crazy unpredictable person, I numbly turned the key in the ignition, and I drove home in silence.

Talk about a split personality.

This troubled me, and I went to The Teachers about it. How in the world could I turn away from this opening? How in the hell could I just drive away? What is wrong with me?!

They gave me a gift then.

It was the first and the last time they did this for me. But I am ever so glad they did, and I am glad I set the whole thing up so beautifully. Wonderful co-creation.

The Teachers said that rather than discuss it, they’d like to show me something.

I got quiet, in a meditative state, and they met me there, and took me to a ship.

There was a lot of white there. They led me to a little room, all white, and told me I needed to rest, and to not feel any anxiety about when to come out, only emerge once I feel completely and utterly rested. That’s the name of the game.

When I emerged, I was in white, and I was taller than before. I met them/it at a big window.

This window looked out on the Earth, and the Earth was fairly far away.

They asked me to look and to listen.

I watched the Earth spin, and I could at first feel the cries, then I could hear them. They came from all over. Prayers for a daughter’s recovery, cries of pain from betrayal, from infirmity, from the wreckage that anger produces. All these cries, all this pain.

Then they said, you have a choice. You may stay here with us, and you can work with us from here. Or you can go back down. It’s up to you. There is a Bodhisattva energy that is available, and one that you have been ignoring. This is bigger than you.

But please appreciate the reality of this.

We cannot affect things the way you can. Your work is immediate, ours is secondary, there are layers with which we must work, energetic shells that requiring opening, so the work is not immediate, and it is not as intensely personal as what you can do.

What we can do from here is highly gratifying, and it is the way that it is. You have a choice. It is only yours to make. But you need this information. You need to know the reality of the limitations of the setups.

And I was crying by that time. I needed, no longer a want or an hypothesis, I needed to go back there and soothe the suffering. I had to go back and hold hands and dry tears and give encouragement. I had to show up. It is not an option. It must be done. It has to be done.

And here I am.

I was given a choice.

I think I visited that ship yesterday. I did feel like I was home, or at least someplace comfortable.

I wonder just who The Teachers were. Where they came from, who they belong to, what their connection is to me. I wonder how Bashar fits into it all. It feels to me like The Teachers and Bashar are energetic cousins, equals, certainly, but they have chosen to work with me in concert, twenty years apart.

Since working with Bashar, my dreams are more intense, my memories of The Teachers more intact, and connections are being made tying up this little life of mine.

In my mind, we all had an amazing dry run at ascension yesterday. Great was the energy, mighty the words bolstering the energy, helping it to rise and engulf and jump and play. And then it was over, and here we all still are.

It really was quite a sight, and I wish I could express its comic nature. It was like Moses at the shore of the red sea, and there is a little eddy, and then a vortex, and then the seas begin to cleave, looks like it’s gonna happen, and then, it’s as if Moses and everybody looking on all decide at once, as one, to bag it. Just can it.

The water is then pure glass, and everybody in their cool bumpy woolen robes, and all the bleating, disinterested sheep, and all the kids who are hungry and want to go home and eat, we all, as one, just shrug and say, well, ok, that was that. What’s next.

Ships and seas, choices and variables. This has been an interesting ride.

I will tell you, that when in the ethers yesterday, before the dry run, deep within the unified field, deep within the mysterious powers which nestle between the folds of physical reality, I put it to my family that I need help. This money thing, I am done struggling. They need to hand the answers to this koan to me on a silver platter. I am done struggling. I want ease. Pure ease. I want travel and freedom and joy and ease ease ease. Comfort. Freedom. Ease.

After the dress rehearsal, and before awakening, they dictated to me the cheekiest letter an agent ever got. They gave me the content and the tone of the letter. They told me I would be canceled and this is purposeful. Edit, and submit, and then stand back.

End of transmission.

So I guess I have a lot of dry runs under my belt.

For some reason, I am urged to share with you one other dream. One other landscape which has proven itself to be a mysterious marker of sorts. I don’t know why it is asserting itself, but I’ll give it some legs and let it walk around a little in closing.

I spent 1986 to 1992 in the tutelage of a guru named Richard. I came to him broken, and he knew it, and he, luckily, had the skills to start putting Humpty Dumpty back together. He was a devotee of Lazaris, and so I spent six years consolidating myself, working with past and future selves, concepts of the positive and negative ego, allowing my future selves to lead me in the present, allowing my present self and higher self to minister to and aid my younger selves.

I look back on it and am amazed at all the basic construction Richard consented to do on my psyche. He was such a savior in so many ways.

In his care, I came to understand that I had to divorce myself energetically from my family for a time. It was impossible for me to be in integrity and be in their presence at a certain point, because they were absolutely unwilling to admit to anything being wrong, and I was living proof that something was definitely very wrong.

Before I decided to estrange myself, I had a dream.

My mom, dad and sister and I were climbing a mountain, in order to get to the water slide-luge thing at the top. I was with them throughout the journey to the top.

We got to the top, and there sat the luge. Water cascading off the mountainside, bathing the luge, it looking like a glistening torpedo straight to hell.

I told them no, I can’t do that.

Oh the hysterics. The dramatics. The deep and absolute anger. There was some sort of tear in our energy within the dream. I stood my ground, told them no, this is not good. I begged them to not do it, that it was a really bad idea, that my decision not to go down there should be reason enough not to go, they should stand with me, this is not good.

They all looked at each other, got in, hit the mechanism, and flew off the mountain, into their doom. I knew it as soon as they took off. They were going somewhere I did not want to go, and it was done. It wasn’t good, and it wasn’t bad. It was just done. A choice had been made. It was permanent, for this lifetime, and it was real, and it was a little sad, in some respects. But it just was, above and beyond it all, it just was.

I walked off the mountain and knew I would walk the rest of my days without them.

At the time, it was a metaphor for their choosing to engage in old behavior patterns, unable to tell the truth, unwilling to stand in honesty with themselves and with The Other. However, I think that there is a bigger meaning to this particular dream.

The same neutral energy I felt when they flew off the mountain is the same that I felt after our dry run, after our rehearsal. It is not good. It is not bad. It is as it is because it is as it is. I am, and it is. So be it. How can I be out of tune with this dance? I hold the flute! It is as it is because I am that I am that I am.

Say that mantra. I am that I am that I am. Close your eyes, and feel THAT spin. There is a mountain of information contained in that mantra. It is not a repetition of words. It is an article of faith, a statement of energetic fact, and one of the keys to the kingdom.

I am that I am that I am.

We remain here, in good humor, doing amazing work just over there, just beyond this stupid veil we put up at in the middle of act two. Can someone please come over here and pull this down? We have a show to put on. We have sets to construct. That one needs some touching up, and this one over here keeps pulling at my robe every time I walk past it. There is work to be done, and it is being done by we giants in sleep, in meditation, in daily life.

I continue to listen for stage direction. They know I will do as I am told. I know now that we all are doing as we are told, as we are telling ourselves, and as we interpret the directions we’ve just gotten handed to us. All is movement and preparation and anticipation now. All is readying. All is set.

We wait. We drink a beer, share some coffee, idle with jobs and kids and letters to agents. But this show, well, it’s just about to start, and nothing else is going to seem interesting once we finally hear that magic word, “Action!”

Until that golden moment, I will rehearse with you, run lines with you, hold your hand as your watch your loved ones luge off mountains, tend to your sheep as your go get your kid a drink of water, as we wait on this hillside, waiting for the pillars of light to once again erupt in the skies, waiting for the sea to part, waiting for all of this stage direction to come to life. We know our lines. We have our markers. We know where to stand and what to say and how to say it.

It’s all about to happen, and until it does, I’ll see you at rehearsal.

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