Deeply Awake — My Paw 12-15-12 By Kathy Vik

Image result for thorn in paw  gif

 

 

Deeply Awake — My Paw 12-15-12 By Kathy Vik

I want to let you in a few miracles that are going on in my life. It has been a mixed bag, coming to this blog, I am sure, because although there is always, or nearly always, a sense of resolution with each of my essays, there is also a string which connects each to the other, and to deep issues which can be sort of painful to explore, I think. And I do apologize for that, but it’s more due to this life being weird and my very own process.

On the way up in the elevator I had a thought. It dawned on me that I never called my neighbor this evening as I had planned on doing. Her mom died yesterday, and she needs help packing. I know I can save things by an early morning call to her, and I began to think about how I would approach her, in her complicated grief.

What came to mind is that her mom did quite a feat. I know the energy now is much more pure, much more multidimensional than it was before the 12-12-12. I am clear on that point now. So, here is this 90 year old lady, who was, I guess quite the mean person, but she made it! She got over the hump! She helped, in her very own way, to play her part in the awakening of the planet. Sure, she seems to have done it through discord and disharmony, but she still contributed. God! She must be so proud! And now she gets to spend her first Christmas fully conscious in 90 years. How awesome is that?

This is not what one tells someone deep in their grief. I know that, I’m a hospice nurse. I know how to accommodate someone’s grief. But wouldn’t it be great if I could talk that way to her and be understood?

What I would tell her is what I recently read and thought upon, that many, within this ascension process, may choose to die rather than hang with what is coming. And that is because dying is a short-cut. Some people will prefer to do the short cut, go right for bliss and full consciousness, rather than do this ascension thing.

And there it was. How is ascension like death? Well, how is it not? Either you gain awareness once your body is dead and your focus can then return to reality, real reality, or you say, oh sure, I’ll do it that other way, where I die a little every day, discard pieces of my old self, shed the maya, the illusion, disconnect from samsara, and attain oneness while in a body.

So.

There’s that.

But then, that doesn’t speak to the miracles. It took riding around the city, and doing new and unusual things, for me to get some of this, but it all started when an earth angel pulled a mean, crusty, bloody thorn from my paw this afternoon.

From that time until now, I have been on a nonstop discovery cruise within my heart and psyche. I have traveled far, here in my skin, contemplating, smiling, trying new things.

I don’t really have the words to explain what is happening to me, has been happening to me since November 13. I could tell you that I am falling in love, but that would cheapen what I am now party to.

My isolation has made me incredibly insensitive in many ways. It has fine tuned my inner knowledge, but has unplugged me from much of the pain I feel when in relationship and falling short. This let me also unplug from the angst and outright stupidity that so many people avail themselves within relationship, which was a little bonus. I unplugged completely in 2003, but really, in many ways, I have never been plugged in until now.

I set this lifetime up to give myself very intense experiences in awakening. I set it all up so that I would, by this time, find myself in this weird zone of malleability of the psyche. Do not forget, I am an old psych nurse, and know a thing or two about linear psychological theory.

I am very well aware of what the experts say about personality development, their firm belief that fundamental change to one’s core personality is a sign of disease. Psychology says people never change. It says that not keeping with the program, not believing what everyone else takes for granted, that this is insane. Very limited. And here I am, at nearly 52 years of age, changing yet again, refining myself once again. I have always thought that if a very traditional psychologist got ahold of me and started digging, s/he’d come to see that I really have lived some very whole, discrete lives in this lifetime.

There is talk on the web about each of us having a “sacred wound.” Although I sort of like that phrase because it magnifies in a reverential way the crap that we have consented be done to us, I think maybe “core issue” is just as valid a descriptor.

I had a thought about two months ago that it may be entirely true that each of us really does have an elevator speech about our lives… a boiled down version you can give a boss or a handler while riding 10 seconds in an elevator. “Oh, this lifetime I chose to explore issues of power and self acceptance.” Yeah, that sort of covers it.

But, try as I have to drill down deep, deep into the core, into the center to learn the words to my elevator speech, I came up empty until today.

A friend was gracious enough to use her rod and her staff to comfort me. In the true sense of the word she became my shepherd. She could see the lay of the land, she had the tools to help me, guide me, so she allowed me to bump into her and bah and lope, slowly, toward where I needed to go, to the still waters, uncommon peace.

I’d become lost in a fantasy, completely organically grown within my imagination, of punishment and separation and abandonment. And I was honest, explained all the weird places I went with the false belief, and she sat there and helped me.

She got me to answer some simple questions. What is behind that? What word best describes what is fueling that?

And there is was.

Powerlessness.

Power.

Knowing I am fundamentally unacceptable.

Unable to accept myself.

At one point she said, “And you sat there convinced that you had been the one to have brought on the silence, that you perceive as punishment. And that until someone comes to you and tells you that you are alright, you are not alright.”

Yes. Yes. That is very true.

Oh where I have gone with that since!

I had a gentle evening of discovery. I went to a bar. I nearly did not go in, but I convinced myself that what I have been doing lately, my fall back activities, they are getting a little hackneyed. It is time to try some new things. So I decided I’d go to this particular bar. I would have one non alcoholic beer, play one game of pool, and then I would go to the store.

I looked up movie times in my car, trying desperately to keep things the way they once were, but then I told myself NO, we are going IN, drinking a near-beer and shooting pool!

And that is what I did.

Up in the loft of that cute little place, I realized that the angel who pulled that thorn out of my paw, she needs to be here. I need to be with her. That is how it is. Having her here, or being together, that would make just about anything more enjoyable, and somehow much more noble. Fuller. And as a thought on this, I could see colors more vividly, and had that old sense of being able to breathe the good air again.

And it was an idle thought. I did not get on my phone and declare this decision. I did not form a plan. I just stayed with how much happier my every day life would be if this one most special of people were here, maybe waiting at home, maybe urging me to stop being a weenie and try more pool.

I was proving, in that bar’s loft, how great it is to go on a date with me, because I can make the 50 cents it costs to play pool last for an hour. It is a wondrous thing. I thought that if she were in that bar with me, she’d be laughing, and urging me to keep on trying to knock those balls in, just keep having a great time.

So, this was a good and sturdy thought, one I was able to walk out of the bar with, and as I headed my car home, I began to consider the plan.

And now it’s pretty plain to me what I can expect. I really loved what I came up with, and then that old saying came and held my hand, encouraging me to sing out these words with all of my heart, “OK, God, everybody, listen up: that, or something better, okay?. Got it? That or something better.”

I had forgotten that phrase. The Teachers used it all the time. Set your intention, have a great idea, love that creation, send it out with a “That or something better,” and then you let it go. Completely disengage, not like you are dropping a hot plate, no, more like a celebration of the fact that it is already done.

So I stopped in the 7-11 to get a couple things for the remainder of my night, and I was buoyant walking through that store. That or something better, I kept hearing that, but something else became very evident. I was feeling taller, skinnier, and stronger. I knew, just knew, that that or something better was on its way, but more than that, that it already is. And twice, walking down the chip aisle, I muttered that right out loud. It is already on the way.

But more than that, there is this understanding: It already IS.

Walking past the row of coffee carafes, thinking about a taquito, I understood, and felt the elation related to the awareness that this perfect life of abundance and love and honor and ease, this life already exists. And I am living it. She is thinking of me and I am thinking of her. Our lives are happy, whole, full, and gorgeous. It is done. It is done. It is done.

And here comes the beauty of the work already done, mastered.

I cannot, will not obsess about this.

It is done.

And I may never experience the physical counterpart to that amazing realization that this amazing thing of beauty, an ongoing portrait of profound love, is upon me. I may never know the peace and tranquility and perfection that I experienced in the coffee aisle of the 7-11, but, really, is it even necessary? Will it wind up being a creation which does not come to fruition? Maybe. Possibly. Sure. It’s possible. But it so doesn’t matter. Because, in that aisle, I was married, going home to our house in the country, from a day spent downtown, in my office, having written some neat stuff, and having spent a couple hours just goofing off, because I can. It’s part of my process. What a great life I have. Ahh.

See, I do not see this as a delusion, or a form of psychopathology. Nope. This is me having a waking dream. Just as I had, in my pre-teen years, a dream of what a loving family really feels like, this too was a highlight, something I will be able to re-visit and gain strength from. This is not the same as obsessing. It’s more like dipping my toes in a bath that is not quite done filling up. Maybe I’ll just decide on a shower, or maybe the water won’t wind up feeling right, but, in that delicious moment of seeing everything unfurl just as you want it to, enjoying the anticipation, happy to be creating ease, that’s where I am with it.

These miracles of which I speak, they are coming in fast and loose now. Amazing feats are now my daily bread.

I had a driver’s license issue which was freaking me out. I was convinced I was going to do jail time (silly), and that this problem will make it impossible for me to celebrate Christmas because to clear up the license thing will require a cash outlay I cannot afford.

Turns out that the powers that be had been having communication issues, and the bill has been paid, letters sent and just never received, and it is just as easy as one two three to get it taken care of. No extra expense, no jail time, no drama. My job, well, turns out that it just isn’t working out, and I think it will die with a whimper, over there in the corner. I get that I may have to get one last nursing job to nicely sustain me through the next year or so, but even that doesn’t cause me to cry real tears. And my car, it is starting every single time, just as I was told it would, just as I disbelieved it could come to pass.

But the biggest miracle of all is this person who has decided that loving me is a happy endeavor. I am beginning to lose the belief that I will only, in the end, create pain and chaos for those around me. The messages I have been fed are pretty putrid. Honest to God, I don’t know where I came up with some of them. They are awful, violent, ridiculous. This firm knowing I have always had that once someone really sees me, they will turn away, they always do, they always do, well, it is not happening this time.

And that particularly awful one, that I myself am the person I love’s very worst nightmare, in the end, well, that one has had its time in the sun too. They are dumb beliefs, tricky little suckers that have been around for so very long. Only, now when these old whispers, these god-awful mantras of desolation and disappointment come up, there just is no evidence to support them anymore.

And that is what one angel did for me. She has been working on this thorn since she met me, but neither of us knew it.

Imagine that you have something within you, maybe just one thing, but it is a deeply held and deeply, deeply defended belief as to the way things are. It could be, “Things, in the end, no matter how good it looks in the beginning, never work out for me,” “My wife would divorce me if I lost my grip on our finances,” “Someone with my looks will never know physical love with someone who loves me for who I am underneath.”

Now imagine that whatever energetic manacle you have agreed to wear this lifetime is REMOVED.

And to remove it you did not have to magnetize a bunch of drama illustrating the absurdity of your absurd notion. No. Instead, you created a situation of redemption, acceptance, warmth, a place where the need to forgive, and the urge to forgive, they are fluff, non-applicable, completely unnecessary.

You created a situation where the one thing that you find repugnant about yourself is brought to your attention by someone who finds your ugly not only fascinating, but entirely captivatingly beautiful, one of your finest redeeming qualities, because it brought you here, to this moment, this awareness, this facet of you.

That’s how I feel around this person.

I have absolutely no idea if I am capable of ever doing this for her. I feel that I approach her always with a need, but really, that is not true at all. I know in my heart of hearts, when all the insecurity crap is quieted, that I am someone she chooses to be with, chooses to listen to, care for and love.

And that’s because I am someone who is lovable. I am acceptable. And, in my deepest prayers, lies the truth of it all, that I hope so much I will be able to have her come to know the peace and freedom and love she has indeed shown me. Oh how I hope I can do that!

And it is a long time in saying those words. Longer still since I believed that I am lovable. I am acceptable. Wow. I hope you can appreciate the significance of the gift this wonderful woman gave me, lovingly stroking my fur, telling me to not panic, and to stop the babbling, stop, and let another master take over.

I have done this all on my own for so very long, no one able or willing to reflect my lovability and my acceptability. My mirrors have told me I am not lovable, will never be, and that I am the polar opposite of acceptable.

My whole reality told me this for so very long. Decades. Decades. Decades.

And with one conversation, I am changed.

So, this death within my little circle of nuts, I have to say that it is a milestone, and she granted me a lovely gift. Her death catapulted me, reminding me that death and ascension are one in the same, and that death is just the short cut we use around here. We ancients are coming in to show those who have forgotten what it is like, what it looks and feels like, to be switched on without taking the short cut.

There’ll be plenty of energetic zombies to resuscitate with our knowledge and excitement. Not everyone who gets slammed with this energy is going to wake up or croak. There will be zombies. Second and third wavers who need a push. Need a miracle. Need to be spoken to as the wounded creatures they are, by those of us who have already done our time in the infirmary.

I hobbled myself when I came into this life. I have gone from point a to point zed on three of my four paws, nursing things along as best I could, not being able to keep up with my contemporaries, often made fun of for being lame, being told I was no good, would never walk right, was a liability and waste of space because I wasn’t like the others.

And I wasn’t.

Many of my contemporaries sport their thorn in less maladaptive places. Everyone who has a pulse has a thorn. A deep down certainty in something that is not correct, which leads to bad choices, dumb choices, a life that is disappointing or flat. We all have thorns.

And how elegant it is that now, I have not consciously changed my facial expression, but this miracle happened, and my reflection has changed. I see I am smiling, my reflection says so, and I know it to be true, but it was not I who sparked the change in my expression.

This is the alchemical portion of life that really just turns me on. I was given a hit of really good karma today, and someone gave to me that which I have never had, that which I despaired I would never know. It was a gift, an act of benevolence, of patience, selflessness and kindness.

So although my neighbor’s mom died before the solstice, before the big event, I understand that she didn’t really miss a thing. Yes, I had a crap day on the 12-12, unpleasant and totally disappointing on a couple of levels. But things are so different now. So different. Things are just very different now. I see miracles daily,and understand them to simply be the way things are supposed to work around here.

I don’t know where I go from here, and I do not know, won’t know until it is upon me, if what looks to be an amazing start to a heart-pounding love will turn out to be sustainable. That is irrelevant. This moment is the one that matters. This one here. The one I am living. So the alternate realities presenting themselves to me in the coffee aisle of 7-11, so be it, that’s a gas and I can enjoy them immensely. What comes next doesn’t matter.

What matters is that I am on all fours again. I am not so much walking through 7-11 as I am sleekly stalking my prey. How long has it been since I have felt whole? Where my sin is exposed for the gift it always was, where the one thing that defines me turns out to be the wrong definition of that particular word.

Breathtaking, all of this, don’t you think?

Pulling out of the 7-11, I realized that of course the only natural reaction toward someone who fixes you in so fundamental of a way is love. Just pure love, radiating out of my chest, a deep furnace of love. Of course that is the natural reaction. And further, to want to, need to, reciprocate. To give back. Because I want to keep it going. I want to make sure that the one who helped me never needs help, and I want to make the road smooth, the way easy.

This is all very pleasant to observe, playing out below, me sitting in my tree, huffing and purring and licking my newly mended, my newly healed paw. First night in ages I could climb up here to go to sleep. Nice view. I’d forgotten.

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