Deeply Awake — Integration 9-16-13 By Kathy Vik
A few days ago, something happened, and because I did not write it down, I can’t remember the details, just in waking consciousness, so that is why I am taking to the page. Things like this have a way of shaking loose when I write. So here’s hoping what happened will present itself, slippery sucker.
All I remember about it was being told, “Observe this next part. Everything has changed. You will have evidence. Observe this next part.” sort of a Vadery quality, otherworldly now, rather than taking back what happened whole. Maybe I had a lovely conversation with a turbaned dude over a hookah. Dang it, I wish I could remember the details.
Well, I will not harp on my current amnesia, not wanting to solidify an already jacked up awareness.
So I move on.
On the way home from dropping Sam off at school, I was talking to myself in my car (my honest-to-God most favorite pastime in the whole wide world… I admit it. I am an avid, enthusiastic, but very sneaky car-talker!) about punishment, murderers and the darkness we have all battled into freaking submission, finally.
I had just read about a woman who called the sheriff when she finally figured out that everyone her husband was in relationship died tragic deaths from which he prospered, and he’d just taken a big policy out on her. He’d crushed his son with a truck, propped on a faulty jack, he then confessed, over drinks at a restaurant.
Now, I bring this up because I think it is good to shed some light on such a thing. I had been thinking about prisons, you see, about punishment, really.
I began to imagine that the murderous father and the slain son were, in fact, deeply in love and in honor when this whole thing went down. The son agreed to become a bit of an urban parable, as most of these things feels like, to me, anymore. The son agreed to demonstrate, with great love, how inappropriate and wrong thinking such behavior is, and how it just can no longer stand. A young man, murdered for money by his father. Makes you weep a little, right?
See, I am thinking that maybe these parables are here to show us how much things are changing. This sort of thing happens enough to make a whole tv channel out of it, or actually, quite a few, but one in particular plays nothing but endless loops of this sort of story, these sorts of extremes.
And so it is easy to ride the fear train, and use these stories of great tragedy as proof of how each of us is fragile and unsafe, unprotected in a chaotic and ravenous, murderous world.
You can go that route. I did. I was in love with murder books at times.
But I see things differently now, and I no longer believe that anything is anything but benevolent, and all that we are aware of are simply beautifully, powerfully moving and lyrical stories we are telling ourselves.
And from there, there came a great understanding.
Here it is.
This idea that life is best seen as allegory, metaphor, poems, to me this is the only way to live. Metaphor, written in light, through emotion and action. Because, honestly, if I am taking the great liberty of personalizing meaning from someone else’s pain, which I guess I am, but I guess we each do it, then, is it not wise to apply this to my own life?
So, this means I really can tell myself any story I choose about anything in my reality. That is true. And down some of those corridors madness lurks, I tell you. I have worked with those who know they are lizard people, know they have babies growing in their stomachs, men I mean, some who have known that they were dead, physically dead but somehow walking around, and some know other, darker, weirder, even more improbable things. And some act out their knowings.
So it is important to not be too entranced by darkness, to know who and what you are, to know your own vibrational signature, so you can hear it singing out when the gales started ripping across your coast. It is important to know that which is loving and that which is not. Know that which is warm, compassionate, merciful, generous, expansive, safe, gentle, tender, kind, within you, all on your own, because that too lurks, down all the corridors, really.
Those monsters that bar the door sometimes, they are paper tigers, meant to send you running, meant to keep you from exploring what lies just beyond, the light. Home. Source. Love. Creativity. Benevolence. The desire for all beings to know peace, to experience tranquility, for their burdens to be removed, for there to be relief.
How can you not get there, once you see that fear is just a test we built for ourselves, a manifestation of the dark, of polarity, of duality.
It made me think of Ted Bundy. Let me say this, ok? Let’s not hold fear here, ok?
Ted was visually beautiful. Physically, and magnetically. I will tell you, as he was hitchhiking out of Colorado, I heard the news bulletins. Mom told us about this madman, as he was heading out of Denver, although we’d been briefed on his brutality, as he was a bit of a Colorado legend. I remember being afraid that night.
Remember, if you lived in the 70’s, as a young girl, do you remember the looming sense of a predator? Remember being taught self-defense, how to hold your keys, your body, your thoughts, if attacked. This training continues, because this barbarism continues.
I think Bundy was serving as another urban metaphor. The victims agreed to send a message… this life of normalcy, of predictability, of keeping the lid on real, real tight, and chasing after a pretty much pre-chosen existence, it is not normal. It is of duality. And it is coming down.
I think that’s what they were saying, at least for me, and those murder books always were just screaming to me, “Things and people are not what they seem!”
And that is, indeed, accurate, but it is a thing of the past, a trick of the dark, to couch such a profound truth in such fear. Just drenched in fear and anguish and misunderstanding.
What was lurking, and what I think these serial killers and lords of chaos still running around, what they might be saying has changed, or maybe their message is just being interpreted differently.
I think we see enough of these folks going off the rails and begin to see that we need to start talking with one another. We need to stop alienating and hurting one another, right in your own neighborhood. We need to start connecting and stop fearing one another.
The truth is we are not what we seem. Our duality has chosen to interpret that in dark terms, sometimes, and we all have known these manifestations.
The truth is far grander. We are beings of such creativity and power that we can bring to this earth, for our experience, the darkest of the dark. It is a choice, and that is all. It is our choice. This is a great truth. We are not what we seem. We are creators, having a romp. Telling scary stories, some of us.
And we are telling ourselves scary stories to get the point, just to get the point, just to see the contrast and finally start seeing things just a little bit more benevolently, a little more leaning toward good outcomes, rather than bad ones.
But I like what Kryon said about this year, that it is a year of resolution. Resolution. Situations that have always just been tottering, and have been seemingly untenable, unsolvable, unknowable. Resolution. And sometimes resolution is messy. It really is. Resolution can infer destruction. It sure can. And many are having these types of experiences. What pushes people to do what they do, these outrageous things that humans do to other humans?
I submit that if we, each of us, tried it out, just tried looking at their own lives as if it is an epic poem, or a story that we are thoroughly focused on and committed to, that we have invested everything to see it through, each of us might begin to feel a little better about the whole ball of wax.
Great literature has themes, you know? They are core, these themes, and they are the things each of us are working on here. I do think many of us, all of us, can pare things down and come up with some core themes that we see playing again and again in out lives, in big ways and in small, and it is by looking at the patterns that we being to decode just what it is that we currently think of ourselves, our lives, our endeavors. We begin to tease out just what it is that someone would HAVE TO BELIEVE to be aware of what you are aware of in this now moment, and this one, and that one, and all of them together.
Someone who has begun to engage themselves in such a conversation is going to be far too preoccupied with that conversation than to want to go out and be mean to others.
It is impossible to hurt others when you love and respect yourself.
And so, it is brutish to bring up and brutish to think upon those past acts of barbarism, those brutal, blood-drenched poems we used to chant to ourselves, even in our sleep.
I think I will never again have to think on these things in any way but as someone who sees things differently. The news doesn’t distress me, really, because, it is all metaphor, it is just us having deep and profound conversations with ourselves and one another, about meaning and value.
It is the dear dark, our creation, our companion, our test, who has done nothing but dumbly stagger through our consciousness, spilling into our reality with blood and bullets, for far too long.
It is time to put down the weapon, and take a good long look at the miracle that cradled it.
Observe, really observe this hand, this creation which is so profound to be, at its core, unexplainable.
I have lived many years feeling greatly unloved and misunderstood. During those years, the light was dim. Very dim. And once in a while, sometimes only once a year, I would have some glimmer of hope. Someone would be nice to me, someone would be generous. And during those years I lived as a pauper, as a beggar, turned away, always being turned away in those years.
And they prepared me for what I can tell you is a fact. It is ok to be pressed so hard, squeezed so much, that no light feels like it is shining.
It helped me to come to know that to shine whatever light I have, when I am not constricted, upon my brothers and sisters who are constricted, that is the only merciful thing to do. To love the unlovable.
Love Them Any Way, this has been my message form the ethers form time to time, real strongly, especially when working in dark environments, with dark people. Love Them Any Way!!! Like an admonition that would ring in my ear, and start making me feel stronger.
I know what it feels like to be abandoned and unloved, scorned, by those I honor. It turns everything upside down, and makes life very hellish.
In that pain, people do dumb, desperate things.
The cure, I found, was something outside my awareness, although the capacity was always as obvious as the nose on my face. I had been playing a little game with myself. It sucked, and I am glad it’s over, but from it comes great compassion for those who feel alienated from themselves and from others.
It’s not those who are “doing things right” or living comfortably that we need to be giving love to. I mean, they deserve it too, everyone does, but some folks are putting along just fine.
The angry ones, the ones who are so passive-aggressive it can just drive you nuts, the ones who are just clinging to drama, the depressed ones, the suicidal, the grieving, these are states folks live in for a long time sometimes, and what can get them past, through it, and maybe on to even more self appreciation, is my, your, our appreciation.
Something Kryon said that has really helped me.
He said, in this energy, if your filters are clear, if your light is pure, you can get right into the aura, look right into the eye of even the most unbalanced individual, AND YOU WILL NOT BE AFFECTED. The light we are running is that strong. The dark turns tail. The dark is dumb.
The dark peddles fear and alienation and fosters abandonment of hope. The dark is dumb. It doesn’t know what we know. The dark is from the light. It is just a law of physics. It is a manifestation of energy on a planet which is in lesson, in duality. It is not the enemy, and it certainly is not personal. As Kryon says, do you take gravity personally? Do you take magnetics personally?
Playing with the dark is the way we have been telling ourselves stories. We have used it like contrast on the canvas, and that is all. It is a construct, it is a choice, it is not the enemy, really, and it is not a friend. It is an energy.
So giving our light to those whose light is just flickering, just a low flicker, that is wise and cannot harm us. We are safe, we are in touch with such tremendous love, such tremendous wisdom, how can we not have great love for those around us who labor under such false beliefs, the lies we have been telling ourselves for centuries.
I can talk about this because I have seen it work. I have seen it work in my own life, and when giving it, how it works in other people’s lives. I know how I blossomed with some care, with some good will, with being held in high regard, regardless of my behavior, regardless. Being seen as good when nobody else did, this healed and changed me.
So that is why I think telling myself compassionate stories about myself and those around me is not a bad thing. Seeing lovingly and loving those who are in my face, that’s such a blast anymore. Watching me twist and get red in the face when initially encountering someone who is just so difficult, such a pistol, and then watching them relax when they see that I love them, that I think they are capable and strong and clever and beautiful. Folks relax. I relax.
So I will tell you, to close, of a weird thing that happened to me long ago.
It’s sort of a two parter, and really weird, so extra points if you hang with this til I feel complete.
When I was a girl, we would go to Village Inn after church on Sundays. One Sunday, in the lobby, while waiting for a table, I became aware of a really really bad smell. I was immediately filled with terror, a sharp, tangy sort of terror, and the smell was so acrid, just nauseating. I understood that this was coming from someone in the restaurant, so I took a look around, and there, across the place was a young man, maybe 15, and he was very very handsome, and he was helping a young girl to come sit next to him, and I was again just flooded with a sick, sick feeling. I somehow managed through that meal… I had no recourse but to stay and eat, being a kid, but it was awful, I tell you.
It haunted me. That feeling came from time to time after that. When I heard a song, when I would see a singer or actor or celebrity’s face. To this day, there are some movies I can’t watch because one of the actors has this effect on me.
What I find is this feeling is sort of magnetic. If I let it get ahold of me, it will then come in waves, often for weeks at a time. It is exhausting having it around, because it has a component of sheer terror. Not about or toward anything, just that feeling state and that horrible smell.
When I was working with The Teachers in the 90’s it came to pass that one of our patients made me feel this way. Many patients have had that effect on me, especially psych patients, but this guy, I had to find peace with it, because it was a nursing home, I was the director, and I could not stand him, and couldn’t turn him away because of a feeling I had. But, the truth is, I told The Teachers in desperation, because I wanted to quit working there. I couldn’t hang with ten, twelve hours exposure to this.
Once again, up close and persona;, was another one of these people. They are so magnetic, so attractive, often, and so dark. So very very dark.
So I went to The Teachers with this conundrum. I had never told anyone of that Village Inn experience, until I gave it to The Teachers to make sense of.
They told me that there are certain ones here who are very entranced with the dark. They are primitive, and they feed off of primitive emotions. Emotions are their food, and they thrive on strong emotion. Fear works best, but any disturbance in the field will do. They are lords of chaos, they thrive on stirring things up emotionally within others, and then they enjoy the feeling states others have as a result of the event, and on it goes for them.
They told me that the thing to do if ever I feel this, is to run light. You talk to the entity, is how They put it, you talk to them and say, “This behavior is not welcome here. You are not welcome within, and cannot disturb me. I am off limits to your shenanigans. And then you blast them, The Teachers said, with light. Blast them, blast them, blast them. They instructed that you don’t have to think or feel anything when you run light. Just run white light. After you do this, you bless them and you release them, to seek their own light.
Understand that they have misunderstood a core principle, they are just off track, and see them as the loving, creative entities they are. But do not give them passage, do not invite them in. Yours is to give light, and then disengage. Always push the light out.
This is a profound principle, and I have come to see these folks not as reptilian or as some sort of alien race, I just don’t roll that way anymore. It is a powerful consciousness who has taken on some bad habits, and that is all. They have misinterpreted key data. They are not evil, they are not bad, they are profoundly seduced by a mentally challenged seductress, and that is all.
In the instance of this young man, we helped him to see that we were on to his ways, and that he was no longer allowed to do some of the things he’d been allowed to do, when everyone was afraid of him. I ran light just that once, and after that, on the way to work, I would have a quick talk with him, setting the intention with him.
And it worked.
He did well. He turned things around. He stopped dealing weed and sleeping with the aides. He stopped playing his music loud and being mean to others. He got his goodies in other ways after that.
But The Teachers made it clear, when running light like this, ours is not to tell the entity what to do with it, or to feel any emotional attachment, any pity , or to give any meaning to the behavior, really, beyond seeing that this is someone who needs light.
So does that mean, in a new energy, we throw open the jailhouse doors? And how, who, decides who is guiltless? The guy who had a thing for insurance money, intervening seemed more than appropriate, since his behavior was predictive, really.
But there will come a more enlightened humanity, whose first response is not to crack skulls or conquer, whose ways are not barbarous, and whose demeanor is still and ever loving.
To reconcile what we have known, and these newer chaotic parables of our present, I think, for me, the way is to see it all as a kaleidoscopic adventure in consciousness. I don’t have to engage in the extremity, and look forward to no longer having to view it, but when it pops onto my news page or onto a facebook post, there it is, best to acknowledge it, send the situation love and light, light, light always light, and then, I can feel my heart get more expansive, and I walk a little taller, and I know I have done good. I have done something good, something I know how to do.
I know how to hold you in high regard, no matter what it is you have done, or think you have done, that is so far beyond shame that it dare not be spoken. We all ride around with ugly. So what. It can be spun off, blasted away, loved into wholeness, seen for what it is, integrated.