Deeply Awake — “A Physics Which Does Not Argue With Itself” 10-15-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — “A Physics Which Does Not Argue With Itself” 10-15-13 By Kathy Vik

I preface this essay by telling you that this phrase, the title of this work, is from Kryon. He said once that God is a physics which does not argue with itself. I felt this to be the truest thing I have ever heard.

It helped makes sense of how I could have had so many teachers, and I have read so much, and yet, it’s all one message. There is a truth that runs through things. It doesn’t argue with itself, and oh! How I looked for any chink in the armor, any inconsistencies, when working with The Teachers, when working for my boss Marge, when in the midst of angels, there is no argument. None. Everything sort of gets still in the midst of that sort of energy. Clear. So, thank you, SisterBrother Kryon, and profound thanks to Lee Carroll for, as always, bringing me into greater and greater truths, more and more ecstasy, and providing unending, infinite homecomings to us all.

I woke up this morning, and watched it, in a detached way.

First, the blinking, the slow-slow-quick sort of coming-on-line that I have in my awareness upon awakening, and then, plop, plop, plop, one by one my “circumstances” seem to get plunked down in my awareness, sort of like, I am in my apartment, it is mid-week (never too sure of the day…), here are my cats, and then, the emotional overlays, this is how I am feeling about this situation, and oh yeah, here is how I am handling that situation, that construct. It all gets filled in sort of like a video game being repopulated.

And then the tremendous heat. I realized last night, I am sort of seeing a pattern to the heat now. Always when I wake up. Strongest then. Even from a nap, there it comes, the heat. It precedes those severe episodes, sort of consumes me then. The voices told me it was the love of god. I am beginning to think they might be right.

Upon getting out of bed, I physically felt as if I was cleaved, and that the me who was observing was about 9 feet tall, sort of physical, but behind and above the physical body. It was nice. I went potty feeling that. I observed the act, I experienced the act, but I also was above, non-physical, aware.

This part of me could, I realized, just sort of vanish from the girl’s awareness, the one on the pot. That person, she does not have to feel this extra layer. The layer is always there. It was just really nice having a buddy to go to the bathroom with.

I decided to read my very first essay, Judas Energy, to start the day. I’d talked to a lady from Hay House Self Publishing Division yesterday, and I’d mentioned to her that I had started this writing career in late March, 2012, with an essay called Judas Energy.

Just an aside, although I love this writing enough to gladly spend time re-reading what I have written, I visit the older stuff always with just a little bit of trepidation. I’d like to say I don’t, but I know how unconscious I was, or felt, at that time, and I really don’t remember a lot of what I have written, so stumbling upon an essay that is a year and a half old, I approach it with just a kernel of curiosity, that when I reread it, now, it will read like I wrote it in crayon or had brain damage.

And there it was, sparkling and ready for me. Judas Energy. It talked about the encounter I had with the Eye of God in my living room. It was all about forgiveness and the love of God. Shining not only through the words, but through the structure. Not shining, though. Not really. Blazing with the love of God.

And I realized this morning, I got it, I really did, that this is good. I have reached a level of understanding that I don’t anticipate is there,but there it is. It seems this writing has a code within it that I did not know about. The stuff that is older works for me now, teaches me now, and that made me very happy.

Halfway through the essay, I got a tremendous hit of light, so much so that the heat took me away. I could do nothing but comply. I closed my eyes, began breathing intentionally, and allowed the heat to inhabit, define, guide me.

I felt, in my head, a silver lotus blossoming. It was little at first, but it was pretty, sort of twinkling.

I kept thinking, gee, I want to do something with my heart. I’d like to have this go into my heart. Try as I may, nothing happened. But I felt that there was a silver rod, which turned bright white, and became a rod which opened into a pillar, a column, right through the center of me.

This felt good, because I felt a connection, then with the Earth, with the ground beneath me, all the way down to the center of the earth, all the way up. In my travels, I have gone to where it bends, and comes back, and I am opposite where I started from, but in the same place. Hard to explain. But I digress.

Next, I focused again on my heart, and again was dissatisfied.

I was then urged to hold my palms out in front of me, not touching, just holding them out, as if I had a delicate flower resting on my fingertips, my palms.

And I thought, gee, this is sort of sad, because my hands are empty. This is no good, not a good metaphor to engage in.

And I was told, well, you can’t see the flower in your head either, but it doesn’t mean it’s not there.

And then, my hands had a lotus in them.

And then my feet were standing inside a silver lotus.

And I felt connect then. I felt there was a triad of energy, somehow, or of beauty, and I somehow felt connected to myself, and to everything, there, sitting on my bed, eyes closed, hands out, empty.

Then, I thought about all the stricture of thought, all the misinterpretations which I truly needed to believe, and all the pain and sadness and depression which accompanied thinking these dumb thoughts. I began to understand that to my right, there was a land which was dark, barely lit, and people scurried to and fro there, never seeing the other, always angry or upset or in turmoil, never loving the self. And then, separated by a partition, was a land of light.

I felt I was watching it unfold in front of me, me there in the middle point, perfectly situated, between this dark place and this amazing golden place.

Mind you, these were worlds, not rooms. Worlds.

And I realized that there was a wall, just one wall, separating the two realities. I then imagined that there were hundred of doors embedded in the wall. The doors were closed, and the world to the right, the dark one, stayed dark.

I thought about how it felt to be living in that darker world. I could feel the sadness, the anger, the frustrations and the worries. I could see how all of those feelings wold have to feel real, since there was no contrast, nothing to compare or argue with it.

So, I moved my consciousness into the bright world, and I decided I’d like to open the doors.

I felt that I had the power and ability to just crash open the whole wall. I considered it. But I decided that was probably too much.

So, all at once, all at once, I opened the doors. Some just cracked, some swung open of their own accord, but all of them opened up, all the doors opened, all at once, into the darker place.

I sent, then, that golden light I love, the one that whispers that burdens are optional, pain is misunderstanding, and all is love into the darker place. I didn’t stick around. I didn’t have to.

I came back, in the end, to the rod of light running through me. I could feel it coursing through me like a forceful geyser, a waterfall, a full and confident river, unable to consider questions of supply or future.

I did not really wish to be in the light place, or the dark place. I said, over and over, after I finally realized what was happening, I said, I just want to be this light. That is all I want. I want to be this light. Is that ok?”

This light, it makes everything right. It sees all, understands and truly is wisdom and compassionate, it is benevolence itself, and is all. There can be no troubles, no worries, no pain, in this light. It just is not possible.

I want to be that light. I don’t care about outcomes, and at this point, getting published, pursuing goals, making my way into our subculture, oh, none of it, none of it, none of it matters.

All of that comes FROM the light, you see?

And so, I just stayed in that light. I do not know why the color silver is so prevalent in my meditations. I have never really enjoyed or worked with this color before. It never interested me before. And now, here it is, in so many meditations. Maybe it is silver because it is so shiny. I really don’t know. Maybe it’s platinum. I just had to delete the last sentence, because the cap lock mysteriously went on when I wrote maybe it’s platinum. Interesting. I don’t know anything about that.

The only other thought I had on this mediation is that, since awakening, I have had a profound lack of emotionality, the baser of them, the worry, low-grade anxiety and the self-talk, needling and pushing and prodding me. All of that, quieted.

In meditation, the only emotions I had were joy, homecoming, happiness. Once I got the three lotuses going, and had visions of other lotuses within me getting colorful and spinning, I felt a lightening of overall countenance. And then, when I stayed within the light, I wept. It feels so good. It is home. It is home. It is home. It is beyond, far beyond happiness, and the word love is a matchstick compared to the bonfire I had become.

So, to close, I will tell you about what just happened. It sort of took me by surprise.

I had understood, while exiting meditation, that I would channel next. It felt right, and the light had something to say. I tried, got to a very deep state, and then something unexpected happened.

Deep enough, I knew I could speak to anybody I wanted to, and I wanted to look into Jesus’ eyes, his face, as I so often do. I feel such an intimate bond with him. He is a loved one, a revered, respected, loved one. I honor him. I love him. I know him.

And he came to me. I call him Jeshua ben Jeshua and I guess that’s wrong, but that is his name, for me.

I love him so desperately. I decided that I would finally take a look at that, ask him about it. Why do I sometimes feel the love that is just so heart crushing, so passionate? It is so full of longing. It is sort of sad, that band of love I feel for him. It is just one of the things I feel, but there it was, to feel once again. Why not ask about it? So I asked, What is that all about?

What I saw was that, although I have, from time to time taken on the persona of his wife, Mary, and felt this was my role with him, an elder in the community, one of his teachers, I resonated with that for a long time, there was somehow more to it.

It was that other love, the unrequited one that I found I was not being able to shake. And then I understood myself to be not Mary, but another. I do not wish to go to her and ask more about this chapter of my consciousness, I just don’t like the whole scene. It’s still a little hot. I need to run some violet through it I guess.

Anyway, there I was, dressed in the style of the day, with two other women, all of us with vases or big jars, and there was Jesus. I felt an instant connection, one of devotee, because I knew I did not deserve him. I was in love with him.

I realized that I had carried with me a weird longing, and behavioral, relationship pattern that really just got me into a whole lot of sad messes. I have never, and I do mean this quite literally, I have never been in a love relationship with anyone, I just laugh out loud when I admit this, not once have I been in relationship with someone who was not in love with another.

Honest to God.

And this longing, this Why can’t you devote yourself solely to me, what is wrong with me? Thing that I have always sort of struggled with, there it was, full blown, in dusty old Jerusalem.

Holy crap.

I realized that I grieved, physically grieved, that I was not the one that my beloved woke up to. It was not I who was privileged with his every thought, every word, every need. I hurt, I swooned, feeling this intense and absolutely earned love not returned as I so desperately wanted it to be.

I felt it. Real hard and good.

I cried.

And then I asked for help.

I didn’t know what to do. I’d settled down intending, speaking intention for the highest love light and sound to come to and through me, through my fingertips, clear and loving and pure, the great central sun, my beloved. And this is what I got.

So I stayed with it, and I cried some more, and I asked for help again and again.

And then Jeshua came to me. He looked me in the eyes. He put his hands on my shoulders. And he showed me the problem.

It was then that I wept again, when I realized what he was showing me, with his hands, with his heart, with his mind. I had not believed myself worthy of this love. I had not been able to conceive that I loved him so much because I saw in him that which was inside of me.

He then pointed out an energetic fact. He had me look. And there I was, bending down, running my light to and through him.

My light, my life force, my beingness, I had bent it somehow, and was feeding it to him, being fed, strangely not by him but by source, but by source through him.

It was a weird circuit. I did not like the look of it. It was unnatural. It had a nauseating quality.

And then, wordlessly, he showed me that I was now unbent. I was running straight, up and down, like him. And he was very pleased with this.

Our relationship changed then. I was no longer this weird wound of need, and he was no longer my messiah.

I was his companion, his equal, his friend. We were running these vast columns of light, the two of us, the lot of us, I guess, and the symmetry, the light, it is almost orgasmic. It has that quality to it, when it runs so strong and straight and pure. This is beyond joy, beyond love, beyond brotherhood. It is ecstasy, it is stillness, it is bliss, it is balance and symmetry and it is the physics which does not, cannot argue with itself.

This was, he told me, embodying ones own soul. And then, it was then that I realized that it is in this state that true unions, like Jesus’ and Mary’s occur. In this space, I could see their hearts, their energetic hearts, come toward each other and then merge. It was a beautiful sight. I saw it happen all around me, and I felt it with others. We were connected, then, somehow, and worship, adoration, clinging, cloying, timid love, it is something to feel compassion and gentleness toward. And that is all.

So I am thinking that this was a good meditation, and probably channeling isn’t necessary today. I think one was the other, today.

I feel better. I feel stronger, and I like the idea that it is indeed possible to experience the sort of love I always hoped was possible. It happens among those who are running straight, not bent. Friendship, kinship, this is how it plays, I think. I can feel some folks’ need from a mile away. I know that need. I was that need. And now I know the antidote. I cannot tell you how elated that makes me… it is sort of miraculous.

I am always looking for shortcuts, and really really easy ways to get back on track, because in my physical life, I can get fairly distracted and forgetful… I like to say that if I get any looser, parts are gonna fall off. Anyway,I forget things pretty easy, especially when I am not mindful and fear comes knocking.

How nice to know that the change in mood state is columns of light, one with a swirling face of Jesus on it? Who knew?

I’m gonna try this out for awhile and see if it helps, when I start getting all scared and freaked out about the little things, which, anymore is sort of rare, but when it hits, oh my god it is unrelenting. Last time it happened was a sneak attack, waking up at 2am on Friday night, for some reason in a panic about my job. Oddest thing. Really hard to get relief from at first. It abated, and I think it was just a harbinger, just the bubble bursting, once again, in an area I was meant to explore now, in the physical.

And so it goes.

So, my take away today? Most importantly, I think, was the realization that I bent my energy because I did not know of my own source. And the other one is, don’t bend my energy, don’t consider anyone or anything the source of my good. This is a misinterpretation of the light. Don’t bend, not even to Jesus Christ himself.


The humor also remains consistent.

That’s it for today. I’m hungry.

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