Deeply Awake — Up Until Now 10-21-13 By Kathy Vik
What would you do if you were confronted with incontrovertible evidence that someone you craved approval from, an old, old craving, never satisfied, really, and as old as you are, what if, one day, sitting in the palm of your hand, on your phone, was proof, in a heartfelt letter, an honest letter, that you have not, and will never, measure up?
What would you do, and how would you deal with it?
There are many who would shrug, and sort of defiantly, or defensively, or depressively, say, well, there you go. All the proof I ever needed that I really am nothing.
Can you imagine it?
This is not having a loved one take you aside and say, “Gee, I think you should reconsider how you are handling X, y or z. I know a better way. Can I show you?”
Nope. In black and white, shining in between the prison of those lines, darkly shines the sentiment, “you are not worth loving completely. I cannot honor you in good conscience. And I think you are probably too far gone to change.”
I am paraphrasing, sort of emotionally capsulizing something that happened to me, sort of the crescendo to a week’s worth of soul work, a daily examination into me, how and who I now am.
I ask this question because I want to tell you what has happened, what has shifted, and the things I now understand.
Given this information, I almost immediately remembered what I had once been taught, something I had forgotten until kirtan on Friday night.
I can remember so clearly bringing in concerns to my teachers, when my way was not smooth with someone, or there were varying degrees of success in manifestation.
And The Teachers would smile, and they would say, be grateful you have been told the truth. Be grateful you now have been given their deepest truth, as they see it now. How sweet to know, have it enunciated, how this individual really sees things. Bless their take, but do not take it in without examination. It is their take on their reality, and you are in their reality. Tell them thank you for their honesty.
I had forgotten.
But that is the truth of it, isn’t it? I am grateful for all the honesty that has begun to flood the consciousness of our planet. People, I see it now very often, people just being, just being honest. Some are hateful, most are not, but there is an earnestness I sense now, a willingness, a need, and sometimes almost a compulsion, to be honest.
That is how I initially took this change. Thank God I finally have proof that I have not been crazy all this time. I really have had someone in my corner who has done a phenomenal job at challenging me to see my own self-worth, to own it, and to embody it.
This letter then was followed by the most honest conversation I have ever had, really, with someone who has never had the balls to just say point blank, You Are Doing Your Life Wrong. You Are Unacceptable.
It was like a boil being lanced, and sure, that sort of procedure brings with it a deep and fleeting pain, but then, oh, the relief.
Flooding me ever since has been an awareness that I am intact.
And today, the call came, as it always done, to set the bones that were broken in writing.
I know now that this is something I chose to do for this person. I know now that this has been a gift this loved one long ago agreed to deliver to me.
Again and again, on the phone, the fear statements, the concern for my relative sanity and the indictments of my worth as a mother, as a nurse, as a writer, and as a creature.
All based, oddly enough, in how much money is riding around in my wallet.
Honest to God. That was the device.
So, again and again, I was allowed to repeat that I love everything I have accomplished and all that I am, and I can understand that the other holds nothing but fear to me, and all I could say, in the end, is fear not.
I never talked about god, about esoterics, energetics, energy. Strangely, as adept as the two of us are in allowing for woo-woo talk, it did not seem fitting. I stood on my worth as is, as a human. That just by virtue of my existence, I am worthy of all good things, and I have all good things, here, with my thinning coat and my bald tires and my empty wallet.
Without any props. Without any symbols of societal approval, financial success. Mysteriously, as the conversation continued, it was more and more clear that I have this down cold, and it is a knowledge I have worked lifetimes to implement.
A knowing, between the cells which make up my bones and blood, knowing I have a place here, I do fit in, I am worthy of every luxury, and I am that I am.
It’s a lot easier to like oneself when the cupboards are full, and you have friendly faces greeting you each day and kissing your face each night.
Can you, I realized later, I had been asking, and answering the most ancient of puzzles. Can you, stripped of all symbols of outer love that are meaningful to you, Kathy, can you still maintain devotion to your self, knowing what you know about what a self really is?
Can you do it?
And today is the day I can honestly answer yes.
This addendum phone call, the call which set things right, in it we reviewed the email, the context, and the story of my life, our lives, intertwined as they are, co-creative as they have turned out to be.
And all I wanted to do was give peace. All I really could feel was compassion, when it was happening, and since.
If you cannot find it in your heart to love me, to honor me, to see me or respect me, I still love you. I love you. Forgive me for thinking, saying and acting as if there was only one way to love me.
This push-pull, this see-saw I have been on since birth, seeing in the eyes of my loved ones wild disdain and fear, oh, it has been a long long road. Some still hold it for me, clutch it to their chests and murmur to it, and I cannot convince them this is a habit that is harmful only to the one doing the murmuring.
I understand I have finished my project, now.
The rest of the way is made smooth, clear, easy.
I have within me a love which cannot be dimmed, a light which ignites my mind and leads me to a peaceful place from which I can honestly say to all of my fellow travelers, I love you no matter what.
This is not a clinging love. It is not a needy love. It is a grown up and profound love, one which I know to be my truest form.
I no longer fear you, and can say with all honesty, the blocks which I constructed and refused to have budge, they have evaporated, they are gone, and I am free.
I know how hard it is to not be honored by those who I honor. As such, I choose now and forever more to honor everyone, everyone. There is no dark place here. There is no needing to measure up here. You measure up. You have a pulse and a smile, a thought in your mind, a song playing over and over in your heart. You are a divine being. I love you.
I guess that it is appropriate to say that this miracle has left both players peaceful. We have agreed to dinner in three nights time, just because we enjoy each others’ company. Just because the fight is now finally over. Just because we have released each other from ever having to approve or love the other. Because of this courageous act, there is love. There is honor, and there is peace.
I see now that this turn of events was a gift for me, but also for the other.
Here, on the phone, again and again, was someone saying to the one holding the hatred and fear, “It’s ok that you feel this. I am sorry you hold fear. All is well. It’s ok that you judge so harshly. I understand. I love you anyway. Please forgive me judging you.
In real time, on a Cricket phone, on a cold October day, two great souls gave each other the gift of calling it even.
I know that my love was not matched in words, on the phone, during that conversation, because, really, it was an exchange that was from me, precipitated and encouraged and called upon by the other.
And so I did what was the only thing left to do, it seemed, after all these months of recalibration and forgiveness, of shift and change, of growth and self-acceptance.
And I think holding the compassion, loving regardless, and still saying loud and clear, I am that I am, this was not a healing only for me, as it was an event not only for the other. It was a date we had made a long time ago, a graduation of sorts, a releasing of all that was dark and old, mean and small, and terrifyingly real, up until today.
So, I see it like that. I had a great teacher, a great student, push against the last remaining structure of old energy within me, the old rickety structures constructed and patched up over time, a body of beliefs which made me do outrageously stupid things, desperate things, because the truth had never been stated. “I love you,” that was what was said, but never meant.
And all those years of hiding the fear, feeling ashamed of the truth of it, that I have given over my definition of myself and my wroth, my power, to someone who, when all was revealed, was disappointed, wow, it was what needed to happen.
I have been hearing now for a couple of days that manifestation, my new life, the one which has been keeping me on this odd path of mine throughout my life, I understand now that it is here. It cannot not be here. I have changed vibrations, and I do not see a need for complications, for punishments, for further proof of my being inconsequential.
And if I can do it in this sort of hand to hand combat, I can do it with anyone, with anything, any time.
As sure as my former belief in my absence of worth, here is the truth of it. I have always been worthy, and never even had to prove it. To prove it negates the truth of it. This is peace which is earned, but an inheritance. Organic. True. The synchronicity of all of it is astounding me. I can feel the next life, the one I knew, hoped, burned for, it is here. Here in my skin, in my mouth, in my heart and mind.
Daily, I am meeting and communing with those of like minds. I now have a new friend, complete with phone number, mutual interests and mutual admiration. I do not expect this trend to stop.
I want to mention how I cemented this into my physical awareness, made it physical, and then will end with why I named this piece what I did.
There were a couplet of phone calls you see. There was the big one, where every poisonous belief one held for the other was brought up, languaged, forgiven. And then there was a follow-up.
After the two occurred, I understood what had happened, the dispensation I had been given, and the dispensation I most certainly gave.
I said out loud, in meditation, make this physical for me. Make this real. Give me something here and now, in my reality, which will prove to me that what has occurred was more than another foray into painful family dynamics. Prove to me what it is that I believe I understand.
I figured I’d hit the lottery or meet a new friend, something down the road. Seemed logical, and it was fine with me.
I was tired, complete, needed to rest for my up-coming shift. I had an overwhelming urge to listen to Kryon, and knew I needed to listen to his talk on Old Soul Self Worth.
It is one of the few where the energy is so high, right out of the gate, that you just have to hold onto your hat. It is deep and it is true, and it spoke to me, they spoke to me, and with each sentence, a confirmation. With each image, confirmation. With each sentiment and encouragement, confirmation.
I know that to some, this is not a miracle, just another brick in the crazy wall. I am aware of that. And so it is for some, and that is more than fine with me. Not everyone is ready for this, not everyone wishes to use their experience in the way I do.
The ones who don’t, I find, are the ones more than willing to criticize my consciousness, however. This is a grand truth, that will help me immeasurably as I move forward, made real today, sanctified, understood and forgiven, this very day.
The second phone call was the start of the adjustment, the laying down of swords, the road home.
The second phone call, it was a short one.
“I want you to have a new mantra,” I was told.
And then I was made to repeat, “Up until now…”
And then our goodbyes, the “I love you’s,” which somehow felt so honest, the truest way to say goodbye and hello to this great soul.
Up until now.
And there are many things which I included in the prayer I made with those three words, after they were given to me.
Up until now I doubted my worth, because I knew, always knew, that my worth was in question, but that the question dared not be fully articulated. Like a crazy saboteur, not Good Enough haunted all of my jobs, all of my relationships, all of it.
And up until now, I needed to work on this, because up until now I did not fully understand that up until now, the set up had been this: without reciprocated respect from those whose respect I so desperately, like a child, needed, longed for, felt entitled to, without money, without social status, without any props at all, with any of that, can I love myself?
My teacher Richard had long ago told me this was the key to happiness. Love yourself anyway. And until this day, so many years later, I tried, I really really did, but I wasn’t ready yet. Not complete yet, still cooking yet.
I’ll leave this as I left that first big phone call. I said, at its conclusion, given all the context that has been given, all the explanations and rationale, now, when you hold fear for me and find it hard to love me, try telling yourself a compassionate story. Try thinking on a compassionate story, form any one of those I have shared. I have told you who I am, how I have worked this puzzle, and how I feel. I hope you can see with softer yes, and find a way to celebrate this life in front of you. And if you cannot, that’s ok, I love you anyway. It’s fine. I don’t need anything from you, and want only for you to feel peace and to feel compassion.
I am no longer ashamed that these revelations have come the way of esoterics. Some tap into it while climbing a mountain. Others find it while tending house for their loved ones. I found it in the company of great teachers, who one by one filled my heart and mind with songs and stories which rang true to me, felt like home, and never ever, not once, turned out to be contradictory.
Not once, I say.
And so, it is a truth for me, not for anyone else, but I share it with you because I know its realization has fundamentally changed me, and it has sweetened the grid. This sort of forgiveness, compassion, strength, hope, high regard and deep devotion, I got here by studying things which are interdenominational, quantum, odd and strange to most, congruent and satisfying for a growing group of resurfacing friends.
Up until now I was incorrect about a couple of things, and now that my head is screwed on straight, I think bringing things into manifestation is going to be one hell of a ride. I feel like I have been given the green light. I feel like I have been given my final walking papers.
Up until I had been in a prison of my own devising, the keys of which I had asked another to hold.
This prison was subtle and all-pervasive, oppressive and scary at times, and I am glad that, in the end, no key was needed. The cosmic joke is that, although the prison door had been closed, it had never been locked.
Up until now I had not realized I had always been free.
And so, the darkness abates, and now, once again, when I commit to memory one of these essays, because of the bridge I have just finished walking, I will be naming it “deeply awake 4”, because with each energetic summit, the voice changes, the pace and the purpose changes, and now, the work changes again.
It is no longer appropriate to dwell on what I have found to be grand misinterpretations. These misinterpretations are commonplace on this planet, and I am not alone in experiencing them, just in expressing them as I do.
It is not appropriate to dwell on the darkness, worrying it like prayer beads, begging it to reveal its mysteries. That’s the thing about the dark. Its mysteries can only be revealed in light.
The old has passed away, and the new, it is grand, it is open, and it is inviting. It is home, here, now, and I see that I have partners, all over the world, and here in my hometown, those who have been helping me through these last movements, holding the light for me as I make my way, puzzling it out, finishing up.
I call out and celebrate my brothers and sisters who are knowing the truth of it, that we are one, and we love each other, and this is a grand and glorious game in meaning, identity and consciousness. We are wildly loved by our selves and by our fellow travelers, and the very earth herself.
It is time now to sing the songs of renewal, of the core, of home, and so, although I will not be numbering the deeply awake essays as now part of volume four, make no mistake, I am in a different place, and from here, there is nothing left to do but to sing, smile, encourage, and love.
So be it.
And so it is.