Deeply Awake — Christmas 12-4-13 By Kathy Vik
I had been feeling, before Thanksgiving, that new rituals were in order this year for Christmas. Celebrating Jesus’ birth, though beautiful, and enough to concentrate on for generations, obviously, I wanted to include other things, missing elements, and some humor, for a change.
I had thought that the 12-12 to 12-21 portal, a nine day walk through a now increasingly wide hallway, I wanted to culminate this year’s and this lifetime’s wisdom, invite my akashic and “unseen” cosmic family to the thing.
So, I fashioned a celebration, in my head. I did the numerology, and thought, although the days don’t line up right, and so are less auspicious than I’d like, still, 12-12 could be all about the one, the monad, the all is the one, the one is the all, unity, you know, that sort of thing. Work in the masters who have been with us throughout, donning these bio-suits, doing the work.
And so, I got up to, I think 10, and had decided it would be good to explore, but, really, I’m just not the ceremonial type. Rituals, I pretty much rely on others to provide it. I find it fussy, for the most part. Non-portable. Pretty, entrancing, mystical, portals, all, so I love it all, but can take it or leave it, basically. I can do the same thing with a tree, my cat, looking at my finger up close, having a good conversation with someone I love. And anymore, I love everybody.
So, I decided to abandon writing about it, because I wasn’t going to use it for myself, probably, and it seems a bit presumptuous to tell another ancient what to do with their free time. I was bummed, in a way, because it appealed to a side of me I very much like, the one that, once engaged, sees ceremony as The All, who can conjure just the right thing to say, do, feel, ahh! It is magic, sometimes, ritual is. It is symmetry and order. I rarely engage it like that anymore. Quick prayers on the fly, touching finger to third eye, sometimes meditating. That’s about it for me anymore. I want to explore it, it is potent and powerful, ritual. It called to me, days one through 9, the numerology, colors, all of it…
But the thing is, there have been such amazing shifts for me personally, since the day before Thanksgiving, that I don’t even know if any ceremony is required this year, just none at all. I feel brand new, in very many ways. I feel good. Clear. Ecstatic. Satisfied. Curious. Gone are worry thoughts, dissections of The-Play-So-Far, disengagement of the drama which loves to spin us all, until we just say, nah, on second thought, I’m going to sit this one out.
Since the day before Thanksgiving, I have been in a miasma of completion, closure, congratulations, love, brotherhood. Far from feeling alone, I find that my ability to hear, and intuit, have increased exponentially.
My ability to discern has made watching movies weird. There’s no better word. Symbology and metaphor and love and wisdom so thick you can cut it with a knife, in some of them, and others, they are small and mean, with characters making decisions out of fear, insecurity, loneliness.
These are the simple movies, and they aren’t that popular anymore, and for that I am grateful. Wilfred, that series, it’s written for lightworkers. It’s beautiful.
The last scene of that second series of Wilfred, I’m going to repeat it. It bears repeating. Ryan, the guy who sees a person in a dog suit where everyone else sees a dog, and this human dog puts Ryan through core spiritual lessons, well,
Ryan says to Wilfred, the human dog, a central question, upon reviewing his girlfriend’s behavior. She said that she also hears Wilfred talk, but she heard Wilfred tell her to embezzle millions of dollars.
She felt no remorse for the havoc her actions took, havoc that included a suicide. Ryan asks Wilfred, his sole/soul confidante for two years, “What’s the difference between her and me?” Wilfred’s reply? “Some people can’t handle Vegas. You can.”
This is apt description for the journey that some of us have made. My primary question, all this time, has been, how do I love others? How do I love this place? How do I love myself? Not what is love, or what is God or why am I here. But, How do I do it? How do I forgive the unforgivable? Find peace where there is none? See the good in every single person I meet? How do I do this? Why do I not know peace?
I share this next part because I believe it is key, it is central, to our family’s mental health. But before I do, I have a thing or two to say about family.
I could think this big, on and off, ever since I went on an astronomy kick in first grade. I wanted to know where I am from, a light curiosity at first, though my reading was advanced, for my age.
It was sort of a burning need I had, and source of disappointment in myself that I could not remember. It has taken this long to finally get it. And I want to tell you about this. Those who can get with it are what is referred to as “family.” Welcome.
I have always thought that The Pleiades are important to me, but not my real home. I know I run with the whales, that we are all part of the same thing, and my love for them is vast.
I know The Teachers told me I was from “The Blue Planet,” and would never speak of it again, saying if I knew too much, I wouldn’t stay. And they were right. There is some knowledge that must be released appropriately, and when you encounter it, and it is not yet time, you know it. Brick wall, if you notice it at all.
Anyhow, in April of 2012, on a smoke break in my car, I was captivated with the heavens. I just stared at the stars while I smoked, because it’s pretty rural out there, and I can’t see stars where I live. I felt drawn to that night’s sky.
Then, I was overcome with sensations, and I heard, booming, something about the Christ child being born this night, all this ceremony, I felt, and I was compelled to write what I had heard, verbatim, with the date.
I wrote it in the back of a Dolores Cannon book, since missing, here around the house somewhere. But what I was told was that this message was about and from Antares, that I was from Antares, and I was this Christ child. Hmm. Interesting, I thought. I also got the word quasar, and it bugged me, still does. Have no idea what that means.
This meditation experience got me looking at astronomy sites again, which is good for me, although it makes me awful homesick. An ache sort of builds up, as I scroll and click and gawk, and then I just can’t hang. I can look at crop circles for hours. But the stars? I feel the definitiveness of my situation when I do, and I don’t like to be reminded of it.
So I have always thought sort of big, and so, I began to think, hmm, we are all part of this God energy, but there is a group of people who not only think this stuff, but seek out others who also think this way.
We are coming together, more and more, these days, and it feels SOOOOO good to be among those who understand this homesickness, who send light to those in the group who are in or know of suffering, and who post ridiculous things to make each other laugh. I have met a few of us in person, more now than ever before, but it’s a slow process, rocking this stuff into the physical, still, in some regards.
I will comment on that to close.
So, the concept of family. And I am thinking now as much on Kryon’s (Lee Carroll’s) channeling as I am Grandma Cannon’s work in The Three Waves of Volunteers, and Bashar, and a whole lot of other sources, dear friends, oh! the confirmations of this are endless. I’m thinking about The Children Of The Sun Foundation, and other pristine channels now.
There is a group of us who came in specifically to awaken, acutely and FULLY, while still plugged into the predominant matrix. It’s what we have waited for, and it’s here. IT is our specialty. It is what we do.
This is my soul family. I have heard a lot of numbers, how many of us there are. 144,000, in the old days. Around 400,000, per Bashar, 360,000, per Kryon. But a finite amount.
And you can call it elitist, you can, but each of us, each of us can attest to the truth of it. Our biological families, we had contracts with them, probably hard lessons to get us to seek, and for those who bore us and lived with us, to incur and heal karma, basically.
Lots of younger soul lessons, but all of these people, along the way, aware on a soul level of what was coming, what was going to happen, the potentials, if we would just come in, we volunteers, and wake up, switch on, remember.
That is what The Teachers taught. It is our being to do so. It is not a duty. A calling. Nothing like that. It is how we are made. That there is honor for the task, this comes from what we choose to overcome, but more, from our abilities, abilities everyone has, since we all have the same DNA, but that we choose to explore first.
And so, it also becomes about straddling, knowing the quantum world as well as the one we were born in, being comfortable in either, being happy in either, being happy, it turns out, in both, all at once, and so many more places, if it can be put like that.
Finding peace. That has always been what it has been about for me. Just finding peace. Dissatisfied with the explanations and fascinations of my peers, and especially of my elders, I had to do it. I had to. It was not optional. And for me, finding peace involved finding a way to love everything and everybody. How?
Now I bring up what I felt was inappropriate to bring up before, and I can feel the barrier before me, before I speak these words. It’s not just an inner barrier. It’s one within our group consciousness. I am in deep honor for the two women who triggered this essay. Let me tell you about it.
I posted, on facebook, a beautiful picture of our friend, Yoganada. I read his autobiography in nursing school, and felt a calm afterward that I had not known before. He is a great soul, of course. A master.
Within hours of posting this image, two of my friends responded. Both had said they had had Yoganada as their personal teacher (in a quantum way, if you know what we mean). One said that he came to her and sat on her bed.
And I loved hearing this. It, again, opened another door within me. One of permission, celebration and homecoming. I had always felt I needed to be somehow ashamed or guarded about Jesus coming to me as a girl, and then again in my thirties. I have always known him as friend, counselor, lover and guide.
And because of that, I felt it non-sensical and inappropriate to worship him as I was taught I had to. To do so cheapened the experience, and did not capture the love, the absolute connection of love, I know with him.
To do so bends the spirit, bends the energy, makes your energy run bent, into others, rather than running straight and pure and tall, right through to the core of the earth, and all the way to the origin of The All.
I had the luxury of having The Teachers with me, at the time of his second visit. Less vivid, but just as real. What struck me was how real he is. How biological he was. How real. It sort of freaked me out, so I asked The Teachers about it. They confirmed that, yes, of course, he lives. Of course he can be physical if he so chooses. Of course. He loves you very much.
As time passed, I came to see him, and all teachers who have been touched by this energy of creation, which quickens the DNA, opens up the receivers, the transmitters, all of it, and look what came out! Look at DaVinci. Rembrandt. Bohr. Pythagoras. Rumi. Gandhi. Buddha. They were all channeling the source. Some had personalities which were more troublesome than not, which allowed less light out, but all of them knew of it, embodied it, emulated and demonstrated it for others.
All of us have personalities, but I think that as things run more clear, and as we take on the Collective Consciousness, the Cosmic Consciousness, then these foibles become less troublesome, things pop into a new alignment, and things run smoother.
So I end with that. I thought, yesterday, another day of completion and just astounding spiritual gifts, this changes things. I get to evaluate things from a whole new perspective now, my current living patterns, thought patterns, and expectations. I noticed that some of the assumptions I’d been making about the behavior of others, needs to be re-scripted.
I am not expecting what I once did. Not from others, not from myself, and not from our mother, The Great Central Sun. I see not only my part in it, but a greater purpose, which goes far beyond one-star system, right here, in my daily life, now.
I had a meditation on how much I love my mentor, Marge. I feel a love for her that I have only felt for very few people, for my Grandpa-On-The-Farm,is what we called him, for my friend Linda, for my mom, and for my great friend and mentor, Marge.
Marge, at work, demonstrated such an integrity, such a deep and abiding love, it was so sturdy, so sure, and she expressed it to every single person she came into contact with. On a more personal level, my grandpa expressed this sort of love too, toward my sister and me.
This is what I can see shining from my friend Linda’s face, and it is what sustained my mom through days darker than you wish to know about. This great love, it is neutrality and intimacy, it is unending, unbending, creative and compassionate. It is benevolence. Some could do lend it to every area of their lives, some just one or two, but each knew it, channeled it, embodied it, for my benefit, and those around them.
It is a portal, these people are portals, and I can only see all good in them. They embody and demonstrate love, compassion, self-lessness, honesty, integrity, good humor, intelligence. They, too, are my family.
And I thought, in meditation about my great friend, Marge. In a flash, I came to know of her as my daughter. Beloved child. And here she was, this magnificent creature. Not only did I feel honor, but I felt awe, seeing in her the independence and the beauty of someone who is their own entity, in the physical, realized, holding light for others. She had come so far. Had so much to be proud of.
The gift she gave me, loving me as she has, is enormous. And I understand that this love is a familial one. It is intimate, it is thick with love, and it is real.
The Teachers had always said that I set it up this time to awaken, There was really no other option. My first teacher, Richard had told me that for six years, shepherding me through the beginning of this great shift. And I know I’m not the only one. I know I am no longer alone. I am not the only one having visions of whales, and having weird stuff happen to them, with regularity, anymore.
We are a family, and so, how does a family celebrate Christmas? Any way they want to, is the answer I was fishing for.
I would love to write about that beautiful ceremony I saw, the 12th through the 21st, combining color, numerology, sound, energy work, essential oils, prayers, for this sacred portal we are about to once again enter. And if someone asks me to, it will be an absolute pleasure to do so.
If it gets written, I probably would celebrate that way, thinking on my beloved friends, my energetic equals, my family, you, who read, who channel, who have ordinary or sophisticated lives, who are famous, infamous or quietly hidden still, all brothers and sisters, each in deep and profound love with our creator, our source, with life, with our selves, and with those around them.
I think celebrating all great acts of compassion and courage, spiritual wisdom and selflessness, great acts of art, any act of art, all of these can and should be celebrated, as the brothers and sisters we knew, and perhaps even were, this Christmas. Bring on the iconography!
Enjoy the kaleidoscope of spiritual endeavor we have created this last go around, but let us never forget the ancients, those we once were, those who stand next to us, at our tables, lightning the candles with us, murmuring the prayers as we invent them, enjoying bounty and gifts, food and drink and pleasure, our friends, our loved ones, our family.
The lineage is a long one, and we have been here, this family, since the beginning. We are specialists at this. The only thing that separates us from the ones who war and brawl and insult and play take away is that we know it and they don’t. Not yet. Not yet. But they will.
So, yeah, maybe there is an us and them. But there is not a soul alive who has not been touched by this love. Every life has known it. Everyone is alive with this love. They just don’t know that it is this love which is breathing them, encouraging them, loving them through all things, knowing their worth and their purpose, consoling when needed, celebratory when acknowledged, alive with benevolence. It’s hard to feel it, thinking and believing as we have, imagining so little of what is there to know.
So there is no true us and them, It turns out to be a matter of perspective, only.
This year, my kid and I may celebrate Christmas with all the ritual we always did, but we will do it in order to soothe ourselves. Sam can’t language as well as I can where he goes, and where he comes from, but each of us see the sense in acknowledging that we have God inside, and that everybody else does too.
We both love Christmas. I love celebrating the birth of my friend, my counselor, my adviser, the guy who comes to me now in meditation, sometimes smoking clove cigarettes, sometimes highly preoccupied, sort of bored, in a way, and always funny. The keeper of paradox, the one thing I want to be when I grow up.
That’s what Jesus told me, the first time we met, me just a kid, in the backseat of a car, on an errand. He said I was the alpha and the omega. He said I was to be like him, but that I am not him. He told me that I am capable of this, what he is, and more. He told me this would be my quest. And he’d always be around.
I told no one of the meditation. Just told my mom I wanted to name a daughter, if I ever had one, Meg. I might have even said Omega, and that would have been, or was, made fun of. But I am glad I did that, because it made it real for me. It anchors it for me, making it less of a hallucination, somehow.
And then I posted that photo of Yogananda.
Now I have friends who have also been visited, as real and as physical as you please. I am not alone. Booyah.
So let’s celebrate one another, and all the progress we have made as a collective, as a group Merkahbah, as a field, as pioneers and upstarts and rebels and folks who have authority issues and who are forceful, those who have always seen the nonsense inherent in the systems cloaking our understanding and choking our words of love.
We are here, alive,. We made it! It’s real, and it’s slow, but it’s happening. I can think of nothing more important, or more joyful around which to center our Christmas this year.
Loving, through the season, a baby who came in ready to go, willing to sacrifice whatever his fellow travelers required of him to model what full consciousness looks like, behaves and thinks and feels like.
I love my Jesus, as I love my Self, my son, my mentors and my mother. I worship none. I love all.
Christmas greetings to You this day, dear reader, dear friend, dear family.