Deeply Awake — Catching Up 2-23-14 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — Catching Up 2-23-14 By Kathy Vik


This has been a hard entry to produce. I wrote two long piece during the week, two today, and yet, and yet…

So, here’s the truth, about writing, and about all of life, I think, to some degree. When I am stalling, I am not yet ready to tell the truth.

It makes for the worst writing, and the most dreadful of conditions.

The truth. What truth have I been skirting around? What am I slow to reveal, even to myself, these last twelve days?

I had a couple of days when the lights were out. I don’t like those times, when they are extended like that. Two days was the longest I’ve had for a while. What I mean “the lights go out,” I can hear nothing, feel nothing, and my gaze gets real specific to the matters at hand, very physical life stuff. It’s not my favorite place to focus anymore.

And then, as I knew they would, the lights started coming on again, and it’s as if I can see farther, now, than before. There’s a crazy sort of detachment I have noticed, an absurdist in nature, pointing out in the most gentle of ways when things could be better, when they are very bad indeed.

Are there willful wrongdoers? In my immediate vicinity, I’d say no, but I look at state, federal and international politics, and the willful disregard and neglect and disdain for those in the most need is despicable, a big lie to cover up that we’ve been fleeced for years, tricked, and the lights are coming up, too, on this.

As individuals take back their own power, day to day, moment to moment, it changes how everyone thinks, at least for that time. I see it at work a lot. We do affect one another, we really do.

I’ve had a number of mirrors enter my reality recently. People very much wonderfully acting out behaviors I want to have mastery over, finally, once and for all. Folks who are kind, acting as I used to act at certain points of my life, and some, well, no, I’ve never done that, but, hey, who am I to judge?

It has been a time of coming home, for me, feeling welcomed and useful again, after all this time.

But with this highly specific focus of intense intellectual energy, and some mind-blowing experiences, too, that I will share later, it took my gaze off my friend of the last two years, or at least, I have had to readjust how I do things.

I find I still give myself great blocks of time to be alone, which I treasure. Sometimes at home, during this quiet time, the music never goes on, and I am silent, on the computer or reading, or quietly thinking.

An amazing discovery, that I no longer necessarily want or need something to keep me busy while waiting, or when idle. I can be content just looking out a window, or at the ceiling, for that matter.

But there is a little less of this now, and I am adjusting pretty well to the increase in life’s tempo. Becoming more engaged in physical reality has been a goal of mine, on my list of things-to-do-when-I’m-ready sort of list. I’m glad to see I’m ready, I guess.

So the truth lurking behind this riffing is one I have been working on since I last wrote. The lights go off, they come back on, things happen, and then things that once confounded make sense, and things that made sense might start looking a little silly. Sort of how it works, at least for me.

This morning, a male voice, someone I know, said (I paraphrase) You have gone far, you’ve written it down, you’re living it, and most of it now is about waiting for people to catch up.

The voice’s intention was to tell me that in all areas of my life, just ease up and let people be. Do your best, but let it go. Let people catch up.

At the sink, I flashed on a meditation that came to me again, in technicolor, last night in a restaurant, but which visits me from time to time. I remember being at a cafe, it’s dark and rainy, so the car lights are really beautiful.

The cafe is sort of dimly lit. And I am on my way to or from a lecture of some sort, and I am recognized all over as a great thinker and amazing artist, a poet of prose, a guru to some, but alone, in cafes, happy, going from hotel to hotel, city to city, enjoying the respectful company of waitresses, punctuated by doing readings, lectures, that sort of thing. I was happy because to have people interested meant that people had changed, they got it, they understood their importance and their worth, and the world was a better place for it.

That is where the satisfaction came, in the meditation, and at the sink this morning, thinking, that’s what makes this blog so fun, because as the lights come on, maybe more and more people will be interested in this style. Hmm. And they’ll have their own extraordinary story. Hmm. And it’ll all be interconnected and will reveal that we are one family, on a spiritual mission. Hmm.

So, catching up.

Last night, I had a birthday meal at a fancy restaurant. I had steak, much rarer than I’d liked, but I have a thing about sending food back, so there I am, eating my raw muscle, surrounded in opulence, all the fine diners making memories, hoping for a good evening.

I liked how I felt. I realized that everyone here wants to be recognized, wants to be loved, accepted, validated as the being they are. They may hide, they may act weird, but everyone knows love.

Everyone knows recognition. We, each of us, have had hard times, and each of us have known pain. Some don’t know the source, and the cure, is within the pain itself, a gift they’ve given themselves. Most can’t hear such thinking. But everyone blossoms with brotherhood, good humor, respect.

So, I enjoyed my steak while thinking these thoughts. And then, something settled on me as it does from time to time, like a fog, sort of, and my thinking gets all twinkly, and clear.

I was told what to call this work, and then they said, and here you sit, unrecognized, as of yet. There will come a day, in this lifetime or the next, when you will be recognized by some, in a restaurant. But for now, how does this feel, to be aware of what you are aware of about yourself, and your work?

I know, psychiatrists would call these ideas of reference, or grandiosity, but this is the same message that has been coming to me since I was a kid. Same idea. Only now, my work sits there glittering in the ethers.

When I turned 50, it was the worst birthday I’ve ever had. Not one present.

Horrible conversations, all about everybody else’s problems. I had to cook dinner, even.

It was awful. Only because, I deserved better, and I knew it, and it seemed everyone around me had forgotten that salient fact.

It was the actual beginning of my shift, my 50th birthday. A turning point. I sat and wept in my car that day, between grocery shopping and going home, saying again and again, “It sucks to be a grown-up.” And I really, really felt it, down deep, you might say.

It’s been three years to the day, since I cried like a baby, out of self-pity and disappointment. Things are far better than they were three years ago. I feel better. As Kryon has said, I’ve solved the dilemma of my soul.

It took a while, and it was an intense ride, a ride which is no less amazing, though not at all frightening, anymore. It was impossible to tell someone all of this, because there are bars to communicating openly and fully still, and people get their feelings hurt awfully easily. Sam wouldn’t listen to any “god talk.” What to do? Rediscover my old friend, writing.

It was easy, for a time, to just be impatient, just as a stance, with everything and everyone. Just sort of low-grade explosive-anger, subdued and socialized, but palpable. I know about that. Hard, sometimes, to hang on, and easy to resort to bad habits, in our thinking.

That’s why I find being able to find center again just so miraculous.

You know, when they told me, in the restaurant, that recognition of the writing might not happen until next lifetime, maybe there’s more to do, better ways to communicate all of this. And it felt really ok to hear that.

I’ll end by telling you of some random stuff.

One morning at work, I was out having a ciggie-at-dawn. I watched the sun catch fire, and I realized in a flash that there are no punishments. There are no punishments. I eased, I relaxed, as I got it, all at once, finally, down into my blood. There are no punishments.

That lift, that boost, it has not left me. It is nice to know, and something I am sure of. The other came after having a bad day, tangling in a non-productive way with a very difficult person. I did not like how I had responded to being completely exasperated. It felt awful, in a brand new way.

That night, before bed, I felt overcome with an awareness, that the problem that day had not been with the offensive behavior, but my reaction to my reaction to it. I was distressed because I had handled it, in my opinion, poorly. So I allowed myself to mess things up with people from time to time. And then I got to the heart of it. I realized I had said things in anger, acted badly because I was mad.

I sat and began to rock, and realized that the vow I told a teacher I would take is now finally mine. “From this day forward I will not speak ill of others. From this day forward, I will not speak ill of myself.” Over and over, as past ceremonies played out in my imagination.

I felt I was donning the armor, having carried it around with me all these months. The armor of never having to second guess things, relive things, by never speaking ill of anyone. I like it. It fits for me. It felt good to finally own.

I realize, in closing, that it is sort of hard to isolate one or two miracles to tell you about, as I like to do. In a way, it is all beginning to feel that way, a good, solid optimism, a dependable, irreverent but respectful sense of humor, these are things I am beginning to count on, now, and that is a change too.

So many changes.

But trusting myself, in brand new ways, this has been a revelation. Trusting I will be kind, and that every situation can turn out for the highest good, as long as I am mindful of the vibration set, and to not approach things expecting bad things to happen.

These may seem like simple lessons in positive living, but there is always that overlay, of a divinity which is just so beautiful, and, in the right light, absolutely obvious. I’m not only unashamed to admit that this is what I think makes the world go round, I am grateful for never running out of subject matter for exploration, anymore. There is much to cherish here, much to tend to, and this is the biggest change of all.

My body has responded to these changes with a further debilitated hip. I walk with a limp now, a pronounced one, and I am nearly always in physical pain. How is this possible?

I asked this one night before going to sleep, and what I realized is that the hip, I think, and have heard, stands for stability, for physical safety, survival. I asked myself what a great healer asks, “What is the body attempting to correct or how is it attempting to serve you, by having this problem?” I wondered to myself, if my body was a poem, what would this be illustrating?

I had a bad muscle thing, for years, under my arm. At one point, the pain was so intense, I was on 180mg of Morphine a day to control it. I tried everything, chiro, massage, meds. Then I met a gifted chiro who told me it was a planar injury, and my muscles had balled up in a way which they are still doing, which is causing pain.

It was just six months ago when I relived, in meditation, my car wreck of 2001. I had forgotten how banged up my left shoulder had gotten. I realized this was the event. And then, I dove into to thing.

Why I had the accident, what life was like, where it was going, the whole thing. I actively forgave and came to union with everyone involved from that time period, let it all go in meditation, and after that, my pain has not come back.

The Teachers told me that with great light influxes, it is where we hold injury that creates pain. Muscle aches, joint problems, even vision problems and other issues, when light comes, the oldest stuff comes up for review.

I considered this, and realized, before bed, thinking about my hip, that although things are better now, I wonder sometimes just how much trust I have in things working out so great? Where is the evidence that any of it will? The evidence suggests a meager retirement awaits, financial hardship to continue.

That was the monster under my bed, you see. And now, although it’s roaming around the house and doing chores, instead of scaring me, sometimes it lets one slip. In the restaurant, though, the meaning was clear, it’s inevitable. See what a monster can do with two little words?

So, for now, it’s about doing the work before me as well as I can, as mindfully and skillfully as I’ll allow myself, and just shine. Just love, try to be nice, speak no ill, and just shine. What else is there, after all? Whether it be at work, or on a lecture circuit, it’s still the same person, the only thing that has changed is the level of consciousness of the group.

Waiting for others to catch up, well, it used to fill me with panic, dread, especially before 2012. I’d had enough training to know that ascension is a group effort, this sort of ascension plan, and it means that other people have to get it too. And then, people started to switch on, we all did!

Now, I feel connected to my family, my awakened sisters and brothers, guides and students each, all the time. I don’t feel disconnected. So, waiting for the world to catch up is less hard now. Less lonely. I’m sure you feel this too. So I, for one, feel less pushy about others “getting it.” We have lots of time. At least the contrast is turned way, way up these days.

Such are the meandering musings of a birthday girl, a hermit/role model, a simple nurse who happens to write about esoterics and how they translate into physical reality.

It matters less and less to me if people ever catch up. I’m finally home. There is no rush now.

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