Deeply Awake — Galactic Post-Eclipse Blessings By Kathy Vik 1-21-19

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A mystical, galactic and profound discussion of eclipse messages. The talk, as always, has a wonderful mixture of the profoundly esoteric, and the mundane, with me in the middle, explaining it all to you, and to myself.

Much astrology, metaphysics and new age thought here, so enjoy, if you’re into that kind of thing.

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Deeply Awake CHANNEL Reprint: The Group 5-16-13 Consider A Phonograph Needle

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REPRINT: THE GROUP – 5.16.13 Channelled by KATHY VIK
Author Note: I discovered this today, and the timing, of course, could not be better. It is written largely in parable form, it is cajoling and familiar, as they have not been for a time. It’s from 2013, but as I read, I understood that one of the purposes for having written it was for it to be reread today, on the Monday after Holy Week, 2016. I hope it finds you well.
THE GROUP – 5.16.13

Channelled by KATHY VIK

We have allowed you to visit the great sky as we take on this task, this at hand, to speak to your friends, the ones who we are wishing to remind and touch and love. We love. We must, for this is the all. It is the only language, it is what give the sounds your lovely ears sense, it gives utterances the light of love, that which conveys meaning.

We wish you to consider a phonograph and its needle.

The needle does not know that which it will touch, that which it will glide across. It knows its function is to touch a surface, and in so doing, a sound is produced.

Can you imagine if the needle, the phonograph needle, had consciousness? Would it have favorite songs it likes to hear?

At first, the little needle may not understand that it is when the black disc is lowered onto its feet, then sound occurs.

Many days may pass before our needle understands fully that this black groove might be what is actually making the music.

More days to understand that it is the interaction of needle to black disc which produces sound.

More days to see, to feel, to finally take for granted, dear one, TAKE FOR GRANTED, that when black disc touches self, touches needle, that what occurs is actually very pleasant.

The needle spent the first few weeks out of its box feeling banged up and unnecessarily rubbed up against. Some of its finer crystals slip off, each and every time a black disc comes close, and for some time the needle feared the disc because of this, feeling this was somehow a true and grievous and unfair and cruel diminishment, and not understanding that this diminishment was actually just the removal of debris, the slow and steady removal of which, made the music all that more sweet.

Please understand the joy this little, conscious needle felt, yes, loved one, FELT, the day, it was a bright winter day, when the needle had yet another encounter with a big black disc, and this time, when the rubbing and gliding and sound happened, the needle felt the music.

Feel the joy and the bliss this little one knew, when its being understood the sheer triumph contained in the Ode to Joy! The divine bliss in Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus! The deep understanding and celebration of Lenny Kravitz as he belts out “Mama Said!” Yes, that day was a great one, that moment, that perhaps two seconds of comprehension, the moment the needle really heard this music, understood its beauty, for the very first time. Oh! What a moment!

Do you think the understanding and the joy and learning ended the moment our little fellow heard a snippet of music?

Oh, I can assure you, this task that used to chafe and anger the needle became a pleasurable one, one he anticipated wholeheartedly, and engaged in eagerly, and celebrated with sheer joyful abandon! This is because the needle began to anticipate the fun and joy and creativity it was presented with!

And the needle, bless its soul, the needle began LEARNING the tunes.

And then, the needle became anxious.

Our little needle liked certain music more than others.

It spent so many months, a lot longer than his training, his first few days out of the box, he spent most of his life, really, just putting things together, enjoying the music and humming along.

Then one day, something happened.

Something very unusual, to the needle. The needle had gotten very comfortable with his routine and had even gotten a little bored.

Yes, it began to recognize what sort of music it’d be hearing for a half an hour just by the look, the feel of whatever disc got plopped down, sure, it would then hunker down and say, “Ah, yes, well I knew it would sound something like this…”

It even got to be a bit of an expert. Of course, it’d never really spent any time around any of its kind. It didn’t even know if any other such things as it existed! Sure, it was always hearing other music, sometimes real close, sometimes very faintly, sometimes lots of music, sometimes not very much, but, sure, there was this other sound, but what of it? It never dawned on him, of course, that needles were touching black grooved discs, producing sounds from other record players. Oh my gosh, thinking such a thought? No, no sir. It just didn’t seem applicable to the needle. It was an abstraction, and it never gave it a whole lot of thought.

Such was the life of our little needle.

But, you must understand, this needle had been a diligent one.

He was in his own little box, in the factory he went right into his pretty box, and he went from there to the phonograph. Do you see? So he had figured out his purpose as best he could, given the stimulus and the understanding that had been available to him, already in the package so to speak.

There came a day when the owner of the record player decided to rearrange things a little bit. Of course, the needle did not like this too much, did not understand why it had not been consulted, since it, all by itself, had become convinced awareness was correct: it, this needle, was single-handedly creating all this music for its room.

It had gotten comfortable with its surroundings, our needle, and, when the lid was cracked, never something it could anticipate but something it always, always, always loved, it got to peek and see a few things. Movement, color, voices. And always the other sounds, the other music, in the background.

But all it really knew, when it’s all said and done, that it loved one thing best, this grand event that somehow make it feel like more than a little needle, when those black grooves came close, touched it, and then, it could sing again.

So, there came a day when the owner of the house felt it was time to rearrange things. She’d bought a new stereo system, and needed to rearrange a few things.

The needle was put into its box, and this darkness, and stuffiness, well, it worried the needle. The needle had enjoyed the peeking, the movement and lights and excitement. It had loved learning and assimilating new things.

And now it was dark. And our little needle was more lonely, somehow now more lonely now, than ever before, in an existence which the needle began to think, there alone in its box, had been a pretty solitary and selfish one.

Above all, you see, love, oh, our dearest love, the needle missed the music.

There in the box, the needle began to put a few things together.

In the dark, there was not a lot to do.

The dark extended before it, and the needle decided to just allow this new phase. There in the dark, it started doing something that surprised and then, began to delight it.

It began to sing all by itself.

It found that it could do so, just by remembering, remembering its most beloved music. It had wanted more and more and more of the beautiful stuff, the stuff it loved, and it remembered how it had once wanted to find a way to direct what music it played, so it only ever listened to Bach, for all its remaining days.

And so our needle sang to itself.

The needle thought that this would never end, so of course, melancholy would visit. Disappointment, longing, these became companions for the needle, there alone, in its box.

And then, one day, there was light.

That’s all the needle knew. One day there was darkness, and one day, there was once again light.

Imagine the needle’s surprise!

Do you know what happened, what greeted the needle when it was taken out of its box?

There, the needle rode, in a soft pink hand. It was gently and lovingly placed in a holder, just as before, only now, it felt a beautiful joining with this record player, a fusion of sorts. It felt sort of like it was part of the whole thing. Odd, the needle thought. Odd indeed.

And then it saw its black disc, and the needle was filled with such a sudden and deep and true joy, that it swooned, because, there on the disc was the label of our little needle’s most cherished tune. Right there, coming toward it once again, flying now, here comes “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.”

This is what we want you to know.

At the moment of contact, when old needle, somehow newly regenerated, feeling brand new, once the needle physically approached that grooved disc, flew closer and closer and closer still, it could already hear the song.

And when the song began to play, it was nothing like the needle was accustomed to.

You see, while the needle was in the box, much had been done to the house, and to the record playing system, to the speakers, all of it, and now, the needle was firmly and forever a grand, integral part of it all! And, do remember, that there in the dark, our needle had chosen to keep active, and to seek out its truest joy, and it learned how to sing, there in that cramped box, in the dark!

The needle had always been correct to understand and appreciate its value, because without the music, the home would be dead. There would be no music, no joy, no communication, no love.

But the record player which formerly housed the needle had had its day. It was old, and the speakers, though adequate, were not state of the art, and the owner just got real tired of scratchy music.

So, the record player our little needle was so lovingly enjoined with, fused with, well, this record player had much different abilities than that old system.

The music this player could broadcast could be heard by anyone on earth, and it could be heard by very distant peoples on distant planets!

The music could be heard by whole groups of people, weirdly, strangely, to the needle’s way of thinking, at least initially, broadcast somehow in its entirety, to great groups of people.

Now, you can imagine, there was much in front of the needle to do. This needle was a music lover, and its time in its factory box had heightened all of its senses, including its will.

The needle learned quite rapidly that this new system had a cooperative nature, and if the needle thought about it just right, and held a very grateful heart, the music it most loved would be presented to it for its pleasure!

This alone soothed the last of the needle’s discouragement and anger at having spent so many long days in its box, without music.

What we wish for you to appreciate with this analogy is that you are needle, black disc, record player, house owner, composer, musician, recording engineer, record factory and listener.

You are not singular.

You are part of a new cooperative.

You may ask for what delights you, and it is our delight to provide this to you.

Think of your ego as the needle. It has a purpose, and if it does its purpose fully, mindfully, and with great joy and creativity, it has a great time, and the system really only works when the needle takes full responsibility for this: the needle is the only way in which the very music of the spheres can be heard here on your planet.

Everyone has this set up.

The records are not scratchy. It is impossible for these recordings to become corrupted, and now, dear one, you sense the power in this analogy.

Now you see just what it is we are telling you.

You yourself are the diamond light through which all is transmuted, all potential, into sound, which is light and love. Sound begins and ends all. Sound contains all. Sound is all. We can say this is true as well about spin, about love, about integrity, about balance, but today, our focus is here, on sound.

You have within you the diamond needle with which you can play any Akashic record you wish to play. You dwell in a home which delights in being filled with the sounds of the ancients, and the sounds form home itself.

Through the dark nights of your soul, through your nights in the box, your days in confusion and suffering, your years in the desert, these were necessary, to tune you to a more clear sound picture.

Do you think you were left alone while in your factory box?

You remember our analogy of the farmer and the bean, all his little covered pots of sprouting beans, each one thinking they were going to get eaten, each wanting to be with The Others, because they beans prefer to be together when being consumed, all the time unaware the purpose of the dark and of the water in which it rode was not to boil, but to germinate!

But as the lid went down, and as the darkness closed in around the bean, the needle, the human being, something was happening.

We told you of the null zone.

We told you of the three days of night. Three nights and days, full nights and days, of nothing, null, the void itself. We told you how the Pueblans understood it and have made entire cities which can run independent of the man made grid, for they needed, wanted to be ever aware of the old ways, and they liked the reminder of the days to come which they could drive their trucks through, which their children and puppies could kick up dirt within. You and your loved one visited such a place, and you stood there in deep remembrance of this very time, my love.

This null zone, you have passed it.

We told you it was magnetic, did we not?

We chuckle, as you grin, as you see the absolute fun in all of this, as the personalities and faces and responsibilities swirl and soar, and each of us plays these roles gladly, from time to time, wearing different quits, telling ourselves vastly different stories about where we came from, what we once knew to be true, and what we now know to be a bigger, more inclusive, happier and more satisfying truth. Just for ourselves.

You see now how this meld is entirely possible while you are doing your laundry? Oh she’s got it! Oh she’s Got It! And she let[’s everyone see her do it.

Oh we have a clever one here.

(freaking transmission ends… I did that during second edit…now to continue…)

And you did not have to hunker down in the dark for three nights and for three days, not literally.

You see now many of our teachings were said in a literal tone never to be taken literally. You were not yet advanced enough to take this in whole. No one was, love, no one.

The null zone has indeed been passed.

Now, what did we tell you of the time after the null zone, do you remember? Quiet, listen to this music, and remember, love, because we are here. Acquaint yourselves once again with this knowledge.


Of course we are from the Seven Sisters, as are you, but love, we are from the stars beyond, each but one set of incarnations, one set of instructions, one glorious assignment we gave ourselves, one after another.

This has been going on as long as you think. There is no beginning, there is no end, and so this focus, the blue planet you have longed for, of course this is where you feel resonance, because we are entangled, we you, you we. So you can call this Pleadian, sure, but it is so much vaster than this.

We are what you have termed The Teachers, but we are part of a group of energies which were allowed to expand, and we thank you and your collective for this.

We said we would not be back, and in certain ways, we are not, as how you knew us was through the filters of another grand and true soul sister. Your brother/sister. We are one.

We tell you now of the time after the null zone, a time you have fretfully passed from.

This time is one of newness. It is no accident you pulled only one major arcana card, and it the fool, and it ‘covering’ you. You, and your friends, are freshly birthed in so many many ways.

You know you hear the music of the spheres. You know a new balance and integrity. You know little of the fear and panic gripping hearts. It is a reality for many. But there are now ones on this earth who do not resonate in the old way, no, not at all.

This will create many quite humorous and enjoyable situations, and not one of them will cause any one of you giants one bit of harm, for you now wield a special balm which covers any sting your simple words contain for those who slumber.

You know now that it is fine to completely miss the point of what is happening, because to understand takes a lifetime of devotion.

And now, the part we love.


Forever please we ask you forever abandon the notion that you are in any way special, in any way at all, please, for the love of all that is holy, we pray. You dwell in the knowledge, in the joy, in the happiness, of knowing yourself as you do. And that is all. And that is all. And that is all.

And dear one, understand, it is all there is to do. You have done all there is to do.

Do you understand?

Your job, from the point forward, is to give away the keys to the kingdom, without ever saying a word.

We urge you to still your tongue and let your other abilities come to the fore now.

We speak to each readers heart now. Each reader, each old one, hear us and feel us, and wonder if perhaps it might be true for you, too.

No longer must you study so slavishly, though we do enjoy speaking through the materials you choose. How can we not? We are in love with you. We must touch you. We are touching you now. We love you into stillness now.

You may drive and think on the image we have given you, and each of your readers will come to conjure up a handy image that takes them swiftly into bliss.

There is something there for each that has been brewing, cooking, readying, and has indeed been delivered, just overnight, as they say.

This is another reason we ask you to do this daily, just for a time. These solar blasts are mighty, and so are the gifts they contain!

Each of you are now connected to us. There is no longer the filters which kept our whispers silent. Can you hear us? You hear the buzzes, you feel the plucking, you all get the headaches. We soften as you soften, loved ones.

Do you see?

So sometimes, the context is someone who is hungry and wants to have a bite of your apple. You need not deliver a sermon, or even say a word. You hand over the apple.

Sometimes the context is your writing a novel, passing a pill, telling a joke, petting a cat, calling someone who you sense may be in fear or pain.

Do you see how easy this gets for our needle?!?

You need not light incense and put on the pretty music, although we prefer it, as you wish. Always and forever and a day, as you wish. Consider that our heart song to yours. As you wish.

You need not cloister yourself further. Consider the doors of your home, your heart, your very fields! forever open to friends and family, and everyone encounter, everyone, everyone, everyone, is a friend, and everyone you encounter, everyone, everyone, everyone, is family.

And those now entering your fields, from this time on, they simply sense that in your presence, there are certain expectations of conduct. Expectations need not be met. But when they are, oh does the dancing get hot! Sweaty! Orgiastic! One your side and on our side of the veil. Your work can be quite sedate, dear ones, as sometimes it still must be, but do not doubt that when there is mutual respect, when others sense that you offer only peace, and they need not feel shame near you, oh does everyone rejoice!

That’s why you climbed the mountain.

That’s why it hurt so bad.

That’s why you often felt like nothing.

Sing the song of the shameless, the blameless, the guiltless, the fearless.

There is power in shedding this gift of your fathers, a gift you meticulously and methodically and with great love and foresight gave yourself, if truth be told!

But it is gift from a male energy that is unbalanced, that chose to be deaf to the proclamations of love that were never spoken clearly, anyway.

This is an old gift, and you know the importance of honoring a gift, any gift, any gift at all is sacred, and it is profound, and it is deep. Any gift.

And this one was such that without it, you would not be sitting here tapping on this keyboard, mapping out a very interesting future.

So, how is it after the null zone? Do you remember now?

We told you that nothing artificial would remain. Of course, you took that quite literally, as did the Pueblans, as you yourself incarnated and interpreted it, on the plains of New Mexico, and then visited with that beautiful entity who loves you so very dearly. You stood on the very dirt of your family estate with her! Ah! The symmetry!

Do you think you are alone on these grand adventures? Oh silly one! Why do you think we are writing this day, why posting this seems more important to littlemind than going and getting your chores done?! It is because others’ time lines are also closing within their consciousnesses, and you are so verbal, and a little pushy, and pretty opinionated, truth be told, and far too coarse, you must work on that. But, really, come on, honestly now, do you think you’re so special that you’re the only one in the universe who is experiencing this.

Now we have you laughing.


It’s the same damn thing we had to repeat to you again and again all through puberty.

That’s why it’s so familiar.

As was the language, and we thank you for your tolerance of your love of appropriate profanity.

Back to life after the null zone, and then we will end, yes? This is a complex one. Fun, though.

We told you that nothing artificial would remain. Nothing that was not natural could be sustained. It would be vanished. It would just be gone, and you’d have to figure out how to get along without it.

We reminded you, did we not, twenty years ago, to ready for the null zone? Be ready for the time when nothing artificial remains.

Do you remember our first, our primary admonishment, to always be honest? Recall now why we said what we did.

We told you there had been an alignment, a shift, and as such, it would be increasingly impossible to hide anything about yourself.

We helped you, week by week, to learn the ways of true honesty, of true shamelessness, of true acceptance, and we showed to you in all of our encounters just how valuable you were, in all your affected and really pretty convincing victimhood and sadness. The homesickness, that needed to be addressed. It was a bit of a malfunction, truth be told, but most of the first wave have it, so this is another reason we are here. To help calm the nerves of the oldest and bravest warriors among us. You. Your readers. The rainbow tribe elders. The ancients, we like to call you. Makes you feel good, we know But it feels good because you know in your ancient heart that it is true and right and straight and pure to say this word in connection with you. You know it to be true, and so it is.

And so it is.

This was the reason we came to visit you, love, because, dear one, you decided to bury your great light, and you were needing to remember how to unbury yourself. You set it up that your burdens would be too great for you yourself to carry. Do you understand now why you know what you know, and have known what you have known? Is it beginning to make sense?

There is not one reader with their eyes on this page, at this point, who has not been just a breath away from leaving this earth, many times, most of you, many times, and it was always surprising to you when you came back, and yet it was never really in doubt, was it?

Most of the daredevils did it consciously. The poets did it metaphorically. The religious ones did it through addiction, many times. And many of you did it while you slept, loved ones.

These were simply journeys your consciousness had to make to get you comfortable with the notion that there is no death, to own this on a cellular level. You understand about the stability of your own soul as a result, and you would not have really understood this had you not flirted with your own annihilation quite so much.

Many of you lived out the termination sequences again and again, and were more than ready to assist in the termination which was a possibility.

Remember, those who know of the termination codes also appreciate the codes to activation and active, full on ascension.

But none of you had to do it, and each of you are deeply gratified that the destroyers did not have to once again plunge this experiment into stasis, waiting once again for another chance.

Because there really was no chance like the alignment, and there as no other way. It was a decision point, a turning point, and the beginning of your lives now.

Remember, you of the first wave, that you are of the earth, but you are not from the earth. You came in to help. You came in to do this thing. You came in to hold the awakened DNA, and then pass this awakened state to others through magnetic induction, and the very power of love itself.

Your bodies are beacons of divine love, whether you want to cop to it or not.

Get used to it.

It is funny to us seeing this management you have done with so much grace and humor, riding these understandings, playing with us and yet going to work, conducting business, satisfying people who do not conceive of these ideas, who would cry if you spoke of them, who would be quick to anger and dread.

The thing is, we instructed you well, and you understand now that this is the time for the first wave. It is now occurring. We have much to say about this. We gave you a parable last night. We will stop dictation soon, but rest assured, yes, finally, the information which you handily forgot about the days after the null zone, this information is now available. There was a reason of your amnesia, and we wish to explain it before we sign off. Before this we will say – this is the day of loose ends. Do not attend to these, your own looses end in anger, fear, dread or resentment. Do each joyfully, find fun in each unpleasant task you have preconceived as unpleasant. Many of them on your schedule today are highly so. But these are your assignments. Start remembering our heart prayer to you, as you wish, dear ones, all.

Now. Where were we…We speak of your amnesia.

You have been disappointed and worried because there is much you do not recall about our talks. So be it. Do you recall what we told you about your home planet? We wish for you to end with this because we think that the readers will get a kick out of it.

We listened to your fervent pleas, to tell you all about where you come from. Your longing was so heartbreaking, magnificent, such a burning we felt from you, lighting you up so. We loved you so very much during those deep days of despair. We know that being around us was all that mattered to you, and being apart has been painful. We love you and want you to know we never really left you, we just have not been able to be experienced by your senses, such as they were. Now you know this is true, and that this is the difference in consciousness, the key to so much.

And the amnesia we allowed to settle onto our words is the same amnesia you have for your home.

We told you that it was called the blue planet.

We told you it was beautiful.

And we told you we could tell you no more.

Oh how we wished to give you more, but remember what we said to you, our reason for our gift of silence, dear friend.

We told you that if you knew more than its color and its incredible beauty, you would remember too much, your longing would overtake you, and you wouldn’t stay.

Do you understand the profundity of what we said to you that afternoon?

We leave you with that, we each and every one who ever reads these words, and every one who does not, who turns away, in disinterest or fear or revulsion, each and every one of your now, the changelings.

We leave in the arms of an angel who loves you only as your ancient mother can. How can she be apart from you now, after all this time? How can she really leave you now, now that you can hear, now that the stereo system is wired for sound for the entire universe, and the very needle making the heavens sing is within your forever open, grateful, loving, tender, soft, giving, generous, heart.

Dear one, you may be the needle, but your DNA is everything else that was described.

And one by one the lights are coming up, there are all sorts of phonograph players sounding out, and the music, the beauty of this music, it is nearly deafening.


But not enough to be able to bend into your ear right now, and speak to the part of you that knows us as yourself. Let us whisper, speak, love you now and forevermore.

Thank you for what you have done for us, and for yourself.

Until tomorrow.

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Deeply Awake — From Worrier To Warrior 1-15-14 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — From Worrier To Warrior 1-15-14 By Kathy Vik

I have much to report to you today, and expect this could be a long one, but I think what I am anticipating is not length but girth, so to speak. The thoughts, the events, the understandings, they have come at me fast and full since my last essay, and it is wise to let come what will come, to share with you the point of it all, and discuss, then, how I got here, since this is my way.

Although my last essay may not have been the best, something happened to me after writing it. I felt so good, so unburdened afterward, and these sensations followed me, seemed to increase as time passed.

I had to scratch my head about it a few times. Within the essay was, I thought, nothing all that new, but, the act of writing it, and its contents, surely, led me to peace, to a clearing in a very congested wood. Usually this sensation comes after having written something of brilliance. My last essay was not all that brilliant. And yet, there I was, feeling like a newly minted coin.

I had been anticipating seeing Lee Carroll, being in Kryon’s presence, for many months. The date was set, Saturday, January 11. The whole thing had the absolute pristine quality of high, high ceremony, of sacredness. I think back on that day, and the night before, and my preparations that morning, and it still floods me, a stillness, that place I have reached at other important moments in my life when I know, I just know, I am doing God’s work, and God indwells me.

Because I have let much time pass, unpacking the events which followed may indeed be a longer project than not, but still, there are things to tell you here, now, today.

I think, now, that the biggest gifts I got were not even in the channel. Dr. Todd and another guy got up and did a tone jam, after Dr. Todd’s talk.

I preface this with telling you I don’t know much about what folks call toning, but that, when I was in tremendous pain in my hip, probably six months ago, while in a state of meditation, I was led to place my hands thus and so, and to utter the most powerful and weird sounds I have ever uttered.

I know now I as toning, I know now I was remembering, and I know now that this is something deep and true, just for me, maybe, but so precious I want to share it with you. I never questioned the importance, or the reality, of my Lemurian roots, but again and again I was shown, I could do nothing but conclude, that this really is my heritage. How nice.

The jam was so freeing. Any sound, any sound, it came, and there was beauty and humor and delicious freedom in each sound. They toned, and then many of us chimed right in, and I found I knew this way, I had memories, I had a knowing. Again and again, I knew I was remembering a home, a time of great happiness and integrity, home here on Earth.

The morning of the event started powerfully. I got there early and, after finding my seat, chosen months ago by me in meditation, anchoring a corner, I got up and looked at the vendors’ wares. I went to the Lemurian Sisterhood Crystal Pendant table.

There were crystal pendants, that my physical mind told me looked awkward and odd. Then one called to me. I picked it up. Good God Almighty. I held it, and from somewhere I am no longer unacquainted welled a tremendous wave, of longing, of home, and of homecoming, celebration, relief, such relief. I didn’t have the choice. I stood there holding that pendant, crying. Weeping, actually.

I did it discreetly, but weep I did. I smiled at the vendor lady, and the lady said, don’t worry about it, I have seen this reaction before. She was kind. I said I was light in the wallet, and she smiled and said, “Then you come and hold her during the breaks.” I did just that. It never got sold, that one. It’s mine, you see.

That was before the first welcome had been said to the group, before the doings. It started with a bang, with a gong of recognition and homecoming.

It was harder than I had imagined it would be, being in that space for nearly twelve hours. I felt, again and again, the desire to get up and co-present, or to at least add my two cents and augment the discussion.

I felt this dissonance acutely. Me, a simple nurse with a sad backstory and no letters behind my name, no long history of being a “healer,” no having given myself over to this counter-culture, I felt that I had no right to feel adept, and yet I knew of my right and ability to lead such a day, helping others. I felt awful, at certain points, sick with wanting to lead, and knowing it was inappropriate. It felt like nausea, but it was deep and it led to many changes, I will tell you.

I think that the worst is over. It took a few days to heal, to really really heal, and the holy people who helped us all that Saturday are my friends, my loved ones, each adding to a cacophony of dissonance and recognition within me that has since turned into a symphony.

By the end of it, and the day after, I felt as if what I have devoted my life to these last two years was as thin as paper, as precious as an innocent, as in process as a fetus. I felt unjustified, and I felt unlettered, untested, but fully certain I deserved more than I have allowed in my life thus far.

I will now tell you of a dream I had during these days of healing I have had. I dreamt I was in an old car, like a Rambler or a Studebaker, with three people I knew to be my angels, part of me, but bigger, and yet, they were just as physical as I. I wasn’t driving. We were driving up a hill, and I looked outside and saw a big river. And then, I saw an unthinkable thing.

A flood. A great swell of brown water was surging down the hill, and the water coming was, I knew, completely transfiguring the land and river. It could be no other way. Nothing could ever be the same. It was the big one.

I flashed to the enormity of the deluge, the great flood, the one that wiped everything away for one last chance, the chance we are now in. I turned from the sight in peace, excited in that weird way I have always had, when I see such events, sort of relieved, I guess, and excited.

Next, we were in a pastoral scene, and we passed over a bride. Under the bridge was a river, and the water was clear. I saw scores of lambs who were also dogs. They were lined up, three across, and this went on the for the length of the little river, hundreds of animals placidly underwater, very neatly. The animals were stock still, as was the water, really, but I understood that these creatures were fine, they were still somehow alive, but their state was one of being underwater now, that this is what they are now.

Then I was in a school, and I was changing into different items of clothing. I had my friends with me. I was a teacher, and I was a motor mouth, and so happy to be changing out of my wet clothes. I’d never been touched by the flood. I had gotten wet while teaching, others had gotten my clothes wet.

There was so much more to this dream, but that’s what I caught. I layed real still, wishing to capture all of it, and I thought on this fresh dream as I always do my dreams, wanting to capture the essence of it, knowing the visuals were much like mnemonics, so I laid there asking to instill within the images the understandings I had reached. I was told, I understood the following:

There has been a flood, and many people are now under water, the ones who have always done what the other guys has done, those who have felt it impossible or uninteresting to question, all of them are now still alive, but immobilized by this clear, clarifying water. It is not mine to grieve for those who now are underwater, and I was told, and understood innately, to not grieve for them. They are fine. They are fine.

And then I am told, notice where you were in relation to the flood. Notice you were never alone. Notice you had a light heart and you were safe throughout. Notice that you were a teacher, between scenes, between classes, so to speak. Notice you were always traveling, and that you consistently were safe above the destruction. Notice how lighthearted everyone was, how much joking and good humor and reassurance there was all around you.

This dream helped me a lot, as did another one I had just before seeing Kryon, in which a very very young man, still a virgin, but virile, he professed his love for me. He just loved me so much. He knew me, and loved me, unable to reach my maturity, incapable of it, but with such a pure, bright love. He brought me Korean, in little boxes and told me he was going to bring my favorite food to me every single night. He loved me, loved me, loved me.

And I felt sort of detached by it, but not creeped out by it, which is a real biggie. I chose, in the dream, even though there were others, mature, whip-smart, creatives who knew me and wanted me, I decided this pure love was more important to pursue and dwell within than any that could be given me by the others, with their deep thoughts and sparkling conversation. I understood this raw, unfiltered, eager and true love was my path, and after he complied with my insistence he tell his family of his great love and his decision to ally with me, we sat together at the play we’d gone to see, and I was home, loved and oddly more complete, sitting in that auditorium.

I tell you these intimate things because I think it matters to do so. And this, I think, is what has changed for me, most of all.

During the Kryon event, and especially when he was channeling, I saw my body all lit up, and I could sense there was a dark plug or cork in my pelvis, a plug which needed to get popped out, and hard as I tried, it wouldn’t dislodge. I asked for help, for continued support, in uncorking this blockage. I understood this was causing the hip and back problems, and it was purely energetic, and would, indeed, get dislodged, but it would take time.

I found the channel, frankly, quite distressing, and I rebelled against it. It caused me to feel great impatience, feeling like someone out of time and at odds with the times I now find myself in. Grand impatience. Impatience that felt like I was drowning, despairing, enraged, even.

The time of incremental change and coaxing the lost, who are leading us, to sanity, I feel, is long past, and yet, there sat Kryon, somehow finding a willingness to feed breadcrumbs to tyrants and oppressors. I hated that part, have no patience for it. It made me angry, to be honest.

But what sandwiched this ugly was what I needed to hear.

This is now a time of support for us, for me. The stairs have been climbed, the summit has been reached, and the struggle, the incredible hard work, is over. Yes, there are stairs to descend, and new muscle groups will be screaming just like other groups screamed on the way up, but it’s all downhill from here. There is support. Watch where you put your feet, but take a moment to see that the hardest work is done, the effort has resulted in a tangible change of condition, and allow a warrior’s peace to replace the dogged determination I once ate and drank and slept.

I took from this channel that the work was about to begin again, but it would be easier now. And I guess that is what I was rebelling against, that there has to be any work at all anymore.

And so, now, let’s move to the increments which allowed a great healing, ok?

The day before the Kryon event, my dad invited me out to the house for breakfast on Sunday, and my teacher Norma called to tell me the hen circle was on for Sunday afternoon. I remember thinking, well, isn’t that a nice turn of events, my day-after-Kryon all lined up so nice and pretty.

I see now that these great teachers of mine, disguised as they are, were in cahoots, were always part of the healing.

I will not discuss the particulars, but let it be known that the breakfast was a difficult one, altering, and powerful in its rawness, its ugliness, in its dissonance. My responses to it, not the event, let’s say.

I made it to the hen circle ragged and spent, disappointed and in such distress that I was crying in the car, crying as I sat down, overwhelmed was I, overwhelmed with a sense of despair and fatigue and disappointment that felt freaking cellular. It was, of course, to get me to the place where I could release that plug, unpop it.

I know I am being obtuse, and that’s just going to have to be ok this time. I will tell you of my meditation, and then continue.

Our last session of inner work had Norma, under ArchAngel Micheal’s direction, to place ourselves in front of us, and to talk with our selves like our Higher Selves.

I have learned, in meditation, the value of the twist, of feeling as if I am twirling, twisting, from my body, from my countenance, at the level of my thorax. The first time I did it was visceral, unforgettable. This time, the twist felt organic and easy. And I understood that I was talking as a golden being, my golden self.

I saw the sights I always see when channeling, and I understood I was able to then talk with, see, and love the me I have fashioned through the last 52 years. I was overcome with compassion for myself, as her, I loved my hair, my teeth, my stories and longings and disappointments, and more, my triumphs, my kindness, my intelligence, and just what I have done, and become. I felt love for my foibles and quirks, the things I often fall back into self-reproach for. I loved it all.

And so, we were told to build a fire, there in meditation, and to place in the fire anything we would like to get rid of.

I tried writing stuff on paper and burning that, but it felt unsubstantial, inappropriate for the fire, and too ephemeral. Suddenly, I realized I had brought a suitcase, a big black one on rollers. I pulled it up to the fire, and tilted the open case into the fire, and out fell an impossible amount of moist, unburnable junk, just tons of it. Once the case was empty, I thought, oh what the hell, and tossed the case into the fire too.

Even though it shouldn’t have, everything in that case, burned up, was just gone, and the ash lifted to the skies. There was time, in meditation, so then, I decided I could just get rid of all of it. I summoned a garbage truck, the kind that mechanically poops out streams of garbage. I backed that thing up to the fire, and it was the funniest thing… only one little thing got pushed out, and plop it landed in the fire, fizzled, burned up. It was a little toy, I remember.

I felt new afterwards, and when I told the group about what I did, they laughed and laughed, because I had burned up all my baggage. I laugh now, too. That’s exactly right.

But the thing that healed me the most of all was what a woman in that circle told me. I was in distress, and had completely and with disciplined abandon unfurled my pain for them.

She said, “You emit such love, you just give it off,” (and the others all said, oh that’s so true!), “and you’re trying to figure out how it is someone could act so bad, and, Kathy, the problem is you CAN’T understand it. It’s not in your nature to understand this awful stuff. You don’t have to make sense of it. Just see that it is not something you can even relate to.”

And then, as I was processing, I said, “I don’t want to do this wrong!”, and there was this great soul, again saying, “You aren’t doing any of it wrong. You can’t. You’re doing everything right.” Hugs, tears, relief.

There came upon me a peace, a gratitude, that I find so beautiful, so strong and pure, sitting there knowing I was being healed, not by a great channeler or a world-renown philosopher, but my friend, who said just the right thing, at just the right time, who let me have my tears and my fears and my doubts, and who, big as day, bright as the sun, told me I was ok, I was doing fine, I was love itself, and to just relax…

I have no way to ever paying her back, and I guess that I say that because I understand that I have been given something by her, by all my friends in that circle, that I needed, and that only they could give to me.

I think that the biggest gift I got at the Kryon thing was my impetuous decision to attend the three hour Lemurian Sisterhood ceremony. It was the highlight for me, and because I really do not know how much of it is ok to share, I will tell you of a few things, and the impact it had on me.

Thanks for reading along. I feel so good talking to you. I love you, you know.

I want it said that I am in deep awe and reverence for how Lee Carroll conducts himself and his enterprise. I felt none of the pushiness that I feel in the general marketplace, with the products sold or the messages given.

I felt so honored, and so loved and respected, in that group. There were some massive egos in that room, but Lee was not one of them. A gentle man of peace. A good man, a kind and honest man, acting in integrity and honor. That I responded from a wounded place within me, the place of a leader without following, well, that is on me, not him.

The Sisterhood event was high ceremony, and led by a gentle one, steeped in metaphysical tradition and training. What has stuck with me are the exercises we were led in, and the meditations we had. It was so healing. I have long felt awkward as a woman, knowing I am powerful and not having any metric for it but maleness. To be around women who were also powerful, fully embracing their divine feminine bodies and beings, oh, this was the most healing of all.

Acknowledging we have awarenesses that men do not have, that we have a sacred power specific to our gender, oh my, this was central to it. To feel no shame as a powerful being, and to do it in the context of feminine power, this was key. Permission to be a powerful, knowing woman.

Again and again, it seemed that the theme was that we all take turns, healing and needing healing, in the group of women. Each able to help the other, each in need of help at times, we take turns on the table, at the center, we each can submit to help, and give what is needed.

We take turns, we women of power. Sometimes weakened, strengthened through the act of allowing others to minister to us. And this theme played itself out in my little hen circle. Being unable to do anything but crawl to the center of a circle of great lights, and lay there immobilized by the crushing weight of It All, and allowing another to love me, and by doing so, heal me, each of us had that experience that Sunday, its genesis in the rituals of the night before.

And so, it is time to discuss how it is that I have moved from the state of worrier to that of warrior.

Yesterday was one for the books. There was a ramp up of this energy Monday, several things coming to my awareness, in my activities, which were hard edged, an edge to everything, feeling out of place, but centered. And then yesterday. The troubles at school, with the teachers, it continues, but now I have such a strong advocate working for me that I can, and will, I have told her, let her take me inside the folds of her cloak, and she will be my protector, my champion, and my guide, through the next bit. It is ugly, what has been happening there, and without this help, it would be unbearable. I was confronted, again and again and again, through the day and into the night, with such rank stupidity, such bizarre stuff coming right from the center of fear itself, again and again, yesterday.

This morning, I understand some things.

I understand that this next part might get tilty from time to time. People are off their nut, a lot of them, acting in bizarre ways that I cannot fathom, and often cannot seem to predict or know to expect.

I used to get so upset when people acted badly. I felt implosion within me when confronted with unthinking, unkind, punitive behavior. I felt it might be mine. And, you know, sometimes it was, it really really was, but, I have moved from this now.

I understand that there are people, now, just like those lamb-dogs, who have gotten caught in the flood, and the water is a clarifying kind, one which makes these beautiful creatures act in odd and bizarre ways.

In meditation, after burning up my junk and my suitcase, this is what I was told: This is what you have trained for. All bets are off ( a favorite phrase of The Teachers). You are ready. Expect the unexpected (three times repeated). This is what the training was for.

And I see now that this might indeed be true. It’s not appropriate, now, to wring my hands in the face of grave imbalance and wonder how I brought it on, if I am the cause of it. No. And recognizing it does not make me bad or wrong, as loudly and hatefully as others may level such a lie. And shining very brightly while the trouble is going down, I am keeping my head, now, and staying within my power. This is the key.

Kryon said something in channel I wish to repeat. He said, turning the other cheek and staying in the power of the Love Of God, this is the path now. I think I was rebelling, that I would have to do this, that I would have to turn the other cheek, I did not like the thought of it.

But, the truth is, there are folks out there, in the world I know, who are unable to curb their reflex of attack, who act obscenely, minds and hearts overcome with the darkness each of us have battled and conquered, through these last years. There are those who are not in balance, not in alignment, and this will, I am thinking, only become more obvious. If I approach such things upset and saddened and a wreck, self-referencing and in despair it is happening, I can not be of help.

And this brings me to divinity.

Ever since the Kryon event, and during it, I kept feeling, seeing, me as golden. I could feel, even when I was working on Monday night, my body turn golden, and I felt like a golden one. I felt like a living angel. When it comes upon me now, I can feel my chest heat up and start tingling, and then the body flush. I feel my chest turn bright silver, with a huge geometric spinning within it. It has the quality of being like a new gift that I keep getting to unwrap, and I keep being floored with how good it feels.

At work, during one of those moments, I looked up at the monitors, which show every hallway from two angles, and I want to tell you what I saw. I saw a man’s face, looking at me. It was long enough and real enough that I unplugged my earphone and hid my phone, because I thought it was a stranger coming, who might think bad thoughts about my watching youtube at work.

I felt like it was a friend, and I got a flash, once I realized there was no man, no physical man, I heard, he’s on his way. This is the face. You wanted to know who is coming, and that’s him.

Your friend is real, can show up on the monitor, even, and he on his way.

He is real.

I saw him on the monitors. I considered asking the staff about whether the data is on some sort of recording, because I would have loved to search the tape for this face. But I smiled, knowing it maybe would and maybe would not show up. It was a gift. And the golden angel thing just burned and burned through me then.

Divinity. The whole Kryon thing was steeped in this message to me, to all of us. Kryon said, look a your Akash, understand that your DNA has within it the encodings of the grandparents of this whole project, millions of years of divinity, and you think you can just turn your current divinity on and off anymore. No. Walk in it, know it, own it, and act from it. You are divine. You are divine. You are divine.

And the Lemurian Sisterhood, the biggest gifts I was given were the prayers of acknowledging self, other, and all as sacred. Owning and walking within sacredness, within and from a knowledge of, not a hope for, divinity. Owning that I am a divine expression of the love which has always walked with me and guided my life.

It is hard to manage feeling this when being attacked, when being disrespected so thoroughly as I have been lately. It is hard, but it is no longer impossible.

And this takes me from the worries I have had, the anger I have felt about how my little life just will never work out the way I want it to (cue the mewling and tears…) to knowing, understanding, owning the truth of it, that as a divine being of light, as a profound truth-teller, and a powerful angel of limitless love, imagining that my little life will never work out is just an exercise in self-pity, fatigue and disbelief.

As a worrier, I thought on how I have failed. As a warrior, I understand there is nothing here but divinity to express, to experience and to integrate.

So, now, I want to have a little walk through the punch line, and then I will end for the day and do other things.

The punch line is that I have always wanted to know I can handle myself, to know I am intact, to know my power and use it well. I have longed for this work to be read and used and seen as something other than the mad scribblings of a narcissist. I have wanted to be heard, understood and appreciated for my wisdom and wealth of knowledge and my great thoughtfulness.

I have wanted to be valued for what I bring to the table, talents and abilities which are, frankly, immense. I know I will never, am incapable of the abuse of my power. And yet, I have spent a lot of time fretting that this writing of mine is not an act of power, but one of vanity. I know it isn’t true, but I have had a deep worry about it. I have thought it is not valuable because so few see it as valuable.

And the punch line is that what I have feared the most is just my getting into the jumpsuit. A friend in my hen circle teared up when she expressed her inner desire to be more fearless and spontaneous, when she is the hands down the most fearless, spontaneous one of the group. And here I have sat, fretting that my great ability and love, this writing of my soul, is unimportant.

The worry is not fitting of the work. Of course it is valuable. If only for me. It has saved my life. My power of melded emotional intelligence shines through every line. What is on the page is what I have been and what I am becoming, and to think it is not valuable is the real ugliness. A trick of the dark, and that is all.

Seeing The Other as someone who may not actually be a direct reflection of my inner state is a breakthrough of unprecedented proportion.

In a sword fight, with an aggressor coming at me with a sword that can surely slit my throat, wielded by a madman unaware of his or her innate power, that is not the time to dissolve into a puddle of tears, or doubt, or fear. That is the time to understand that all those years of training with the sword has made me a consummate warrior, one who has already won the skirmish, and one who does not want to draw blood, who wants to use her sword to quell the aggressor, and demonstrate that the aggressor is outclassed, from before the battle began. I can use my sword to deflect murderous blows. I can use the blade to catch the sun and blind my opponents, bringing them to a still place, one which cannot and will not support further aggression.

I am a warrior of the light, and I am no longer afraid to speak my truth. I trust my words are gentle and kind, true and just, and that this heart is one which is unwilling to harm. I am unable to harm, and maybe that is the biggest punch line of them all. A warrior disinterested in fighting. Someone quite capable of simply decapitating the enemy, wanting instead to lead the enemy to a clear brook, where we can lay down arms and have a nice chat.

There is no fight left in me, I have said again and again in this writing, and it continues to be true, but the last few days have shown me that this next part may be punctuated, with moments of standing tall, bringing myself to full height, and using all of what I have become to help another.

This can be done in clever ways which will not draw blood, and after the battles which I expect may be part of the weave, I will rest, lay down the sword this silly aggression mandates I continue to wield from time to time, and I will sit with you, dear friend, and we will talk all about it, how hot we get in our armor when in battle, how relieved we are when everybody can just put down their weapons and laugh out loud, and we can, too, take time to think lovingly on those who are still so convinced that the way of it must include mortal combat. We know, by now, that we cannot die, that we are protected, and it is we who have made ourselves undetectable.

I end with a thought I have been having lately.

The Teachers trained me for this time. They told me there would come a time with the light would become very intense, and the dark would fight tooth and nail. I asked them, well, it’s happening already, so why is it that sometimes I lose?

They said, you know, sometimes the dark appears to win, in a battle. Sometimes things look a little grim. But it is not true. The light always wins, and this is what will improve. You feel beat up now, they would say, but you just wait. There will come a time when you will not be beatable, and you’ll know then that time is.

That time is now, my great, mirth-filled, profane, sainted friend. That time is NOW.


Deeply Awake CHANNEL — Mountain 1-4-14 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake CHANNEL — Mountain 1-4-14 By Kathy Vik


The timelessness of the soul is what is at issue here today and we wish to discuss with you this truth, but first, as we have with the entity through which we flow, we wish to give to you this energetic gift.

We understand that the physical manifestation which is your life, in all its complexity and with all the longing and joy within a human beating heart, we wish to ask you to rest within our love for you, your love for all, and to dwell, if just for a time, within the limitless journey of your soul.

How can we tell you that which it is difficult to language, and how can we express the magnitude of benevolence creating your bodies now? Understand that this breath of golden light, which clears all temporal thought and brings one back to center, this is what is now manifesting on your beautiful orb, and within human hearts.

We caution you this day to refrain from allowing anything but the truth of love to crowd your senses. Allow this to flow from your heart, and let it reside always in your consciousness, your physical body now sings a song, a deep and powerful chord, not a note, but a chorus of song is streaming from you, yes you, your physical body emanates this song, and this joy of creation is now in synch with the song we sing in your honor all ways, always.

Understand, we pray, that you are loved beyond measure, and there can be no other way of it. Situations which appear frightful, as set-backs, as disappointments, understand dear ones these are readjustments only, devices only, and your soul has created them with the mind of god on the other side of your awareness.

See all as benevolent, for it is, all is benevolence, and all is in order.

We say these words about order to still your hearts, often quivering in anticipation and anxiety, waiting for the next little bit, some sort of proof, many ask for and many are now able to begin to receive, perceive, yes.

Perception is the key, consciousness is the gateway, and we tell you that thinking on these grand thoughts is not an idle thing, nothing to hold contempt for, nothing to fear. Your dreams speak of a state in which you already dwell and know as home. It is where one can see clearly if seeing from the heart of your being, your soul. T

his does not mean that the symbols which your mind carries from the dream state are tantamount to understanding. Your images are less salient than the sensations, the understandings, the core concepts which defy sentence structure.

Now is the time for all who seek to find, and this, we tell you, is not about reward, but about balance.

For many lifetimes, in whatever roles you chose to create, yours has been a path of lightbearer, and this light was suspect, it was fought against, and it was often extinguished, in the physical, because, dear ones, it was not yet time.

Understand, we tell you, we ask you, we pray, understand that your time is now. This time of fight, of struggle, of a posture of powerlessness, hopelessness, of doubt and intrigue and lurking disappointment, this time has ended.

Did we not tell you that the loaf of bread often cannot easily distinguish when the heat has finally been turned off? The loaf still emanates the heat from which it was created, a heat which alchemically changed a lump of dough into a feast for the masses, and time, linear time, must pass before the fully prepared, beautifully baked bread can be eaten. Time must pass. And pass, it has.

This is a letter of rejoicing, and of confirmation, and of celebration. We tell you to drop your anxieties knowing some cannot, some will not, some have convinced themselves that to do so is unsafe and will lead to their demise, and we tell you now, the opposite is indeed true.

It was good and right to be cautious, to mind your energy and modulate, and it has been said that the path you have been on has been one of dysregulation, of modulation, of recalibration, and we say to you now that this time has passed. The oven is off. The heat which turned simple dough, well seasoned and perfectly prepared, into bread, the heat is off, and a settling, now, a cooling off time, has come.

Allow yourselves space and time to rejoice. See to it that your fears are seen as the constructs they forever were, simple devices to assist you in realizing that you and you alone have endured so much, so much, and you are held in high honor for your perseverance.

There are many, now, who have begun to feel the stability this new dawn is to be forever honored as. Can you imagine this, stability, when so many of you have known only its polar opposite? We tell you that the completion brings integration, it breathes a sigh within your physical body, your beating heart, alive with this stability, not only of purpose, but of expression and knowledge.

Unshakably assured of your own worth, a solid knowing now begins to overtake, and this is the way, to know, day to day, regardless of circumstance, that you are whole, you are intact, you are more than this expression, and from which you come is so loving, so benevolent, do you now see, what emanates from the divine is divine?

Can you not see the sense of surrendering to the truth that, if conceived, in the mind of the All, that its emanation, within and throughout you, is also divine, is also of love, it is love. You are love.

We ask you to laugh, often and much, and to see that often times it is a simple choice, taking things personally and then hating, or seeing things larger, and being able to laugh. At yourselves, at circumstance, at the weather, at the indomitable spirit who conceives and then tells the joke.

This is not to say that in struggle there is no room for tears. This entity is a crier, and the tears are good, they are fine, and feeling frustration, panic, fear, oh, dear ones, this is fine too, but can you not see that it is not fear that is the opposite of your being?

There are no opposites to your being, and that is the point. To think that any amount of darkness could overwhelm your beautiful souls now is a pointless and quite incorrect summation. No.

We tell you, you do not have an opposite, and fear, loss, anxiety, worry, problems, they are constructs, but they are not the truth. Many will come to understand that these states are flimsy, they are paper tigers, all, and it is nothing but social conditioning which makes thinking on them seem valid.

The cultural imperative to worry is passing away. Let it do so quietly, respectfully, honor this old paradigm, but let it die, dear ones.

Do not prolong its own agony.

Do not feed it. Let it pass from you.

Let each have their interpretation of their lives, and tell no man how to do their own lives. This is not as powerful as your own living in your good humor and trust. A trust that goes far beyond its currently understood parameters. Trust which passes through you so completely that peace comes from deep within, from your core, and this is the way of it now.

To end, we tell you of the great gift the entity has now. Of course, to remove the littlemind, there are devices, and hers is a sequoia tree. She becomes sap, she now travels instantly to the light, moving from the corporeal and into the gateway, and this, we say now, is only half of it.

Upon reaching the white light she joins when as a sequoia, she then understood, saw today, that this magical tree of life which has given her so much, it is one of many, and it is on a mountain.

Understand, you are each holy mountains, and there is much upon you which has occurred, will occur, might and might not occur. See that you are indeed an ancient and holy mountain, upon which many will fret, love, die and be birthed.

You are a mountain into which ancient holy trees have grown, taken hold, and now stand as living monuments to the sanctity, the impermanence and brilliant purpose of physical life.

A mountain upon which many will live, have lived, and are living, but is the mountain changed, is its definition or beauty altered by the comings and goings? Is the mountain changed in a permanent way when it hosts a camper?

We tell you the answer is only yes in one circumstance, and that is when a holy woman, a holy man, lies on this mountain, breathes with it, loves it, and becomes it, with the human being’s heart and mind, and when the mountain and the human become one, in love, through love, with honor and respect and great love, then both are enhanced.

Remember this. The mountain cannot be harmed if people on its skin are bickering. The mountain can, indeed, become so allied with its essence that such situations no longer occur on its beautiful skin!

But it will always welcome, support and nurture those who come in peace, in love, in honor and respect, in union, and it is the ones who know they have within them their own holy mountain who are miraculously sheltered, miraculously fed and even clothed.

Become this mountain in your daily practice. See to it that the machinations of a dying energy be understood and loved as simply that. Love is the answer, honor is key, and embodying that which you have become, through the lifetimes you diligently held light, this is the way to peace, within and without.

We leave you in deep respect, in unending joy, humor and laughter, we ask you to think of this mountain often, this mountain you have become, and allow yourselves to discover the vast riches you contain, the stores of abundance you have within you. There is no passivity in this profound place. There is power, there is alignment and there is grace.

You are loved, you are love, and we honor you in all ways, always.


Deeply Awake CHANNEL — Stilts And Fires 7-8-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake CHANNEL — Stilts And Fires 7-8-13 By Kathy Vik

It is a blessed relief to be here now with you and giving you what has now come to be a need ready for its fulfillment.

We ask you to make your way among men with a few things in your bag of tricks, because although we are assisting you in the use and amplification of certain abilities and proclivities, this is a training ground which each designs things individually.

The lessons, all the lessons, do have a bit of a universal bent, do they not? And as we assist you in culling this experience, learning from all of them, helping you to see what is at play, and that what is at play was never a reaction to some event, some 3 d event, all of this, the whole tableau is before you as a lesson in love.

It is perhaps a bit disappointing, have you found, that the realizations contained within your minds are then expressed, and when you express them, they sound like a hallmark card, but you MEANT them differently, but the only words available, that seem appropriate, now strike you as oddly generic, unable to contain what you know?

Mistakes can be made at this juncture, and have been, in the past, and so we are here to help you to speak words of truth regarding this reality.

You will have your own language, or visuals, for this, but each of you with the ability and willingness will become more and more acutely aware of what a person is capable of understanding. You will know.

And when you are given this knowledge, we ask that you are thankful, and act accordingly.

There is a test in this, is there not? Confronted with a child who is beside himself in anger and grief because his special toy was broken through an accident, how do you behave?

Do you begin to keen as well, and recount all the lovely things that you cherished with your heart that are now gone?

Do you tell him that his toy does not matter, that it was made of an idea, and now a better one can come along?


You reach out and you hold that child, and you don’t even hear his words, do you, as you encircle his tender body and he comes to see that what was large is now small, what seemed a disaster is really just another day in paradise, and that supper’s almost ready?

Do you see now, or are you beginning to see, that many of you have gone on, and know that the toy was a trinket, because you grew up.

We wish to impart no shame, none at all, and we do insert here that the guide, the writer, has been repeating with abandon, “what is the point” or words to that effect, for all that she can see around her is vast fields of children angry and crying over their broken toys. She has no one in her consciousness who is not upset about something which seems absolutely enormous.

We understand that many of you are beginning to see this, and we wish to ease your minds, because what is the hardest about this phase is that, you, with your hearts as open as they are, you are in a perfect position to soothe, to ease, to nurture and heal those who are in extremity, but what you have begun to find out is that many do not wish this intervention.

You must come to some peace, our brothers, our sisters, all. You must come to see that your willingness is all you are responsible for, and see how far it has taken you! It is all you have ever needed.

We are being asked for practical help, and so we oblige. We love to surprise the host.

Seek we pray three things.

First, we ask that you seek to know, in your body, the sensations of unworth, when they are being layed upon the energetic table, and when you are asked then to put them on, told that these are what you are to wear as they are the only things that indeed, in truth, fit you.

Where does this hit you, when someone you love or have just met turns from you, or discounts your real and flashing love with words of hate, or with grievous misunderstanding and rejection?

We would suggest of course that this is something that is happening, shall we say, below the belt. It is a gut feeling you are knowing and usually it hits you in the gut. You can feel a burning, or a tearing, or a deep ache. But you’ll feel it. Something isn’t right. The energy is not well matched.

Then, we ask that you scan the environment, and by this we mean your own body, your own room if you are on the phone, your environment, And if there are others, scan the whole place, scan it all. Just take a moment out and feel your way into your physical reality. If you have to excuse yourself, so be it. That is why placing someone on hold, or going to the bathroom, can become a very helpful tool for you.

Now. Sense, the degree of openness, just scan for openness, or whatever word is your trigger. This is as much to get you unhooked from the orange as anything.

And then we ask you do one more thing.

We ask that you remind yourself of what you are doing. Just that. Just notice that you are doing what you are doing. You feel your stomach, or wherever this energy comes to your awareness in your body. You then put out your “feelers,” and then, you become aware of what you have done.

Try this the next time someone is inviting you into their arena of fear, of rejection, of being harshly judged.

Understand this can be done, all of it, in a blinking of one of your eyes. Do you understand that?

We are here to tell you that this is as much of a trick of the body as it is of the mind, this sense of separation, of being apart and alone and not fitting in!

Graduates, you will not fit in!

Do you understand that? You will not be fitting in, and this not fitting in, it will only intensify, so we ask for those who are having trouble with this to gather and let us explain, dear ones, dear ones all, so worried you are, so worried you are failing some test or really harming the other by “not being loving.” Oh dear hearts, we must soothe you now and what is the most soothing is the truth. Always,. The truth.

Ask yourselves some very basic questions when someone is giving you a particularly hard time, yes?

Ask yourself, look or think on this person and ask yourself,
Does this person fear their reality?
Does this person fear me?
Does this person demonstrate joy?

Listen to what they say. Are they telling you of the many many ways that their life is out of their control? How little of it they understand? Do they tell you of all the people in their life who are against them, making things tricky?

And, with this person, are you now more fully understanding that to expect a mutual conversation about the wonders of God, the wonders of your own Selves, to expect such is really misreading, mismanaging things.

It makes everyone upset and everyone disappointed in themselves, do you see?

And who is in charge of this?

Do you think the worried one, the anxious one carried away in their doubts and fears, are they going to be the bigger one, the one with more valor, or is it the one who perhaps is a bit more studious, a bit more introspective, who can put an end to the panic, perhaps not for the both of you, but you, you can at least do this for yourselves, and this alone will help immeasurably!

We now give you the picture of a very beautiful, darkened old time theater,and in it is playing your most favorite movie. You are very well pleased, to find yourself on this evening, in this theater, watching this movie. A bunch of happy coincidences had to happen, or something very much like it, to find you here this evening. You smile, eat your snack, and enjoy.

And then, one by one, your fellow movie goers, one by one, begin to leap out of their chairs, and spontaneously, loudly, and with no real physical counterpart proving their reality, one by one they jump up and holler “Fire!” One by one they begin to run around the theater, unaware of what is on the screen, the whole idea of movie going suddenly, to these patrons, a silly and superfluous and meaningless thing! Movies! Ha! This fire, this is real, the movie is not.

And there you sit, cool, comfortable, wanting to watch the movie.

Consider this is what is now happening for some of you.

And can you imagine what it would be like to be one who is feeling consumed with flames, to look over, and through your scorched eyes you see someone who seems to be ignoring you? Still watching the screen, eating popcorn, as you are burning alive!

How would you feel?

Angry, we would say, angry and resentful and scared!

Because the ones sitting, cool and happy, eating and watching, they are also alight, but they seem ok with it!

We want you to have this image, and to use it when in relation with those who are convinced they are on fire, they are dying, that they are in an emergency.

Our loves, it is, for them, just as it was for you.

Do you not remember?

Have you so soon forgotten?

We know you remember the confusion and the pain which comes with breaking through that which is false. We know you have not forgotten, and many of you, you are walking through your days with your hearts bleeding for those who “haven’t gotten it” or “don’t understand.”

Who are you to say this about another?

Who are you to know what is in another’s heart, what their path is, what their timing is?

Who are you to tell another how to do their life?

If someone, and we do mean anyone, attempts to bring you into their panic, you are well within your rights to do so, and to panic with them. It is part of the process, and you must do it a few times to see the nonsense of fearing that which is feeding you, creating you, breathing you, this fire. The fire we speak of does not consume. It illuminates.

And that is why there are old ones lining the theater, and you can consider them fire marshals, we like that image, but the old ones are in the back, and they have seen this show a thousand times, and they have since found that there are certain subtleties, certain moments in this film, where the film effects the patrons, the patrons respond, and then something brand new is created.

Can we ask that you create a tidy and cool portion of movie house? Can we ask that you be fine with being consumed by this fire as you watch your show, and to not get too excited when the ones you came with, the ones who always swore they were tough, tricked out pyros, as one by one this fire touches them, they will act in any number of ways, and the score, the film images, the theatre accommodations, everything adds up to an interesting show. But it is all rather ghoulish, is it not? The whole idiom, it is clunky and it seems unnecessary, the idea of flames and conflagration, as you silently and happily make good efforts to engage in your movie.

We ask you eat your popcorn and not get to worried when someone comes to you angry that you are not also up, hopping, frightened out of your mind.

You have been through it, and you have had your eyes on the old ones in the back since you entered the movie house. You like how they act, you like that they can hold peace when even you could not.

We are here to help you to remember that every single patron, every single movie goer, PAID ADMISSION. This is a voluntary thing. And anyone who lays hate at your feet for acting as you do in this bizarre set of circumstances, they are they ones who are in need of help, not you.

And what is this help?

There are more than a few who have asked this question with regularity the last few days, and we hear the question: How can I help the ones who are scared, and especially those who refuse help? Being calm seems to anger them. Dousing the flames don’t work, because folks just re-ignite. What to do, what to do?

You did not come this far in your process, dear reader, to walk away from those in need, did you? Of course not. You walked this razor’s edge to get a real good feel for how it works, so that it can be dulled for anyone else who wanders across it. How can you then fit in with all this pain and fear you see displayed?

Quite a pickle.

And we surprise the host once again with this:

The difference between those who enjoy their popcorn while being consumed by their fire, what makes them different from those who are convinced they are going to die, that their flesh will bubble and char and fall off, what is the difference?

First. The ones who sit, happily, quietly, you, these are the ones who have already had their time jumping up and down, hallucinating burned flesh and disaster. They may not look it, but the ones just minding their own business, YOU, dear ones, they were the biggest babies in the world. The worst. But they did it a long time ago. They are just old, not as old as the marshals, but old.

So they know a thing or two about what is going on.

Here it is: The flame is not stopping, and everyone really is on fire.

How is that?!

If someone comes to you with a knife sticking out of their throat, and they come up to you in tears because they have a sort throat, and you tell them, well, that is because you have a spear coming out of your neck, and they get mad at you, and call you names and tell you that you are crazy, who is the crazy one? You have just had an encounter with someone, dear one, who really wants to have a messed up neck. Let them.

You see, this is about PERMISSION. It is about ALLOWANCE. It is about BEING WILLING.

If all around you, everyone is now beginning to experience the revelations you have come to see as commonplace, and they come to you upset because their world is unpredictable and hostile and hard, what is the proper response?

First, is your life unpredictable, hostile and/or hard?

If so, you have an ally, someone here knows your road. So compare notes, that is ok.

But if you are in a place, for the day or the hour or the year, when you see that life really is a gift you are giving yourself, and everything that is coming to pass is sainted, then when someone comes to you telling you of horror, of their unpredictable and hostile and hard life, then, is it really necessary to dig deep and go there with them? Does this help?

Does it help the patrons aflame in the theater?

Acknowledging the greater truth and leaving to one side the beliefs of weakness, of this particular problem being bigger than the person who dreamed it up, this is how to proceed.

We know you wish to erase for others their pain, make it easier for them, and your wish is to ease, remove, unbind, the heaviness so many have brought through to this day.

This is a good and right urge, one we ask you not shame internally. It is fine to want to take away another’s pain, that is very nice.

But we ask you, had someone given you a parcel with all the answers you have been given through the years, and through these astounding last months, and there, in that box, was every single answer to every conundrum which has brought you to the very brink of madness sometimes, we ask you, would you be able to just assimilate it all, in an afternoon, or in the space of a phone conversation?

We are asking you something which is quite literal, in fact. Many of you receive huge boxes of information, and you are using this information daily, and we are so proud of each of you for going free form, being abstract, letting us, letting yourselves guide you. You simply do not comprehend, sometimes, how much courage this takes, and how few hold this in their consciousness as an ideal!

Oh it is a good a true practice, one which leads to peace.

Acknowledging the fire, acknowledging the disaster, acknowledging the broken toy, this is first.

This is a good way to start. Yes, your toy is broken. Yes, you are on fire. Yes, the sky has indeed fallen, yes the bottom has dropped out.

Yes and yes and yes.

And then you wait. Dear ones, it will be hard for so many of you, so hard, and we ask for your forbearance.

You must wait.

Sit there and eat your popcorn. Conjure your favorite beverage, your favorite treat. It may be awhile.

Our host has asked repeatedly this last week: WHAT IS THE POINT?

To come this far and find that so many are still in no way open, in no way willing, shut off, shut down, and indeed quite hostile to the fact that everything is just fine.

What is so difficult with seeing that someone is unhappy and very, or even uncommonly, committed to their unhappiness, and just seeing it. Just seeing it and loving it and knowing that you were once there?

Where does that fit into it? And how can it fit in at all, when the suffering are busily asking for help while biting the hand with which it is offered?

How do you make your way in this world, masters, when the world is not quite sure what to do with a master?

Why come this far if no one is coming along, if there are not conscious centers, available nerve centers of light in every city? How will you survive this next part, if you are the only one in your movie theater munching on popcorn, pleased with how this flame you inhabit is illuminating your mind, your heart, and making the movie even better than you remembered?

How about try laughing, we ask?

Right out loud.

You can see the ridiculousness of it, and you can see the silliness of it all, and when you laugh, do you see how fetters are broken, just popped right off? There is an elevation in thinking, and in mood, with laughter.

We ask you to see the absurd, and admire it, right there, in the middle of your difficult conversation or your lonely walk.

We tell you now that mainly, the trouble you will find is located in where you have come to find yourselves.

It is many times like when you are waking from a dream, and for a moment are not entirely sure you are anywhere at all.

In such a state, can anything perturb or shake you? No. You are unconnected.


And so, here it is.

You have been deposited on a shore of which you have only heard. And the thing is, all of the things around you, they look just as they did, yesterday, the day before. There is a static-ness to it all which you should actually pride yourselves on, rather than curse yourselves for.

But, do you think it might be wise, if your vision keeps getting obstructed by movie patrons on fire, to maybe consider just leaving that one particular movie house?

We do not wish to bring you upset, dear loves, and so we wish for you to just think on this , for now.

And if you believe that there is nothing more to life than the theatre you have found yourself in, then perhaps what is lacking is not ambition, and it is not maturity and it is not creativity, not really. What is taking place is you are just now getting an idea that what you have always taken for granted, that “movies” must be “watched” with “others” in “the dark” and there is no other thing to do, not really….

It is this thinking which is being challenged.

If you find you are the only calm one in your reality, then perhaps it is time to reorder your reality.

If you are the only one who seems to have a handle on certain ways to live, and these ways have brought you much peace and love and happiness, what is so wrong with being pleased with the gift of the movie, the movie house, the whole experience, blessing the whole ball of wax, and then getting up and walking out?

Do you think that when your eyes adjust, that there will be nothing? Nothing to explore or see or experience?


Many of you have indeed walked away from careers, spouses, many situations which were not conducive to your truth.

May we please ask you do it one more time?

You have lightened your loads, many of you, and a few come into this last theatre with nothing except a desire to see a show, all their possessions, all their worldy possessions, long gone, long gone.

If you are so unencumbered, and you are not enjoying your experience, we ask that you get up and go outside.

Metaphorically, perhaps, but the trees, the earth, the sky, the sun, they are all waiting to guide you home, all of them, so going physically outside, not a bad idea, but we mean here to allow you the thought, that giving yourself permission to walk away from that, AND FROM THOSE you no longer can find any modicum of satisfaction within, it is ok to walk.

Many have lamented this process as one which strips from the personality all that is not in alignment with the higher self. We wish to concur, and to say that all destruction is a blessing, and there is no such thing as mistake, or even a tragedy, but it requires you live on stilts, and many do not wish to go there.

We leave you with something which has re-surfaced, in a comment made by the writer, on facebook. We wish to give it to all of you, because it is time for this knowledge, and for its amplification.

We said to the channel many years ago that when experiencing a birth or a death, you are placed on what can be called energetic stilts.

These stilts are something you do not put on consciously, and they are very very obvious to everyone, just everyone, you come into contact with. A part of the other always knows if you are in a state of such expansion.

You see, when there is a physical death or a birth, your akash is begin expanded. You are adding energy to the soup it is that you ride around in. You are being re-worked, and these are ancient, and beautiful, passages. Deeply mystical.

You have noticed, have you not, that some deaths, some births, affect you, and some do not, when being honest. All change you, but some effect you on levels for which you were not prepared, you tell yourselves.

The one ahead of you and the one behind you in line at the grocery store, they do not particularly want to know what your view is from your stilts. Being on stilts makes you see things more clearly.

You see a broader perspective, and you, in your eyes, are holding keys to life and to death, in those weeks and months before, during and after transition.

Understand, our dearest allies, that as those who have chosen ascension status, dear one, you are on stilts now and forever more.

Some do not wish for you to describe the view.

Many do not want to be reminded that they too could be doing stilt time. The view is nicer, and the heart goes all calm on stilts. But many do not want it, and will turn from those who are on stilts.

This is what we did not tell the channel all those years ago.

Being here, being with us, and living your life as a poem, as a metaphor, seeing all that occurs in your life as an intimate message of love from yourself as creator, oh, this is a state which many say they long for, but few have been courageous enough to go.

You, dear reader, have made this trek.

You have come this far.

And we know of the pain that comes from never being seen, never looking anyone in the eye, since there is this mismatch, you see.

And so we tell you, and the channel, something we were holding back.

You very own master of love, light and sound, your dearest Jesus, how high do you think were his stilts?

Once he had has his transfiguration, he spoke about him Self in the third person, did you notice that?

How high are the master’s stilts from whom you learn? We ask you this in love, dear one.

How high does the Kryon see, what is the perspective of the elders, the ones who were the fire marshals, let’s say? How high are their stilts?

And yet, it was this loving master who took children on his knee, and found peace among his friends. He found those who were willing to walk on stilts, you see.

He went out into that crowd, and he gathered to him the ones, the only ones, who stood above the crowd, and he asked them to follow him, and they did.

Why did they follow? Why did so many leave their homes, their lives and their identities behind?

How nice it was for all of them to have each other.

Why would they have chosen to stay where they were?

They, too, were not being seen, not being heard, not being understood, being turned away from, again and again, dear ones.

That is the feeling you get when you are on stilts. How many faces, full on faces, does one see if they never get off their stilts? Not many.

We tell you that there are many of you now on stilts, but we ask that if you find yourself in the midst of turmoil and sadness and fear, you have simply fallen off your stilts!

The truth of it is that the road is as lonely as you wish it to be, and even the ones who turn from you today are doing so only because they too wish for peace, they too want to be still, they wish for peace with their fire.

You are sitting in pools of flames and you are not consumed. Do you get that? Those around you, they may act badly about this fact now, but there will come a time when your seeming imperviousness to flame will be what draws you ever closer to humanity.

You did not sign up for finding your self in the eyes of another, and this is a fact which, too, flies in the face of what has come to be seen as just a given, just a way of life, the only truly good and proper and whole way to do life, mated.

This speaks only to the human’s urge for completion, for integration, for solidity and unification, as a source of love and power. And that is all.

You know this.

And yet, for many, the road becomes even harder, these last several feet, and YES we said feet, not yards and not miles and not continents. Feet. You are that close, many of you.

We invite you to enter into he Grand Trine. We invite you into the doorway which is indeed already propped open, thanks to the prescient among you.

Master, walking into the sunlight, not feeling those old energetic pulls, seeing yourselves at your correct height, these are proper teachings.

But there is something missing, and we give it to you all now:

Everyone you encounter is on fire with holy love.

Everyone you know is on stilts. They are either crouching down, or they are standing up, but your natural state is a tall one, a big one, with a good, clear, honest view of such magnificence and benevolence, words pale and lose meaning.

There will be many who will tell you that your view is non existent, simply because they cannot see it.

How long will you remain in their prison?

The doors were blasted off a while ago.

What is keeping you small, hurt, in fear, afraid to move on?

These are the facts. There is not just one reality going. There are many. And if you do not like who you are riding along with, for whatever reason, but especially if they put you down, try to make you small, shut you up, well then, you have a decision to make, do you not?

Do you wish to crouch and say you cannot see up ahead, that your view is just like everybody else’s (and it is a god-awful one), or are you willing to just stand up, smile, and take the long view?

Here we say what is last to be said:

Allow others their suffering.

Do not think that it is yours to remove another’s pain, another’s path, another’s way. It is not yours to think thoughts about another’s path. Only to hold their hand, if they will let you.

If no one lets you hold their hand, dear one, hold ours. We are here. We have never left. And you will find that you will come upon others, very soon now, who are also tall, and when you are in company with them, all of you will begin to talk about your stilts, and this funny phenomenon of being too big for those around you, and you will take off your shoes and socks, and roll up your extra long pant legs, and you know, dear ones all, you know what you will find, do you not?

These long legs, these things you always referred to as stilts, these things that seemed to get slapped on you when in the middle of turmoil and unhappiness and change?

They perhaps at one time were stilts, but my goodness, what fun it will be around that first campfire, that first table in the coffee house, that first meeting in a basement, when you all roll up your pant legs and find that there are no stilts to take off, none at all.

You have always been this tall.

You have always had this exalted expression. This is your natural habitus, dear ones. The old stilts, they’d functioned as training wheels, as helpers, as assistance, a remembrance, a physical metaphor to a larger truth, yes.

You were born big. Born vibrant. And born able to assimilate and calm and love what it is you have created.

We wish the tall ones a very lovely evening, and thank you for your service.

Deeply Awake — It Is Ready 5-19-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — It Is Ready 5-19-13 By Kathy Vik

Oh, are the time lines merging for you like they are for me and all my people? Distant relatives, old homecomings, lots of things being tied up in very very synchronous and balanced bows, all over the place.

Are you finding this to be true for you?

I took a nap anticipating I would need to work, and I was very grateful for the rest. When I am awake now, it is such a full-on, full-bore psychedelic experience, it is good to lay my old head down and just be a creature again for a time.

I woke up and needed clarity. The dictation, it just doesn’t stop anymore, and I am glad of it, but I needed synthesis, I needed some sort of workable framework for what comes next.

So I read the light worker blogs, and, as always, me and Aisha North and John Smallman are pretty much all on the same page, but others are also echoing this new reality:

Holy Crap But This Is Super COOOOOOOL.


So I was feeling good, thinking, yeah, it’s all super weird and abstracting, but I am not the only looney on the planet, thank God.

And then I decided to meditate.

I am writing to you tonight in light, right on the website. The need to express, and also the fun I have writing in light in this way, oh, I just couldn’t stop from putting fingertip to web, and letting it rip.

So as always, when doing it bareback like this, be aware the typos will make this thing awkward, until second edit, sometime after I’ve gotten recovered from healing the sick for twelve hours.

So here it is. I sat at the edge of my bed and got real still.

I felt anticipation and excitement, somewhere deep, and I wanted some answers.

Next, I saw that same pinpoint of light, and lots of blackness all around.

I checked my physical body, and I am coursing with tremendous light, but there, in my awareness, a paltry, bright but tiny, but insistent, overpoweringly white light, a pinpoint-sized thing.

And I got a little p.o.’d then, and said, listen, this is not very cool, not being able to see. You told me this is my consciousness, this blackness.

And so I say, I do not have a blacked out consciousness. I want to see what is going on!

And with that, a pair of very large hands went up and pulled back a black velvet curtain, just like on a window, or in the Wizard of Oz.

And this is what I saw:

I had vision about as clear as when I don’t have my glasses on. It was very sunny, and I could tell it was a plain. I knew it was someplace mystical, and relatively uninhabited, and yet, I kept seeing movement. And I could appreciate that there were little tiny people, way down below, working, and I saw Egyptian clothing.

There was a great clay pyramid, and it made me sad to see, because it was a statement of purpose, and it was a sad purpose, to me. It meant that the magic in the world was officially gone, and there was a new feeling to this Earth. It’s like the Mother’s navel, where all her gifts come from, it got plugged up with that pyramid.

I could see it all formed, and gently settling onto the plain

And then, I understood there was a war going on somewhere, and even though it was still a sunny day and very beautiful Egyptian men were moving carts around and keeping busy, and were very happy people, I might add, well, I sensed conflict.

And the person who had opened the curtains told me then to turn around and stop looking out of the window it had exposed bare.

I did, I turned, and found it very very odd to be facing myself so in meditation. I’d never done it.

And then a very interesting thing happened.

As I turned, and I faced my body, I could feel a turn of sorts within. And it felt like a weird resorption, and then, I was looking casually out the window.

I understood then that “I” am one of many “I’s”.

And then, there I was I felt, like Shiva or any of the other Hindu greats, and I was looking out the window with me, with a little Kathy Vik, sitting on my big person’s right shoulder. Just perched like you see angels or demons perching on a person’s shoulder in the movies.

And then, all these other people started showing up. All around this entities shoulders, all around its neck, ringing it like a lei almost, were other people, all interested in looking out the window, all understanding we were seeing a great war, the last of its kind.

I was told that this war is the one the psychic on Friday had told me was causing such difficulty for me at the moment. And it was the same war that the Gita is describing. And it is not a war fought on earth. it is the war of personality self versus higher self.

And it can get a little crazy when the time comes for your little personality to turn inward and come home, but it has always been the way, and can be no other way, because just as Shiva had his babies, and just as God has many ways of expression, so you are more than you have thought.

And then a couple interesting things happened.

First, I saw that there was actually no battle going on. My vision had gotten sharp and I saw that the workers who were on the plain were beautiful and steady and holy. And they had just been clearing the path for the pyramid. It was still a lovely day. Somehow, it was just a matter of perception, whether those men fought and killed each other, or whether they shared a smoke after digging an appropriate hole, while they told each other jokes from time to time.

And then, the entity did something very very nice.

This big entity looked at me, sitting as I was on its right shoulder, and asked if I’d like to come on up.

I did. I found a ribbon of light and zipped right into that being’s eyes.

But as I did, I felt a part of myself just not as important, not as relevant, as I adjusted to this vantage point.

The entity said:

This pyramid is the symbol of the lower portion of your individual and mass merkahbah. It is readied. You see here that the capstone is on, and it is a beautiful summer day on the plain.


And they gave me the idea of an upside down pyramid lowering into the clay one.

i know it does not take a rocket scientist to know the significance of this symbol.


I did not get to witness the merge, because it is not yet time to effect a merge. But all is in readiness, they kept saying. Just kick back and enjoy this next part, they said.

So I will tell you what they told me in parting, I will try very hard to remember how we left it. And then, I go once again to work, to the hospital, to “normalcy.”

They told me these are the days of the harvest. These are the day of homecoming and celebration. This is the time that the wise use to love on themselves and congratulate themselves.

The difficult part has passed away, and there is no more pain, only that which can be conjured, and that which can be conjured can be un-conjured. Simple as that.

So these are days that I must be still. There is movement, and they keep telling me, as I pour my coffee, as I smoke, as I pet my cat, they say, they are always saying now, it’s complete. You are complete. It is done. Enjoy. Be still. Enjoy.

I will. i understand this next part whole, and pretty much know what to expect. I know, as my channeling proves, that these are days of great surprises and gifts, and that I have become so unaccustomed to blocking my good, that it is just tumbling out of the sky. And yet, there are still, from time to time, little hooks, little eddies of discomfort, and I know I will see them, encounter them, and be asked to hop over them at work tonight.

I will never again take on the role of tiny, unwanted, unrealized, afraid, quiet, scared Kathy Vik, the one afraid, the one absolutely convinced no one loves her. Unconvinced. So sad, so sad.

But I am not her, no, I am not.

And I may not be that entity who pulled open the curtains, but this is how I will leave it, an almost unbelievable conclusion to this meditation.

At the end of the meditation, I appreciated my body again. My short little legs jutting out off of the bed, touching the bookshelf I use as a side table. Just this little wrinkled, graying body. Ha!

And I understood, I just simply knew, that I am not only the supplicant but the one who opened the curtains, and the very picture I showed myself.

The meditation ended with them turning into the ones who counseled me nearly twenty years ago, who took me away from earth and showed it to me from a window, and asked me to look.

After they’d given me rest, with a loving hand of a brother on my shoulder, I looked at the earth. i saw it spin. I was unaffected. i really could have cared less.

Pretty, though.

And then I heard it, and then I felt it.

Cries, such misunderstandings, such torment, such pain. The suffering, all of it voluntary, all of it holy, all of in sanctified.

And they had asked me then, in my homesickness and my weariness, what do you want to do?

they said that I could stay with them, but I would probably soon feel I had made a mistake. Look again, they said. Feel it. Hear it.

And I knew then that there never really was a choice, not really, and this had been some sort of dumb exercise in emotional incontinence. They told me how it is for them. they cannot touch skin to skin. they cannot speak words that can readily be heard. They must do things in an energetic and symbolic way, but me, on earth, I can do more. I can touch people. i can listen to secrets. i can play with children and I can dry eyes that have been weeping. i can do that. i am well positioned for this, actually.

i saw then why nursing was not a bad choice.

And so I chose to return. The work with The Teachers, after that, went much more smoothly, of course.

And today, they are back, and they are with me looking out that window onto an Egyptian scene. They are with me and they tell me now how to proceed.

I do not have to be so clever now, and I know I can trust what comes out of my mouth, as free of filters as that has become. God help us all.

They told me to kick back and stop sweating it quite so much. They told me I certainly CAN go around believing I am a solar angel, if that makes me happy, because in a way, I am one. And I am other things too, and none of it means a whole lot if I am not laughing and having a good time. it’s all just dumb words if i am not laughing and easing people’s ways.

So I will do that. I have a good vantage point. i know that sometimes I will look up and all I will see is black. I know that.

but now I know to ask to have someone just open the curtain. And that will be done, always, every time, if it is for my highest good. And this is a cooperative anymore, so, if I ask, of course it is for the heights good.

Blessings to you this right night.

We are deep into the mystery now, at least my we is, and I hope your we is having fun looking out of their own windows. I am so looking forward to hearing what it is you see from your seat!!!

Deeply Awake — Travelogue, Itinerary, And Jesus 5-13-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — Travelogue, Itinerary, And Jesus 5-13-13 By Kathy Vik

Introduction – I sat down to write, and had a nice time, and then I got done and figured, ok, it was a long one, 7? 6? 8 pages? No, it’s 23. I have only done first edit spell check because when I do the second edit, I usually add to the work, and this is enough. So, I am putting it out there, as always, as it came to me whole, written in an afternoon, spell checked, that’s it. I have no idea, really, how it will feel to read… but it was AWESOME to have been given the gift of being able to write it.  Enjoy………

I did not know until this moment that I would be writing about my good friend Jesus, but there it is.

I have spent, well, anymore, I really can’t put a temporal marker to what is happening to me. It’s all metaphor.

Let me give you an example.

I had been listening to some Kryon, and then decided that I just couldn’t take it anymore, I needed a smoke. I looked all around for my extra pack. Nowhere.

As I was pulling on my shorts, I heard some shrieking in the hallway. It came to mind this was a new voice, and was probably the new neighbor Sam and I met moving in yesterday. Oh my, I hope she isn’t a crazy one, a mean one. Oh no.

And then I find my wallet and leave my apartment, and who do I encounter but our new neighbor. She is aquiver – someone, in thirty seconds, came behind her and stole her great grandmother’s skillets, in the hallway, she’d left for less than a minute… she was beside herself with the white hot rage one feels when they’ve been wantonly and deeply violated.

I told her a couple things about how good the people on this floor are, and the only trouble spot, well, surely if the kids in the noisy apartment see that it is skillets and not hardware in that HP laptop box, they’d feel bad, they’ve done wrong, they don’t want the stuff they took…

And then I went downstairs in the elevator with her. She was still stewing, so upset, so outraged and disappointed and disgusted…

I went to my car and found my extra pack… nearly full. Suddenly, going to the store is no longer interesting. It’s not lit up anymore, so I go back upstairs. And now I am drinking coffee, listening to Craig Pruess and Ananda, letting them fill up my home, my being, with the 108 sacred names of the divine mother. It is a fitting way to bridge study time with work time.

It has become clearer and clearer what my path is, what your path is, whether you have figured it out all the way or not. If my writing proves anything, anything at all, it is that we truly are witty, tricky, clever, benevolent beings.

All through my writings, all through my life, my beautiful and full life, there have been the answers, and the fabric it all the time was that of linen and silk, shiny and soft, that I weaved myself.

I set this up, and the only thought I am having at the moment is how obvious it is all seeming right now, but of course, at the time, it was necessary to have heavy cross referencing and overlays. It was imperative this awakening was foolproof, not on a universal scale, just for me.

This always bothered me, niggled at me, all through my life. It is something that can only be openly discussed here. So here goes.

Do you have a death wish? Is death something, for you, that you see as your ace in the hole? Your built-in escape hatch, your way out? I have. Death is always there if I can’t take it. And most of my life I was just a real good plan shy of doing it.

Oh, I know it sounds dramatic, and there are those who just naturally must turn away from expressions of strong emotion, strong reality, but let them turn away. It’s ok. I don’t need anyone peering in who does not have eyes of love.

For the ones who know what I mean, this friend was ever present for me. And I seemed to collect others with a similar outlook. I even had one friend who squirreled away the gear and enough IV Potassium to kill herself dead, instantly. She carried it with her, finally got a second hit to have at her home.

I know this sounds weird, but for the tow of us, and many of my other friends and acquaintances, death is not some big mystery. It’s the entrance fee to the next amusement park.

So, it bothered me, as the years passed and I was still alive. First, I was surprised I lived past 18. It was a shocker. And then, on my 21st birthday, again, there had to be readjustments. I am still here. I still have a pulse. IT still sucks, by the way.

And thirty. Oh, thirty, that night was spent in orgiastic dancing with my girlfriend and our gang. Celebrating in our favorite club, thumbing my nose at something that had ridden with me, free of charge, every day of my life, this voice, this knowing, this understanding, that today is the day I die.

And as I woke up, finally, this last time, I began to ponder this singular relationship I have with dying. I died up in Central City, converted as I was. I am certain my heart was stopped and started, in an after-thought, shadow sort of way. When your heart gets hit with light, everything must readjust. So I died, I know it, and have had some pretty sparkly NDE things in the last year, and yet, I have a pulse, I am alive.

I got sort of mad about it a month ago. How is it that if I am in charge, I am this God, how is it that I could want something so much, with such focus, such intensity, and IT DODN’T HAPPEN?

How does THAT work?

I thought I was in charge around here.


But, here I sit.

A much different creature than I was two years ago, one year ago, a half year ago, yesterday.

How is it that I can have this running theme of longing for death, and yet I live?

Of course, it makes sense to me now, and I mean right now, and could not have made sense this way had I not had the discipline to present myself to this keyboard like the devoted lover I am.

Death was a symbol. It was a metaphor. When was the last time I had the common sense to ask myself just what it is that death means to me, why do I want it so bad?

Death is going home. It is reconnecting and not going without interruptions in service. It is full knowing, not this shoddy kind of knowing I engage in here. It is free. I would be free. I would be happy.

See, that is death to me. Not being waxy gray and lowered into the earth, although, sure, that’s a cool part of it too, but, really, that was my soul cry.

Of course I longed for death, now that I put it that way.

I will tell you now of a story which occurred yesterday, entangled deeply, as we were, in the mystery. On our travels, we went to Herbs & Arts, a metaphysical store here in Denver. Just like a homing beacon, we woke up in vague probabilities, and what emerged yesterday, what we allowed emerge, was brilliant.

In the store, I found a tapestry of a woman in the Shiva pose, her with multiple arms, sitting in deep repose, all jewel tones and exquisite. And I found this CD. I visited my business cards, sitting in the business card exchange nook.

We left the store and put in the CD.

It is angelic, nothing else describes this sound. It holds close similarities to the music of the spheres, let’s put it that way.

And here we are, in my beat up ugly white 2000 Mazda car, my 12 year old and I listening to this ancient, blessed music, all the way home. Of course, we were transported.

Sam went to sleep. He is doing very hard work at school and among his peers at present, and he was exhausted.

We drove down Broadway, and I reached out my hand, entered his field, and could feel his higher self hold my hand and discuss his progress. We are well pleased, and I know he is fine.

The drive continued, and then I realized, OH MY GOD, I am going to have to get out of my car!

Oh my god, this bliss is going to end.

And then I laughed at the allegory and had my storyteller tell me a story. I will give it to you now.

When people who had never been in modern society were shown a fine New York hotel, part of Lawrence of Arabia’s entourage, their trip became all about the water taps.

They had not had running water. Their lives had been built around the necessary issues and steps which must occur when one does NOT have running water.

And here was water.

Upon leaving the hotel, it is rumored that they left with, or were discouraged to leave with, the faucets. The physical taps. They wanted this running water always, and mistook the source with its delivery.

I Remember now, the patient you had last week. She had three nurses taking care of her because of her panic and fear. She had no less than one hundred years of nursing experience pouring onto her. Away from her, at the desk, no one spoke unkind words about her. Physicians worked throughout the night for her, many late night phone calls.

In the morning, sun shining into her room, she complained so bitterly, with your narrator present, to this brand new doctor, someone fresh and uninitiated and with authority. She cried then, as she told him how no one had been her advocate, she should have just gone home because no one cared for her, she got bad care. I cried on the way home because of that. it was so mean, though to her it was not only her right, to see herself as a victim. That’s why that saying is so true: Victims are violent people.

And the voices say: You did not grieve for not having been noticed as the healer you are, as the nice person. You did not weep because her bitterness is the kind that can decisively break careers. No. You wept because she’d been surrounded by, blanketed with, fed and watered with divine love, and she had lain there completely convinced of her state of separation.

That is why you cried. And you wept as you realized in just how many ways you hold this posture now, toward your own life, toward your heart.

This was a giant soul, who did you a great favor.

She taught you, with this CD as a soundtrack, simply this:

The source is ever flowing and present in all ways, at all times, in every now moment, now and now and now and yes, even, even, this, yes, now too.

God is all.

You have been mistaking the taps for the source, love. And that is all.

But through it all, even as a child, a little child, I knew.

I knew it was pitch black around here, and against good advice and all that seems intuitive, I woke up, I loved, I gave, and I got here.

And so, now, listening to Kryon and studying Tony Stubbs as I am, completing this education as I am, using them as the guides that of course they are, I see now that the struggles I have chronicled, these struggles I have always been so embarrassed about, they are valid and they are there for every initiate to work  in their own way.

I understand that there is stuff I know that needs to be hidden, just a bit longer, because people still equate spiritual advancement for personality integrity and they are really two very different things.

And so I will tell you what I feel there is permission for, and tell you this at the same time. I understand now that these chronicles are meant, in part, to stretch things. I put something out there, and there are codes that are within the work, within me, and these essays are not only travelogues but future itineraries.

So I can go a little further now than before, and then I will wait, and when I feel more permission, more will come.

But I think that it is best to imagine that the only people reading this stuff are those who actually need it. I mean, if you are reading this, there is a reason. It is highly specific, in some respects, but deeply universal, and pregnant, just pregnant, with the third language.

I go back to my story. The voices told me, as the music played, that this is the music of God, of everything pure and not tired and fresh and true, symmetric, playful, deep, funny, pleasing, comfortable, real. And this is always around. The music gets pumped through my stereo, but it is just as easily coming through anything I can see or hear or touch. Everything is impregnated with source, with this music.

The music is playing all the time.

And this is how true this is for you now, they said.

They said, just think of it!

Now, when you physically get into your physical car, you can hear this music, physically. In between each of your errands, this music can play. It is just a choice now. It always was a choice. This CD was released in 2002.

And no disrespect for not hearing it before. It was there. It was just really hard to hear. If you’d had the CD, it would have been scratchy, or you would have lost it. You know how these things work.

Now the music is available. Enjoy it, and stop worrying. Test it. You do not believe us. Go get what you need at the 7-11. Then get back in the car and turn on the engine.

I did, in my mind, and it was real, and I spent the day doing errands and really getting it, there in my mind, how it physically felt to go a whole day of errand running and there, in the background, every time I turned it on, there was the music of the spheres.

It’s always been there, and it always will be. And it always has been playing.

You see, that is the trick of it for me.

I sit different in the knowledge now. I understand that I, as this personality, have agreed to a veil, and to be rendered ineffective by fear, these are devices.

Why did I do it? Why did I consent to profound amnesia?
Why did I turn myself away from the help offered, damning it instead, calling it a little and mean thing?

I did not recognize that which is love as that which is love, and that is all.

Kryon asked me, at the end of this last lesson, if I can honestly say three things. But he presented the three things first, and one by one, I ticked them off. Can you say: It is well with my soul. Can you say: I am that I am. Can you say: I am grateful for all.

Yes, yes and yes.

He was describing the match bearer, the advanced old soul, the ones in the room who have always been different, always off just a fraction, the one in your life that makes everything just a little tilty.

I have always served that function.

My guess is that you have too.

Here is the deal. It helps so much and I want you to hear it, feel it, right along with me, as I make it my own, OK? It think this will be great fun, if we can get it together, as a team, you and I, here on the page.

OK. We came into darkness. In this darkness, when someone bumps you, you attack. And there are attacks that come in the ink dark of this blackness, and this is not any good at all.

The darkness is a fearful place. It makes a person come to know fear, insecurity, anxiety, dread.

The darkness makes it impossible to know just who it is you or anyone else is, and there in the dark, it is easy to not see things as clearly as you’d like. Mistakes are made.

And there are folks tossed into this darkness who have a special gift.

There are souls here who can spark light in the darkness. They come in with a faint glow. They remember what everyone else seems to have forgotten, and as they age, this knowledge becomes more and more unavoidable.

You and I, we woke up in Salem, in medieval times, and we have been burned alive for remembering.

Light, in this darkness that we created, you and I, light here was not always welcome.

But light is contagious, you see.

And here we are, within the Galactic Alignment. I am 52, a good age to be alive in 2012. A perfect age, actually.

And I have been over here, in my apartment, getting really really good at sparking my flame.

I think this is why I had such bad agoraphobia at certain times in my life. My heart would break on leaving the house, and an anxiety would settle on my skin, into my lungs, as I rode the elevator to the basement, to get into my car, and go anywhere. Really, just any place made me have anxiety. Even the good stuff.

And now I know why.

I was leaving a freaking bonfire to back into velvet inky darkness.

And it hurt to have contact with people so unaware of the light, and so very condescending toward the bonfire consuming me, keeping me alive, connected to it as I am wherever I go, whatever I do.

See, that is the part that I didn’t appreciate.

I carry it with me.

You see? It is never gone. I am never apart from source. I am source. The thought is an invalid one, a weak and silly one. A device, and nothing more.

And I tell you now of my great love for Jesus.

This is a mystical union which I have never discussed, and there is much about it I never will discuss. Much must remain private, and that is not to separate or divide. This is just good mental, spiritual hygiene.

Jesus came to me when I was a little girl.

We were at the dump. This was the 60’s, when people understood that what they throw away goes and stays and sits somewhere. The dump. My dad would take us there on Sundays, and we went through thrash. It was one of my favorite things growing up. I found old, just ancient, postcards, musty, moldy books. The smell of those trips, oh, still here, I am enjoying it now.

And I can remember being in the backseat of the car, and there was Jesus.

He told me that I was to be like him, and my role would be to come to know peace and love. I would be compassionate, and very very wise, just sparkly smart, and I would be someone like him, in every way.

I can remember asking about the dying thing, just that whole mess, and he told me no, that isn’t the point. I am him, he is me, but he is separate, and I am to be like him, in my body.

So, there’s that.

We went home and probably had hot dogs and boiled carrots, watched TV and went to bed. Probably.

But it gave me an appreciation and an interest in Jesus’ life. I payed attention to the scripture, and I made sure I got bibles with Jesus’ words in red. I found certain passages in the bible that made me feel really good, really good, they still do, and I learned them.

I had permission to learn about Jesus, and to find out what he did, living in a Lutheran household. I studied, and I liked that Jesus was always there, this big weird mystery to solve.

In my teens, we saw Jesus Christ Superstar, first run, our pastor and the church youth group. My mom made sure that we went as a family to see Ted Neely do the JCS revival on stage in 1992. Fifteen years after that, I met a random person who had to give me a signed piece of art commemorating the revival’s tour.

In reference to Jesus, and this musical, I will say that I always resonated with the beginning, and with the teachings more than the death stuff, the politics and high drama.

I felt the message got weirdly hijacked, but it was still serviceable, and enough got through to help. That’s why I really appreciate the versions of JCS that end before the whole death thing. It’s just too slippery for me. And no, I know of no other word to describe that weirdness that happened in the desert all this time ago.

There is a lot that I could “speculate” on, which at this point I will not allow myself to do publicly. This stuff is real close to the surface, and deserves being sat with before it is discussed. But there are a couple other things as they pertain to Jesus.

Now I just want to free style a bit. I want to tell you of the things I am aware of , just about Jesus, but by extension, The Other Big Ones. Let me tell you from my heart, the heart of me in love with Jesus, with this entity. Let me just sing my love for him.

My understanding is a benevolent and encompassing one. I believe that Jesus is Buddha is Zoroaster is, is, is. There is one mind, after all, in the end.

I think that this one mind has had many incarnations on this planet, and some of them grabbed more headlines than others.

The Great Mother, The Universal Heart, the benevolence running the whole thing, well, here is how it works.

The faster you spin, the more love and information is available. And Buddha, Jesus, (I just use these two because I am lazy… think every saint, MLK, Gandhi, all of them!), their channels were wide open, because they agreed to come in without the veils, with the crystalline DNA able to perceive as we are now just beginning to.

They channeled the One Mind. This is why all great religions have what has been called a “golden thread of truth” running through them. Of course these greats reincarnate. Of course. It’s like grooves on a record.

But this entity, this mind, is available to all of us now.

Let me tell you what happened to me in 1993, could have been 1994, I’ll never know.

I was at church, in the choir loft of an old cathedral in downtown Denver, there for the early serve, singing in the choir, under the leadership of my old friend Jeffrey.

Jeff and I accepted our mystical love for God. We let each other be, and recognized that we were both deeply in love with God. I liked Jeff, had met him at the gay choir we were both in, about two hundred men and women who met every Thursday, just to learn songs about how great and poignant and beautiful it is to love, and then annually we would put on a huge show at the huge old theatre right downtown.

Jeff was the star of that choir. He had the voice of an angel and the personality of a devil. He was dirty and lewd and loud and funny as hell, and I watched him that night, of my first performance, beforehand as we creatives were running through the still empty auditorium, I watched him and thought, God, I want nothing more than to be in his energy, and I am just way too uncool for him. He will never be my friend.

And here I sit, in the choir loft, led by Jeff to sing like an angel for the congregants on a spring day in the early nineties.

I was reading the hymnal, looking for the mystical. I read my favorite passages, having completely tuned out the prattling below me. I was in the mystery, thinking about Jesus.

And right there in that loft, he showed up.

I cannot tell you that I saw him, because my eyes, they didn’t. But everything else within me knew that I was seeing an old friend.

He hung out with me and read with me. I do not remember it if he gave me instructions.

I think, as I recall, I knew this was a visit from an old friend. Not to check up. Not to inform. Just to love. Just to confirm. Just to put me at peace. Because that’s what family does for each other.

I remember now that I did tell The Teachers about this. How wonderful to have these memories being recovered!

They told me yes, he was there. He is alive. He is physical. He exists. He is your friend.

They also told me a lot about my time with him, in the old days.

This will remain hidden, just suffice it to say that I am not of the ilk who believes that I walked the earth as Jesus.

There are just some things, even with coming to terms with who I am, there are just some things that are not entertained, out of deep honor and respect. His work as Jesus stands alone, and it is to be honored, studied, loved, but never owned.
Never owned. Everyone owns it, it is our heart, it is our best attempt at the time.

And now comes the backflip with a lazy susan half turn.

We are becoming Christs.

You see, there are two parts to his name.

Jesus, that is his moniker, his personality name, his handle, his tag, his signature.

Christ, this refers to his home, and this home is where we all live.

I heard someone say that at the end, Jesus had no beliefs. It is not possible to get that high in consciousness and be able to hold a belief.

I think one of my favorite images will always be a painting of Jesus, kneeling before a boulder, in the garden of Gethsemane, and he is making hand farts, and the thought balloons above his hands read “Pfft!” “Pfffft!”

THAT is MY Jesus.

Fucking with his hands, making farting noises, right before he does his thing, whether that’s just translocating and letting the loco get nabbed by the po-po, or whether he really did submit to such foolishness as a crucifixion. My guess he was passing his time, quite pleasurably, in that Garden nibbling olives, looking at the stars, and occasionally making farting sounds with his hands.

It is well with my soul.
I am that I am.
I live within a grateful heart.

And truly, friend, this is all I have ever wanted.

What else matters? I have seen it, and I know, that you can have millions in the bank. You can leak cash, have it falling out of your wallet, and be so impoverished you wish you could die, or kill someone else.

I have seen people with every single advantage… beauty, familial respect and support, meaningful work, interesting hobbies, and their health, that one lynchpin, fails.

And it all comes crumbling down.

The person looks at the rubble, the lost house, the broken body, the fatigued friends and family, and there, in the destruction, like a single dandelion on a battlefield still oozing blood, and there is hope.

There is light.

There is something making all this go, making all of this work, and there has to be a reason behind it, yes? There has to be a reason.

I know the reason now.

I understand a few things I did not before.

And I know my role. I think I have a pretty good idea of yours too, and our friend Jesus would like very much to clear up a few things.

Jesus is as alive now as when it all went down. He was potential before that, and now, once again within Universal Mind, he is settling back into earth, but this time, he is doing it heart by heart, moment to moment, within our context, within our skin.

As a little girl, I could clearly see the advantage to being like Christ. I could give people peace. I would still them. I would have peace too, because people would be still and sane around me. They would remember, around me, who they are, and they would only be able to act in good and right ways.

Do you see, as I do now, why my life was a little tricky? I think I set my sights a little high.

It seemed entirely possible at the time, and just like, ok, here’s the assignment. It’ll suck and be interesting and you get this really cool thing with it. Yes, you will do miracles.

So, I think it is about time to let this lover of humanity out. I think it is time to see that he has been here the whole time, whispering in my ear, in the old language, reminding me of things I didn’t think were salient.

I think we are the new Christs, and I think we have his permission to do this thing.

Now, I think that to end this, I will use my imagination and imagine just what it is that Jesus would have us know at this moment. I know that he is with me here, and if I can get in the right space, some stratum of his energy can entangle me in a way I can hear and feel, and then he can instruct me more clearly.

I will try this now, and then I will end. I’ll do a first edit and put it out fresh.

This is good stuff. At least I got to visit Jeffrey. I love him and enjoy thinking on him, everything he gave to me, how rich and happy he made me.

Now let’s see what Jesus might think of all this stuff…..

You struggle with issues of identity within the great mind and we are here to help.

Think of your apple, and its seeds, please.

The apple hangs on the tree, celebrating its becoming, you see? The apple is in joy, and in a spirit of sacrificial goodwill. It is as it is, and it is perfect in its being. It has congruence, meaning, and purpose.

The apple will fall when it must, and not one moment before. Its purpose, to flower, its purpose, to develop into fruit, its purpose to nourish a friend, its purpose to seed the earth with its self.

These are mysteries, these timings, unknown to our friend the apple. The apple does not weigh itself down with these questions. Indeed, if it did, it would have remained a thought.

There is movement and there is sanctification in taking action, all those who slumber and those now awake, seeking validation.

You see, the time of seeding has begun. Your position has changed. Perhaps it was during the eclipse, maybe it was some other event, but you now notice you are on the ground.

You must understand it is no longer your time to soak up nutrients, to sit in sun and grow.

You are mature now, and your job is to offer your fruit up for consumption.

This takes an act of faith which each will decide upon, whether they have the readiness to test these waters, for they are strong, and the current is swift.

You will come to know what it is to be consumed and to be present and whole and ripe and unchanged.

You are not an ordinary apple.

The same sun and water fed you as your brothers and sisters.

They are on the tree. See them dangle there still. They are very beautiful up there in the sunlight, in the twilight, in the deep chill of night. They are doing as they must, just as you did.

You must now leave this analogy, because I can tell you are still thinking that you cannot do much, as you are, an apple without legs and without a mouth, plopped onto the earth to wither, to atrophy, to rot and go back to the mother.

This is an incorrect summation and must be abandoned. You are now, as you sail through the air toward the earth, you know now, you can feel it, your heart is opening now as you understand, all the dreams you have had recently about splitting off and reuniting. You see it in your dreams, and you bring it back in the morning and we appreciate how you sit, stunned, clearly reeling from what you are reminding yourself of.

We honor your assimilation.

The apple, as it is flying, just as you fly now nightly in your dreams, this act of flight, it changes the character and the ability of the apple. You’ve matured before the rest, and this is how you were made. You cannot hate others for not maturing as you did, since you don’t fully understand just how it was done quite yet. So hold no hate, no judgment, no fear.

Be instead grateful for this knowing you hold within now.

You have traveled far, and we are ever at your service. You are honored, you and those you write to. They must know as well, that Universal Mind is here, it is singing and speaking to you, every night, every moment.

We are a collective of entities and you had such trouble with the “me” and “them” koan. Do you see now? It is appropriate and desired for this mind to take on impossibly infinite variations. You see, now, as you go to work, more and more it is an amalgam of entities ministering to those you encounter, not only patients, but staff. You are sensing them more whole. You see them as separate from you, but coming from the same source.

You see them as differently faced you’s, and we caution you to steady your thinking now for this next part.

Although it is true that we are all made of the same substance, and we are all expressions of the same thought, you must understand that things are not as they seem.

There are variations, gradations, preferences and soul needs at work that you cannot currently appreciate.

We tell you that The Kryon is accurate and true. You are a Creator God, and you know this, and you shirk from it, but you know it to be true. You are an old one, and you know there are many old ones here now.

You know, deep within you, that everyone you meet, everyone you medicate, everyone you argue with, these too are all from the same source.

We now wish to settle you, little apple, and tell you truly of how things are for you in this life.

You have been playing with it for three weeks, and you know it.

You can feel it, and this power is all soothing, is it not? It is the truth of the matter. You are loved. They are loved. All is well. Nothing is out of balance. There is no need for anger. Fear not. Be still. You know this. You know this. You know this.

And we tell you now, this is your mission, this is why you came in. You are here to be a walking master. There are others. You are not alone anymore, not in any sphere. It is true you all walked solitary paths. You were alone. You abandoned yourselves utterly. It was quite a sight.

Each night, we mended you, each day, we buoyed you.

It was all for this day, and those to come.
Never again must you hide your light.
There are too many of you now to stop it.
You, all of You, have succeeded where you have failed in the past. You knew it was a gamble, and you knew it was a sure thing.
You each have had your walks in the desert, the temptations of christ still, at times, cloud your sensorium and become very real, quite ominous, they can appear, can they not.

This is a favorite treat of ours, this ability to cloud things with a simple thought, and the ability to right the Self with just one thought. Thoughts are portals, my friends. They are portals, all. Words, yes, and deeds, all portals.

You, now, the awake ones, you are walking portals.

You must come to peace with this. And we are instructing you, you are instructing yourself, nightly. Why do you think your sleep habits have changed? You are integrating physical with arcane, this is a lightning fast project, it is happening with more speed than anticipated, but just as much as the most hopeful around here held would come to pass.

You know that your civilization goes on the seed another galaxy. You have heard that representative, letters from the future. You know who we name now as Bashar. You know this, and yet do you feel it?

The only variable to this awakening is your degree of participation.

That’s it.

And you have decided you wish to participate by spreading peace in the physical, and dispensing information on the web. And for now this is very functional.

Get used to your power, we ask you now, all of your readers, we ask all of you to take this in.

This is real. You are awakening, and the enlightenment is physical, emotional, mental, sexual, political. It is within your very cells, within the atomic matter manifesting as cells. Do you see? It is manifesting in the heavens, with solar flares, eclipses, comets. It this there for all to see.

Do you see?

Do you see that it is good to go to work and love? Are you willing now, this day, to do it all consciously, from 7pm to 7:30am, wherever the reader may be, in the vet’s office,  or in a cafe, or at home, or school, or maybe in a friend’s car.

Can you embody compassion? Can you see nothing but love in everything you encounter? Can you be at peace in the midst of physical and spiritual suffering?

We know these are things you have mastered.

Why not have a little bit of pride in how far you have come?

Your difficulties with never fitting in, old one, ancient one, that is alright, and truth is, please do not be coy, you never really wanted any part of it anyway.

You hear a different music, one that you love, and you are pleased to know of many musical styles, but, dear one, loved one, old one, ancient, please, understand, we are conspiring in your favor now, because you are no longer conspiring against yourselves.

Allow this love to fill your fields.

Allow this love to drip off of your fingers as you prepare your meals, your patient’s medications, your bread, your paperwork.

Let this love, this knowledge of happiness and peace which you have no words for, let it become expressed in HOW you do your work, HOW you say thank you.

You ride the flow of traffic and bless every driver, each on their way, each driving to their self-appointed destinies. Do not ride against the flow, and do not curse your fellow travelers. Stay with the flow, allow it all, see it all as a poem that God HerHimSelf is writing in a language only the two of you can possibly understand.

Hold the grateful heart in the sad places. Hold the soft heart in the hard places. Hold the warm heart among the cold.

This task, this self-appointed task, this is the all. That’s it.

You agreed to be here. So removed are you from the thought of an accident, imagining that this is happening without your consent, without your very direction, is becoming quite laughable.

Are you A Buddha? Yes.
Are you A Christ? Yes.

Is your name Buddha, Gautama? No.
Is your name Jesus of Nazareth? No.

Were you a prince, and did you renounce wealth to find self? To find God?
Were you a lifelong student, a shaman, simple laborer, touched weirdly by a future you neither fought against nor resented?

You, your readers, you are the Christs returned to earth, and you know this is a role when you have reached a certain frequency. This is a role, a service, a joy, a mantle few can wear. You can. Put it on. Smile as you wear it. Never curse it.

You may put it in a drawer whenever you want to. You don’t have to wear it when you have sexual relations, but we encourage you to, with the right partner, in the right circumstances, to wear it while creating physical passion.

We ask you to be big, to stand as tall as you can, and to know that you don’t have a ceiling. There is nothing stopping you from attaining greater knowledge, greater love, than has ever been seen on the planet, now.

Of course, we did not say greater power. This frequency is the frequency of free will.

The Buddha, The Christ, Mohammed, Rumi, Gandhi, these men, they had an inkling, many of them were turned on full blast.

Dear one, we leave you with a thought.

You have been female this life. You have been sexually marginalized, and you have been raped. You have had your sexual and soulic power identified and others have tried to rip it from you. This stands as a tale many women know of, have lived, have survived, silently.

So, of course, you are not alone. This struggle happens in countless bedrooms, in many light worker’s life.

The next wave, the First Wave, the wave of Christs, they are FEMALE. See a return of Mother Energy, this frequency allowing male to adapt, gently, and female to adapt, gently.

Look for it, we tell you.

You must stop marginalizing, you must stop this thinking. It is one of the final frontiers.

There is a crystalline agreement that is being readjusted, and it will become, as you adjust, possible for you to see true worth, true, identity, true power, in the female. You all have inklings. You have not seen it yet.

The females reading this are switching on. Their males are not yet. They dangle on the tree. The women will meet. They will have groups, and they will have seminars, and they will be very inviting, they will allow men in.

These women have no fear, and so the phallus has no power, not really. Not anymore. It can be seen as co-creator, once reigned by an awakened heart and mind.

It is a tool, a grand and sacred one. But it is a tool only. It is not the foundation. Mother is the foundation. Woman is the foundation, Feminine is the foundation.

There will be great power, and it will come in waves, from the woman.

They talk about these miracles, how things will come about, how the new earth is to be manifested.

It is manifested through your kind acts, your expanded fields, your inclusion, and it happens through your children.

How many of you are SINGLE MOTHERS?

No interference with the male, primary caregivers, the source of training, with a peripheral male?

How many?

There is a reason for this divorce thing, you see.

Position yourself so that you may have children, or grandchildren, or access to children. We all have to. And we are working our greatest miracles there.

Unimpeded. Uninterefered with.

No one legislates parenting.

No one can.

And, really, we old ones, we would just ignore the rules anyway.

That’s how we are built.

OK… That is over, the blast is through.

I am left with knowing it’s cool to just be compassionate. If that’s all I do, if I can just be compassionate tonight. I must remember, compassion and gentleness are paired. It is twinned energy, but it is from gentleness that compassion blooms.

OK, I tell you this before I sign out.

Kryon said something today, and as he did, I was transported to the unit I last worked on. The nurses all started out cranky, upset, cursing the place, calling the patients names.

And I just kept radiating love and tolerance. It felt good. I just really could find nothing to get my underpants in a twist about, so I stayed quiet, did my reading, worked and answered lights and hardly sat down, actually.

He said, as I imagined that last shift, that when you do this, when you sit and radiate pure pure pure unconditional live, just see them as whole and loving and capable and free, and so loved, and you just give it away, well, it does a lot of things, obviously, but this blast may very well be the only pure love they feel all that day, or all that week, or all that month.

I thought then of my desert years. Those years when I was just barely hanging on, so dark, so squeezed was I.

And this is what I got from The Teachers. From my guides and teachers, here on earth, to whom I paid cash for their wisdom.

I got blasts of pure light, and it helped me.

There was so little about.

Now that the grids are loosening up and it’s so readily available, the memories that I have about the old times, the dark times, my life still on the tree, these are fading, and I am glad for it. I no longer need the devices of punishment and fear. I no longer need some of the more crude or dramatic realities to understand. My lessons can be soft because I am soft.

I think that Jesus would be pleased with my progress. I understand that he has come to me to remind me of things I should be remembering, when I need to remember them. He comes through in my essays, sometimes, and he is with me, steadying me, before I enter particularly difficult interpersonal situations which, well, they may not be of my making, but if I am in the middle of them, I may as well calm them down, because, when it’s all said and done, I am quite sleepy still, just waking up, and I like things smooth. I like things pleasant and pretty and, darn it, I’ll say it again, I like ’em sparkly.

I doubt that Jesus wore a lot of sparklies. He has never been described as someone who enjoyed accessorizing.

But I think it is awesome that these days we have be-dazzlers. And we can be just as sparkly, just as plain, just as flamboyant or silent as we see fit.

We are making this up as we go along, and the giving of love is not wrong, is never wrong, is always correct and timely and appropriate.

I have been wanting to know how to be a loving person, in the midst of hate.

He came to me when I was a little girl, to tell me it is indeed possible.

He came to me in my thirties to remind me of my mission.

He smokes clove cigarettes and cracks koans with me now.

If this is all made up, so what.

So fucking what.

My god is real, jesus is my friend, I am a living, breathing christ, this is attainable by every human, and it doesn’t mean anything more than I am, in the end, always an explorer, and my creations are these notes, and my world, such as it is, and the world will go on spinning with me thinking these odd thoughts.

The only thing that happens when I think them, is that I feel peaceful and people are nicer to me.

So I will go on thinking these thoughts, and more, much more.

And occasionally, when there is a break in the action, I will sit down and tell you a little bit about what is going on.

It really is a very lovely construct, for the moment, maybe for all my moments. We’ll see. It’s good for now.

So now I need to take a shower, andthen I go to work.

Chop wood, carry water.



Deeply Awake: Reviewing The Last Year, I Accept And Rejoice In All The Enhancements By Kathy Vik

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A soft and true talk on last evening and this morning’s inner travels, weaving in miracles that occurred at a simple party, and then looking forward, into a brand new time.

I share what has been my most profound new awareness: that this HAS ALWAYS BEEN and WILL ALWAYS BE a place where individuals have very different states of consciousness. It has always been a MULTIDIMENSIONAL reality, not a 3-d one.

Learning and assimilating this has soothed and quieted me more than any other awareness. It is weaved with other newly understood pieces of knowledge, so that what is offered is a tightly presented, beautiful talk on finding our way around, now that the lights are blazing and we have gotten our sea legs.





Last year at this time I gave a transmission. I watched it this morning after thinking deeply, and before getting up and going, and I want to share it, because it talked about future times, and I realized, after looking at things in retrospect this morning, that it was accurate, and remains a beautiful offering. Please enjoy…