Deeply Awake — Graduation Gifts: Fusion And My Cure For Tribalism By Kathy Vik 5-25-18

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A companion piece to my last video, “New Information On THE NEW EARTH AND ASCENSION,” I reveal some more punchlines, explain more about our ancient history, and laugh a lot, talking in a light, easy manner. No tears on this one! Hope you find it illuminating.

 

 

 

 

Here is the Spirit Science documentary I reference in my talk, where I reveal what I know about some very tucked away ancient alien history.

 

 

And here is the super beautiful and gentle Boriska, interviewed by Kerry at Project Camelot. This little boy gave me a ping, a soul return, and he humbled me very much. I would consider myself so blessed if I ever do meet this fine young man.

 

Deeply Awake — “Enemy Mine” In Print By Kathy Vik 5-19-18

 

Deeply Awake: Enemy Mine By Kathy Vik 5-19-18

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What I am going to present to you is the culmination of a lifetime, actually, and I’m going to entitle it Enemy Mine. This is the bookend to the first essay I wrote as Deeply Awake, on March 23, 2012, 9 years after a very significant event, Judas Energy.

I have wondered sometimes why it is that I have such a blunt edge, with my reportage? Why do I couch things in metaphor? Why do I see things as paradox, and then express them as essays? Why?

Well, there’ are so many things I’ve called myself, over the years, but there are a few epithets that are true, and they’re just titles, really. I’m a poet. I’m a philosopher. I’m a writer. I’m a reporter. I’m a spiritual journalist, I guess, but I write in ways that are more like prose poems than discussion of facts and breaking down of probabilities. I did more of that after 2016, but I have a flavor that is poetic.

Ok. Alright. Well, it makes sense. The very very first Akashic thing I did was to get real quiet, and state to everything in my fields, every… all of it, all creation. I was going to do a novel, and I didn’t know how to write a novel. I wanted to create something, and I didn’t know how. But the need and the will was so strong, I sat down and said:

I know that you walk with me. I just do. And I need for those who are willing, and of the highest, the pinnacle of their skill, of their insight, those who really, truly not only understand, but can express in ways that make the heart flutter, and the mind reel, and the soul come into focus. Please step forward and join me. Please come and be with me, in my mind. In my heart. In my awareness. Express through me. I’ll know. I’ll know. And I’ll let you teach me.

I have done my energetic management. I understand it’s quite possible to be labeled in this new age environment as being tricked, or listening to trickery, and thinking it’s true. Well, I think that’s what we are all talking about, as channelers and writers. One of my missions was to talk about discernment, spiritual discernment. How do you become someone who has Spiritual Discernment? Kryon also talks about Spiritual Discernment.

And I haven’t met, or heard, anyone in this community who hasn’t able to describe that they just know when it’s pure. It just makes sense, and there’s some stuff that just doesn’t feel good. And that’s just a perfectly fine way of expressing it. But, if you are sensitive, and you can feel your energy, you can feel it bend, and twist, and you can feel Resistance, what you come to find is there’s not a whole lot of literature that even acknowledges that. Some of it does, and fairy tales do, of course. That’s why I love literature and art, because it simply acknowledges that there’s something going on here, that has to do with the human heart. That has to do with the finest qualities, that we know heal, and create rather than destroy.

And of course, whales are poets, they are philosophers, they are singers, they are Guardians, and I really resonate with those dudes, so I think it’s ok. But there comes a time when you just have to lay the facts out, Mine was a journey of discovery, of discernment, and of a reverse autobiography. You get hit with light, with a new way of being, a new way of understanding. Something happens, and you are bigger than you were. And then you’ve got to explain your self to your self, and you’ve got to explain reality to yourself, all over again.

It doesn’t just happen once. Once it starts, it doesn’t stop. It gets bigger. And it gets better.

But it gets bigger.

I’ve talked about this phenomenon as walking a mountain. There are some things I can say at the base of the mountain, and then when I get midway up the mountain and say those words, and they mean something completely different, and I get up to the top, and I say those words, in full awareness and memory, and I realize I was just babbling down there.

But as I walk down the mountain again, and get in midway and say it, that middle meaning makes sense again, and by the end of the mountain, I can inhabit all three. Sure. All three make sense. Which one do I prefer? Which one is the most clear? Which one serves me best? It’s the one at the top of the mountain, where I can say “so be it,” and create a reality, whereas, at the base of the mountain, if I say “so be it,” I may actually be swearing. See how that works?

It’s pretty bizarre, when you get to the real big stuff, and your whole being sort of pops, like a soap bubble and then you look around and go, “Oh! Wait a minute. I’m just in a bigger soap bubble now.” It’s kind of disorienting.

My function has been that of discovering and fostering peace and love. This is primarily because I didn’t see it very much in my reality, but I knew it was there. There’s something underlying all this nonsense, I just know it. And I have known such pure, pure avatars of love in my life, who healed me, because they loved me and accepted me, as I was. There is no finer medicine. And it’s where I have been unable or unwilling to reciprocate or generate it, where I feel I have fallen down, and need to address it somehow, I need to make it right.

Karma for one, please.

How do you break karma?

You love everything any way. You find a way.

And it doesn’t matter if it’s reciprocated. It doesn’t matter if it’s understood. It doesn’t matter if it’s resented. It doesn’t matter if it’s battered, and burned, and its ashes are buried.

That’s just the structure.

The reality remains. Indelibly. A ripple, through all time and all space. Anchor enough of that, on this Earth, in humility and in gratitude, and in strength, and in sovereignty, and see how this place changes.

That’s how it’s done.

There has been, as I have mentioned, an “Armageddon.” I’ve talked about it recently, but I was driving down the road, minding my own business, listening to the radio, and I popped through and WOW. The energy was so intense, so intense, and I returned and said boy oh boy, I’m glad I’m here. This is perfectly fine, I’ll take this. Man oh man, it was really super intense, the last couple of weeks.

And here I was, in daily life, on the steepest learning curve of my life. And then a thought group comes…

Kathy, I ask myself, remember when you went to see Enrique Bouron? And on the last day, you sort of had a thing with him. Do you remember?

I do, and so I’ll tell you about it, because it’s kind of cute.

The last day of a week of instruction in Biological Decoding from Mr. Bouron, I woke up in a very peculiar state. A very peculiar state indeed.

I had just been disassembled, in this truly and utterly bizarre and beautiful and soft and unbelievably healing week of transformation. I was just… I woke up, and I contacted every single person who I loved. Every single one of them. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done. And then I looked at the clock and realised I didn’t have, really, any time, but I stink, so I have to get into the shower.

When I got in that shower, I was immediately in an ancient and quiet place, some sort of automatic place, my hands doing positions, my body being led, and me weeping, crying through the water turning my hair to ropes, beyond relieved that I remember how to do this. I said that at first, through tears of joy. I’m so happy I remember how to do this.

And then I began bringing up everyone. I went through every single person. Every single person. I brought every single person up, and I had a talk with them, because I knew I was completing something.

I was in reverence, and thanks, and release mode. And then I got to the last one, and I burst into flame in the shower. It was the most bizarre thing.

I don’t know how to explain it.

I knew before going in the shower that I was cutting it close and was going to be late, but I was told through the morning “Don’t worry about a thing, you’ll be there before he starts talking.”

So there’s me in the shower, and I’m so late, and then I’m flame, and then I’m dressing and rushing over there and there was no time. I got up there, finally, and he hadn’t taken the stage yet. I was considerably late, and he always started on time.

I took my seat. I felt I had been disrespectful to come in late, and I felt bad about that, but I didn’t fully understand what was going on.

I had the thought, sitting there, before he began, I can’t do any more slides. It’s too hard, it’s too intense, and I need for my grandfather to read me stories from the old country. I need for all of this to come together in some quantum biologic soup that I can understand and can take with me. I was almost crying, thinking, I’m so glad I have my grandfather to sit there and tell me stories from the old country. Please read from the book, please read from the book.

And he began his lecture, and the projector didn’t work. I was told, it was sort of a general announcement, just don’t worry about it, it’ll work just fine after this presentation, just tell stories. And that’s what he did.

And he began to tell stories, pulling everything together. I was gone within about five minutes. I have no conscious memory of what he said. I would pop back in and pop back out, but I was gone, and then he was there in front of me.

He had an Italian accent, and he didn’t look like he looks now, and he was so thrilled. I don’t know exactly where we went, or what we did, but at the end of it, he as the lecturer is still talking, and a part of me is absorbing and staying with the information in the ballroom, but I’m in my meditative space, he’s this ecstatic, jolly Italian man. He crackles back on in my awareness and says, “OK, it’s all done,” and he’s dancing and all happy, acting like the cat that ate the canary, so to speak.

I said, “What’s done? I wanna know how that’s gonna happen, because I understand from Biological Decoding that the whole deal is you gotta have this in your conscious awareness. It’s getting it  that heals you. How am I supposed to be healed, if I haven’t gotten  anything.

And he said, “Well, look!” and he was all excited and dancing, and his arm went p in a flourish to reveal a straight line that went on and on, all the way down, all the way down, forever, a path below and then there were these huge, huge boxes, they’re gift boxes, just dangling there, just dangling there.

He said, “Look, they’re all there. You just have to walk down the road and you’ll have your answers. You’ll have your a-ha’s. You’ll have your healings. It’s all done.” So I said, oh, ok, alright, and then I was in my body again, listening to the lecture.

I had so many bizarre, just truly and utterly other-worldly experiences during that time, it was magic. Truly, truly magic. It was so much fun! It was just amazing.

And, Dr. Todd was there. And now I finally understand what he was in resistance to. I understand why. There was something I hadn’t dealt with yet. There was something walking with me that I didn’t know about.

I spent a lifetime arguing, and throwing etheric punches, and getting punched. This thing that was beside me liked to take on forms and mess with me, play with me, and the whole idea was take away, and hobbling. It was all purposeful. It was to create this work, Deeply Awake. It was an agreement.

And here we are.

Once you can see the agreement, you can release it, right? Isn’t that the idea? That’s kind of the idea.

Enemy mine.

I didn’t talk about it a whole lot, not at all really, very very rarely. Everything in my environment told me it was taboo. It was not to even be acknowledged. It was taboo with my friends with the light, and it was taboo to win, at the dark.

Enemy mine.

It all started when I started to watch documentaries on megalithic structures, in between daily life stuff, and exercise, and all that stuff, recuperating. That research led me to Egypt. I am not a big fan of Egypt. It’s like a wart. I don’t like it. Never have.

But there is beauty there, there is beauty there. But the energy is warped and it’s ugly, and it’s mean, and it’s cold, and it’s not right. It’s just not right. Maybe you feel the same way. Maybe there are other places where you think about it and react with ,”Whoa, I would never, you couldn’t pay me go there,” and everybody else is flocking to it maybe. Ok. Acknowledge it. It’s real. There’s a reason.

There’s a reason. And it’s buried in your memory, which is in a state of disrepair, at one state or another.

I did the megalith thing, and I felt so hugged, and warm, and happy, and then I did the Egypt thing, and I felt all gross and violated, and then the speakers came. Then the truth was revealed. And an Armageddon happened up there. And maybe that was just for me, and that’s fine, but I know I’m a big one, so I think it’s important to talk about resolution.

I always thought about Armageddon as the battle, you know? The life and death struggle. And the apocalypse as the Big Reveal. Here’s the reason you guys were fighting. Here’s the outcome. Here’s the truth.

The revealing of the truth, the burning away of the veil. The big reveal. The Big Show.

It’s pretty stunning, for me, to have this knowledge, and to have it all come together. I am including an interview from Project Camelot of George Kavassilas, because his story is similar to mine in many respects. It was really good to hear who has survived the dropping away of everybody that mattered to them, and the reordering of your reality.

He is someone who has experienced that every time you have a big huge experience, you’ve got to somehow, somehow come back and try to fit in and function with people who are NOT having that experience, and who need, NEED, to shut you down, and shut you up about it, because THAT makes them uncomfortable. One way to handle that discomfort is ridicule, and there are other ways, to handle that, depending on how heavy-handed someone in discomfort decides to be.

And in all this research, I could come to no other conclusion: the enemy is mine, and I am the enemy.

I really had to struggle with this. When I was doing this research, I finally began listening to contactees.

I listened to Alex Collier, and then I listened to Simon Parkes, in a video entitled “33% Reptilian, 33% Insectoid and 33% Human.”

It blew my mind.

I am a blend.

My physical DNA has the genetic imprint of all of those races. That’s sort of the point. That’s what makes humans so incredibly beautiful, and brilliant, resilient, creative, strong, important. And indeed, royalty. It is an honor to hold this DNA. It is an honor.

Think about that, and then take a look out at Trumpland. Come right back. Do you notice a difference? How are you asked to think of yourself, in that closed system of government, medicine, justice, education? It’s a closed, finite system. It is an irrelevant system.

Closed systems die.

Listening to that man speak about his experiences, the choice that he made to see all of it benevolently, the story behind these races, and that’s something I couldn’t do before.

They had hurt me I had been hurt by them, here, and I didn’t know how to defend myself. They’d come visit, or something from them would happen, and I’d be sick. I called it magnetic, and it was an illness, and I’d be sick for a long time. I wasn’t visited by spaceships, I was visited by human beings holding that frequency, that intention, that signature. It smells horrible, and is the emotional equivalent and psychic equivalent of abject, raw terror.

They could induce me, and then feed off of it for weeks, sometimes longer. And they did that, until 2012.

It bothered me when I was visited again by them in 2012. I wasn’t visited by the entity in the flesh. I was visited by his mother, who had come for help. I don’t know if I was as compassionate as I could have been, but I was in misunderstanding of what was going on.

One question was whether she should advise him to go ahead and take the monoatomic gold he wants to eat. I was emphatic. NO. No. No. No. No. Especially for him, no, no, that would make him miserable No.

Soon after, I had a talk with my Self and with my God. I felt so threatened, in the middle of this, so threatened, yet again. Because there are lesser versions of this in all of my reality through all of my experiences. It has been everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.

That is what I have come to break.

That is what I have come to heal.

That is what I have come to love.

And release.

I call it the demiurge, that’s what I call it. And it has been individuated as has the Angelic forces. And so you can see it in the draconians, and you can see it in the Archons, and you can see it in the Thetans, and you can see it in Jinn. It’s the same energy.

And that energy runs through the justice system – let’s call it the legal system – and it burps into your wallet as green cash.

It invites you to believe that “You must earn everything, including a sense of self-worth, Including love. Including acceptance.

It must be earned.”

Well, that’s just a construct.

No, it doesn’t, you dork.

Well-being is my birthright. Joy is my birthright. Fun, play, excitement, creativity, expression, those are my birthrights. Look at what my body can do. I can create human life. And you dare tell me that I’m not free?

You’re dumb. And you’re small, and you’re petty. You’re not very bright, you know.”

Enemy mine.

I have that inside of me. I would see it, when I would watch a dark film, or when someone is doing something dark to another person on film, there would be this BOOM, this reverberation in my body, and sometimes I could feel it intensely. Sometimes it surprised me with its intensity.

And it’s funny, I think I have been able to notice these things because, for me, there hasn’t been a time speed-up. I’ve been really happy lately, because everything has slowed the fuck down.

I can understand things finally. Because there was always this buzzing, information zooming, but the last year or so, everything has slowed down so very much. And in the moment, I can see what’s going on, and respond in a way that’s in accord with what I really know to be true. Not in fear, but in humor. That took things slowing down, not speeding up.

I like it, because I can really think things through.

I took all this super, super personally. It was right in my face all the time. Maybe it’s being a woman, maybe it’s just being dialed the way I’m dialed, so maybe it would be helpful to just tell you my philosophy of life.

I’m gonna do what I’m gonna do, what I need to do, and there are certain things that you can argue about until you’re blue in the face, but I’m still going to do them. You can be upset about it, I don’t care. That’s fine Be upset. Enjoy that. But I still need to do this. And you having a problem with me completing my mission tells me more about you than me. So, I don’t care, have a problem with it.

That’s a pretty easy place to be. I don’t know how compassionate it is, but that’s sort of been my way, and it means that everybody else has the same freedom, and that’s really, really hard to give. But, that’s my philosophy.

You hang out with people, and you let them show you what they believe and who they think they are. Within that construct, there are certain things that they’re not going to be able to do, and certain things that they’re going to want to do, and it’s up to them. Not me. And if I want to join in that, I can. And a lot of it’s really fun. But, you know, everybody has the right to choose their own way.

In relationship, it means I watch. I just observe. I let people be. I wasn’t like that with my son, a whole lot, at first. It was the programming. I’ve stopped the clamp-down, but that’s how I am with everybody, just, whatever. And I guess it might appear uncaring, but there’s a reason for it.

I know of having soul urges, and experiences that can never be explained, because they would never be understood, so why bother? I know that everyone walks around in prisons, because they don’t talk about their experiences, and they don’t even have words for their emotions.

I was so shut down in 1985, when I started psych nursing, that I had to use an affect chart with faces to realize that there were a lot of expressions of emotionality.

I had just been pooped out of a pretty rigid structured system, and I had a certain amount of affective range, but I didn’t have words for any of it, and I hadn’t had mirrors, or I hadn’t been paying attention. So, the repetitive sort of inculcation began to break in nursing school, and once I got out of nursing school I realized I really needed to define – not define myself, that was way premature, but I just needed to figure myself out. I just needed to listen to myself.

I could finally sit down and listen, and I had some freedom, so that’s what I did. I started very multi-dimensional, parallel reality-friendly therapist, who resonated with Lazaris, and that was six years of putting myself together, and then I met The Teachers, who were an insert. I didn’t meet them on their spaceship, though they once took me there in session. I didn’t have contacts and visitations. I had to pay money.

But that’s consistent with my role.

It’s been to walk hand in hand with monsters, and what people thought were monsters, often times, as a psych nurse. I worked with people who went on to murder, and burn things down, and rape, and create mayhem.

I was always right smack dab in the mayhem, as a nurse. I liked the mayhem. I liked the seedy parts of town, and the parts that were thought to be rough, and run-down. I liked that the best. I was so uncomfortable visiting in expensive mansions, and being around that kind of folk. That’s just not me. “Everybody’s pretending here. Let’s get down to what’s real.”

It’s just one example of this weird blend I had going the whole time, and it was so hard to reconcile What is a being of love and light, who can totally hear god through a cloverleaf doing in a seedy bar? What the what?

Enemy mine.

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

Love your enemy.

Enemy mine.

With every reveal, through these videotapes I’ve been watching, through my studies, through my research, research I wouldn’t be able to do any other way, so I am so grateful for YouTube. What a miracle. What a wonderful thing! This is the way to cement it. This information is available in our Merkahbic fields now, we can access all of this now, but it’s so satisfying to hear a stranger talk about something that sets things in motion, like a key finally turned in an engine.

A’Shayana Deane, I listened to her, and it took about five and a half hours to put Humpty Dumpty back together again, for the veil to completely burn off, and for me to see, finally see, just what I’ve been up against.

What strikes me the most is the manipulation of the solar system. And I looked at that, and I saw all the movements, and the processions, and the complexity, and the compulsivity, the compulsivity. And the arrogance.

Taking something that is obviously divine, and good for you, and saying, “I can do better. And, I don’t care who I hurt. In fact, it’s kind of fun. I like it.”

That is the mind of a tweaker, and a sociopath. That is what we are up against. Raw stupidity and arrogance.

Enemy mine.

It’s diabolical. And it’s super-mechanical. And it’s dead.

These tweakers don’t know how to design open systems because they don’t have the DNA to consider it possible. They’re not smart enough, simply put. But, oh my god, they’re tweakers!

And I have seen that in my life, and in my work, and I’ve described. There’s even an essay that talks about it, “Obsessive-Compulsive.” I resonate with Antares, and one of the fundamentals of this energy is to learn balance, and abstain from obsession. It’s been on my radar for a while, and once again, another stream comes in to confirm that which is coming into clearer and clearer focus.

This is one of my theses, that there is a mindset that creates a field of experience that’s closed, that’s karmic, and the energy is tarry and sticky and infective.

I’ve been describing it.

I’ve been living it.

I’ve been writing and speaking, and thinking the words, but it’s only today that I feel power, and peace, and safety.

There’s a lot about the plan, and what’s occurring that I am in agreement and in accord with, and it’s counter what we have been led to believe or that we understand, but it is coherent and consistent with everything else I have learned in my lifetime of research. I really had to struggle with that, especially overnight, I asked for some help.

The truth is, had I had this information any sooner, I would have left. I would have exited. I wouldn’t have been able to maintain enthusiasm. I barely did, with a complete cloak around my head, I barely survived. Had I known what I know now, that would have been that.

So, what The Teachers told me, way back when, is really true. I wanted to know where I was from, in order to understand what it was all about, and they said they wouldn’t reveal, and that’s my policy, too, with my clients. That’s the most profound discussion you’ll ever have with your soul, and it’s not for me to tell you. You’ve got to ask a few questions. And you might be put on a scavenger hunt or two. It may be a weird experience, or it might be handed to you on a note, who knows, but I’m not the one to hand you that note.

They told me, if I knew, I wouldn’t stay. And now I understand why.

That was the God’s honest truth, it turns out. And to hold this awareness has led to such profound peace. It’s indelible.

All that’s I’ve been saying, that there’s nothing to worry about, and that everybody loves you, and everything’s cool, all the messages from the rapture of spiritual awakening and all that? That’s singing from my bones, and my blood, and my nervous system today.

So, where is this enemy of mine?

Still here.

Still here. Within me.

It took A’Shayana saying a joke, to break the fear, for me. The way that she talks about the dracs, and the reptilians, and all that stuff, all the greys, she’s had her tussles, ok? She’s been hurt, just like we all have. But you know how she responds? “Yeah, well, it takes a village.”

You gotta get to the place where you love. And the only thing that energy requires of you is hate. Hate and fear. It’s the only thing that makes sense, when you’re looking right at it. Hate and fear.

That’s all it knows.

Well, that and tweaking. Unbelievable.

So, I’m sitting on my bed this morning and thinking, no wonder I’ve had problems with this reflectivity, I am that which I hate. I contain that which I abhor. I am genetically, biologically part of my enemy.

But, you know what?

Somehow, somehow, I can see bigger, than my enemy. I can do things my enemy can’t. I can love them. And, they don’t seem capable of it, but, I don’t care. I love them.

Enemy mine.

That’s what shadow work is, you know. You get beat up by the shadow, or you beat up somebody else, and you feel the shadow overtake you, if you do your shadow work right, it blossoms into radiant, brilliant diamond light, and love. That’s the idea. Always. That’s the purpose.

So the question becomes, how much conflict do you need to get to that love? Do you really need conflict, to feel forgiveness and release? How important is it to you, how necessary a device?

Yeah, make-up sex is kind of fun, but I’ve never had it. I think it’s kind of dumb. It’s disordered thinking. Coming together after misunderstandings, that’s different, but I’ve witnessed couples, myself included, get into cycles where their anger and pain become their passion, because they’ve lost their love. And then they don’t understand why they’re in this cyclone of despair all the time, but it like, “well, you’re addicted to something that’s not very healthy.”  I think that’s what a lot of us do. We get hooked on the conflict because we’re still trying to figure out what love is. Because we are trying to get it, get it, from someone else. And it’s just disordered thinking, that’s all. It’s ok, it’s really ok.

When the lights come on, then you have to make a decision. You can get your juice from anger and slight, and pain and disappointment, or you can lift anchor. And, you find, the wind takes you, and the sea supports you, and you’re no longer alone.

It’s very odd.

So, I’m a poet, and a philosopher, and not necessarily one of those who had experiences in crafts and in other physicalized realities. My way seems to blended earth life and cosmic life, and got my understandings in perhaps unconventional ways, more shamanic or visionary, or lalalalala.

But I did it all in amnesia, and finally, the big reveal came. Boop. We’re up against tweakers? Oh Fuck. They’re impaired. They’re impaired, they’re dangerous but they’re not healthy individuals, and it’s not a healthy consciousness. It’s going to do unhealthy things.

OK.

Well, it isn’t a conundrum. It isn’t a puzzle, it isn’t a problem. It’s the task at hand. Figuring out exactly what, who, or if, there is an enemy.

It really took realizing that by virtue of being human, I am, I have internalized, through my genetic code, this whole set up. And because this darkness has individuated and tapped me on the shoulder and messed with me, it became a priority, for me, to figure out exactly what it was.

So, to end, I’ll tell you of my big Aha!, because it’s been really hard for me to know, am I good, or am I bad? I freaking resonate with the dark. I understand the dark. I don’t mind it. I’m kind of immune. It doesn’t seem to stain me, but instead invigorates me, and it makes me appear dark, and corrupted, to some.

Enemy mine.

I am that which I fear.

I am my own destroyer.

I am paradox.

I am a singularity.

And I am the creative essence.

I know, and am, with, that thing, that if you’ve been touched by it, if you’ve run after it and touched it, you know what I’m talking about. The Isness. The All. God. Creator. Source. The Unified Field. Call it what you will. It doesn’t mind.

I resonate with the dark, because I created the dark, because I like a good story. And because, with free will the way it is, well there was a part of me that wanted to run free, and defy. And say:

You. Can’t. Make. Me.

Interesting.

Will is a quantum force. Love is a quantum force.

My enemy likes to play with will, and ignore the solvent that is love.

And I am my enemy.

And I am at peace, with what was, what is, and what is to come.

I love my enemy.

I love my Self.

And I love you.

I declare this the day when all misunderstandings fall, all misdeeds are seen as our own, seen for the silliness they are, and dismissed, with a chortle.

I know my enemy, and I know why I can go dark. I know why it’s bothered me when I have gone dark.

But there is no enemy. It’s just a game. And the light always wins. Always. Without exception. That’s the only rule. This has been a wonderful, wonderful game. Big to little, little to big.

Love your enemy.

Enemy mine.

SEYLAH.

 

 

Deeply Awake: What Happens When Resistance Becomes Self-Aware? By Kathy Vik 5-5-18

 

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A compelling, intense, deep and comprehensive report on further integration in the ascension process, discussing the link up of cosmic and Gaian realities.

Issues of identity as they relate to the ascension process are discussed with gentleness and a unique point of view. A coherent discussion of ancient history, DNA activation, energetic management, shamanism and “mundane” daily life.

Anomalies abound. There is very little on this tape that is synched up, most of it is on a time delay, and the delays and synch are as meaningful as the words. I am beginning to think it is a form of communication, and I think it is beautiful and clever of “them.” At 43:14, my much-beloved wisp appears!

 

Deeply Awake — Thoughts Before An Intentional Shift In Physical Reality By Kathy Vik 3-7-18

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An honest, fun and multidimensional talk on what is at hand for me.

In the physical, I am getting a hip replacement tomorrow, so this stands as my final thoughts before going through an event that has meanings not only in the day-to-day, but spiritually and soulically.

I hope you enjoy this perspective. I do talk about an event that occurred in the spring of 2016, an activation which my team refers to as “the Merkabah is set.” They haven’t elaborated on that, though I have been receiving more and more information about that event.

This mystical event is discussed because it is, for some reason, front and center these days, and so I am including it in my thoughts, my meditations on health, healing, illness, wellness, spiritual evolution and intentional shifting of physical reality.

 

 

 

 

 

As referenced, a really fun and coherently presented hit of highly esoteric and TOTALLY DO-ABLE almost-magical-but-based-in-high-physics stuff, the glittery  wonderful Ms. Alison Coe:

 

Deeply Awake — Meditations on Shifting To A New Natal Chart By Kathy Vik 2-24-18

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A friendly, helpful and easy to understand video simply reviewing moving from one natal chart to another, but also what that means with daily life, and with such things as identity and a sense of the future

 

 

 

 

 

 

As referenced, here is my natal chart from birth in 1961

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And my natal chart from the event I experienced April, 2012

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Deeply Awake — Welcoming The Golden Ones 12-23-13 By Kathy Vik

 

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Deeply Awake — Welcoming The Golden Ones 12-23-13 By Kathy Vik

I was raised in a devoutly traditional Norwegian family, and so we celebrated on Christmas Eve. My mom and dad each have only sibling, as do I, and there was strife in their homes, let’s be honest, and so, we had a very very small family.

I married into a bigger family, not at all fussy, mixed European lineage, lots of color and benign eccentricity, in my opinion. Just blatantly, benignly eccentric. I couldn’t have had it any other way, really.

They celebrate on Christmas Day, which I was brought up to believe was just not as right, as doing it on Christmas Day, but have long since gotten over that prejudice. What silliness! In our lives, it just means that Sam gets to celebrate two Christmases.

Since Jerry and I split up, Sam gets two of a lot of things, birthdays, even Halloweens sometimes. His dad is a very right-wing Republican, I am undeclared Democratic socialist. Again with the contrasts. Sam set his life up very interestingly.

It’s all fascinating sometimes, just to take a step back and look at the weave. It was just stuff that happened, but then looking back on it you can see patterns, miraculous encounters, bizarre synchronicity, amazing timing, and you just have to know, don’t you, that there was some sort of weird, crazy, loving thing behind it, right?

And that thing, karma, that used to push and pull you and I, before we noticed it, took hold of it, had long chats with it, and then told it, finally, to leave, and then, at least for me, a number of sparkly, healing events occur, and at the end of it, I don’t know about you, but for me, I just feel, in my best moments, deliberate. I mean that to say volumes, you know. I know I am deliberate, when feeling clear and true, running as I am at the moment.

And yet, I have been at odds with myself, even now, even after all that has happened, the worst bout of it just last evening. I felt that old familiar blankness, no voices, no reassurance, and I knew I was in yet another void. Sam was so sweet to me, without my asking, treating me like a kid who’s under the weather. Best to just lie down and go away, when I feel like that, focus on love, and go to sleep.

People who elect to tell you about their pain, those people are few and far between, and those who are perfectly honest and candid about their souls’ troubles, riddles, puzzles, koans, in an uncloaked manner, fewer still.

And of them, there are but a few who can tell you that they got through it, and it’s over for them, and by extension, how you might be able to get through it, with viable, freeing, liberating answers, that requires one’s own self-examination, their own discernment to kick in?

A discernment and inner sovereignty that then requires giving the same freedom to others, encouraging individuality, with all being in such love, within self, and each other, that doing harm, telling lies, withholding good, these would begin to create pain within, not in resonance with the truth of it, that we are here because of love, for love, to share it freely and to expect only this from others. Peace on earth, I think it’s called.

And they have so much feeling of goodwill and trust, because it is earned, because you cannot find anything you cannot love, strife ends, and the painful behavior from others that used to plague you just begins to fade into an at times bleak, at times heartbreakingly pure and soulful song of love, well then, there aren’t many of those, I can tell you.

It’s still all spaceships and government nonsense, the haves against the have-nots, Monsanto and climate change and all the rest. For me, it translates into not having enough money to do things I imagine would be more pleasurable than what I am currently doing, in essence, and not being able to give Sam the finer things in life, like I had it, growing up.

Last night was the worst of it. I saw and felt it so clearly, this longing I have to just write, to have a life which does not demand the crude things, the hard and difficult things, things I have grown fond of, and weary of, the things of the flesh, of people lost in their own suffering, often lashing out like wounded animals. That’s the life I am sick of. Nursing. I really, really am.

And so all on the way home, and into last night, feeling this cleave. I have read my horoscope. I was a born philosopher and writer. It is just so clear. There is a paragraph or two about not being balanced in the physical, and one line about nursing. And yet, this is how my life turned out! What a hoot! I mean, it’s quite a setup, don’t you think?

I mean, honestly, in my heart, I retired from nursing almost two years ago. On January 25, 2012, I had an event which changed me. I had a choice to make that day, and I chose the unthinkable.

I was getting hauled in at work for something which was totally blown out of proportion, and all I could think was, well, here we go again. Once again getting booted out of someplace because I don’t fit in. Here we go again.

Don’t get me wrong, I am dearly loved by most of the people I hang out with, or at least loosely tolerated, and have had enormously successful job performance, but as things got clearer, in the late 2000’s I found it harder and harder to modulate myself, and often was unhappy.

I was sort of a pain in the ass, but there again, written by the stars, my horoscope soothed me by saying I have an aspect which is very challenging, sort of a catalyst for changing others. So it had always been there, the mal-resonance factor, but it got real bad, culminating in once again knowing people are gathering, there in an office on a cold January morning, trying to figure out how to make things hard, figuring out my penance for not fitting in, not pleasing, being challenging. It was finally realizing this that made things different for me.

And so I stood in the hallway, knowing that I was going to have to go in there and defend myself for half an hour, to people who I have no defense for, and they will probably try to punish me in the meantime, so, I got real still, and I realized I was needing help. I did as my teacher Norma said.

I breathed in green light. I could feel it go into my heart, and into my bloodstream, and into my lungs, and out into the air. It took me by surprise how instant and powerful it was. Then, the hall was green, I could feel that whole slice of highrise turn green, everyone in it, and then, I realized that everyone in the meeting room was green too.

I felt my awareness enter the room, and I could see each of their bodies green, abstracted, and they were pumping with green hearts, this green light. I realized I wanted to no part in this next part.

The part where I admit I am an asshole and did something grievous, and then they get to make things hard for me. Why do that? I thought to myself.

The woman in charge just plain and simple was beginning to hate me, and it was so bizarre. The whole thing, once it got going, it was super wobbly super fast. It was sort of the big boom, and I had been walking through fainter hits of it, before coming up to this big one. Yes, I think that’s it.

This was mainly self-perpetuated, you know. I know that now. I can see it even now at work. I don’t have the willingness to do small talk for eight hours. I can manage two. I have very good starts of shifts, and then, people just stay there bobbing on the surface, talking about their past problems, all their problems, all the time, either that, or their possessions, or the things they are doing to achieve really awesome goals, totally awesome, don’t get me wrong, but no one talks about why. And there had been so few people to take any comfort at all in alternative explanations, sparkly adventures, or anything that didn’t involve darkness.

And I tire of that, and so I turn inward, listening to stuff on the internet or reading, but off I go. It doesn’t mean I don’t like them, I just lose interest.

So, last year at this time, and on into the spring, I worked at a long-term hospital contract, and there I was able to do the really fine interpersonal work. I woke up socially, I think. And I became engaged at a heart level with people, without needing anything back from them, not depth, not weird interests, not spirituality. I had set myself apart, my whole career, without even knowing it, I see now. I see that now.

And now, I do not need anyone to love me, and I am filled with such exquisite bliss when I am loved, and I find that happens a whole lot more these days, and somehow this has all blossomed into peace.

And now I feel as if I am reentering the world. I am unafraid of rejection now, and do not shy away from talking with people, asking them questions, engaging in their happinesses. I see people as benign now, and usually as achingly beautiful. I had been so needy, I think, so hungry to connect, so heartbroken when people turned from me.

But I see now that this was just a modulation in the frequency, something I became aware of so that it could addressed. It begins and ends with realizing some things about myself, some fundamental things which I received in the dream state, over the solstice. I found it beautiful, so benevolent, in the end, that I worked the 21st and the 22nd.

I had a meditation on Friday, the 21st, my 2-11 day, my day of wonder, and in it I said that I needed to attend kirtan that night, rather than working. I commanded to be canceled for work so that I could attend kirtan.

I felt it appropriate to anchor this light there, among friends, among old souls, in full, or at least better, recognition of our true identities, soul to soul there. And then I felt, I just knew, that I would be canceled. I just felt so powerful, like a magician.

At 5pm, the agency called me. Confirmed for twelve at the geriatric psych unit. I had to got to work.

I drove to work angry, yelling a lot, upset that I could have gotten it so wrong, but worse, that I had called for it, cancellation and kirtan, and it had felt, to me, like it was mine. I had KNOWN I’d be canceled. And here I was, driving in a snowstorm, to work.

I can see now that this would have been nice, very nice, really, to have attended kirtan, but it was needed that I have the sort of sleep that I got, I needed to be up there for dawn, to be outside through the night, star gazing and contemplating.

It was an easy couple of nights, pleasant all around, and I had no social awkwardness, not a touch of it. Everyone, I can feel when I work, these last three shifts, everyone sort of eases, and people are gentle toward each other, and nice to each other. That happens anymore when we have a family dinner. A sort of peace falls into us, and they are magical, those times, but only with family, up until now.

Now I can see it spreading to work, consistent and gentle, not overwhelming, just peaceful, and I know I am a generator, so I sit there and generate. I am finally able to do what my teachers once told me was the goal, one of them. Can you, they asked, in any room, can you be the one who holds an open heart? Can you hold that for everyone?

And I can see now that this is what is happening.

I want to tell you of my dreams, because they soothe me, thinking on them now, and puzzled and excited me, thinking on them through those nights at work. I want to share them with you. You may see my last entry, “Duality’s Illumination,” for the dream I had on 12-19/20.

“12-21
First wake up – I understood the light body, the Merkahbic DNA field I always imagine is outside of me is actually my DNA. I saw my cells, understood I am made of this DNA, and it is in my physical body, all the same, in my toenails and in my hair. The Merkahbah is my DNA, and this body is constructed of DNA.
2nd wake-up – now, understood that my soul is my higher self. It’s what kept me from shattering when I was a kid. It’s what kept me going all this time. And it’s what creates my circumstance, my choices and my situation. Like last night, when I am in opposition with or hold resentment for an activity [having to work] I am in opposition with my soul. Arguing with the thing that loves me, makes me, loves me. I layed flat arms out and thanked, loved, my soul and heated up instantly. The heat is me. It’s the meld. [Happy face.] I am my soul, my soul is me. It is melding my DNA, my field, my experience, it is me, and I it. My soul is me, I am my soul. My body is my soul, and my soul is my body.
When new circumstances and opportunities enter my life, that too is my soul, offering me doors I can walk through. I can TRUST these new doors. I don’t have to be in fear or opposition to them, and I shouldn’t think that refusing them will hurt me, but when I turn from a new opportunity (like that traveling job), I am saying no to something my soul has lined up. If what stops me is fear or “fatigue,” I am slowing things down, and missing opportunities to express the new me. They are NOT my good, they are adventures. Feel through them, scan them, and I’ll know, and can trust knowing, if they are loving, pleasant, feel through them first and you can trust if they feel good. It’s like hating or resenting something in my life. That’s me hating and resenting my soul. It’s CHLIDISH. A house divided.
Third dream – I lived in a house like dad’s, with many steps, and I had been gone a really long time. It was Halloween time. It was my house, but I was moving in, and I guess there were repair people, people responsible, former owners, but I got home after a long time, felt like I was a brand new owner, and the house had been left wide open, two glass doors, both propped open, an outer and an inner door.

And I saw, I remembered when I saw it, I had left a big white candle burning, a fat white pillar candle. It was still burning. There was a Halloween decoration over the front door, black wire covered with black fuzzy shiny stuff saying “Happy Halloween, Bitches,” I guess meant to be hip or cool, something the former owner had up. I was going to take it down and throw it away.
It was a huge house. 2 entrances. One, that I arrived in, was in the below, under, and connected to many steps, and also connected to the outside world. I’d come from a very busy time in a mall, I think, and had had touching relationships.
Then, the front door, that had been left wide open, this is the part I saw so clearly, it was reached by me differently. It was lighter, more open, made of glass, and I could see out into the wilderness and neighbor houses from there.
Sam was around, but not, too,and I felt very loved, like a star, and I know I had been difficult and erratic and some people I needed to come in and fix or help my house and now the former caretakers were sort of “hands off” and relieved I was different and I knew I wouldn’t be seeing much of them now, but I was communicating with them in my mind.
I decided because it was such a fine house that I would treat it with care.
I, I am missing the part with others, the ones who love me so. They weren’t there in the house, it was me alone, and I was closing the house, or planning to, thinking it is fine and right to close the doors so that just not anybody could come in. But the front part of the house was all glass and even if the doors were closed, I’d never be unaware or disconnected from anyone, with the outside, ever again.”

So, I think it is good that I worked those two nights, compelled to self-care in its extreme, when working two twelves back to back, and they were easy shifts, with colleagues I had known before and usually enjoyed, and I felt no slights. There was just one little jot of discomfort, from a formerly awful nurse, now so gentle, and only once in twelve hours did she misbehave and project things that weren’t nice, but I ignored it, and all was well.

And yet, I had two episodes of sadness, crying, last night, about little things, that telescoped into huge things that were crushing my tender heart, wanting, in the end, for a way to ease the road for Sam, not half-assing things anymore financially, safe and sound, finally.

I know it is a self-perpetuating thing, that if I applied myself I could be able to give him the moon, and I have now gotten so far as a callback, but then, the juice stops, and no more nibbles.

I have made calls, put in applications, lots of things, and it is truly odd, one of the oddest parts on this journey, how my mojo has dried up and I can’t get people to return my calls. Bizarre. Just bizarre. That’s the part I haven’t really talked about, how I just can’t seem to get my foot in the door anywhere. For all this time, since my inner retirement, actually, my inner, psychic retirement.

Because that was the outcome to that fateful day, nearly two years ago, that cold, bleak January morning, going in for the guillotine.

I sort of came back into my body after that green experience, and I felt nothing but love for those little ones, heads together, conspiring and calling it compassion. They had me come into the room, presented me with a very official document, and told me that my hours had changed, come down from corporate, and they happened to be exactly opposite the hours I was able to give the company.

Continuing would have meant never seeing my son, and they knew it, and sat there with a grin and offered it to me like I deserved it, like it wasn’t a very loud “GET OUT OF OUR COMPANY!”, and, I’d also have to sign some sort of form admitting that I was a piece of shit, basically.

So I smiled, and I leaned back in my chair. I asked them if they were aware that this seemingly arbitrary change in hours would be something they knew I could not do. They said yes, and hid behind the magic word “corporate’ again.

I said, well, we’re done then. Thank you, but let’s be honest. You are telling me to leave. I hereby retire. Knew it out in the hall. Knew I was done. And done with this sort of nonsense. They agreed to refrain from bad-mouthing when I went job hunting, and handed me some checks.

I had one friend, Linda, who urged me to go on unemployment, to take time off, maybe to write, if I wanted to.

And so I did just that. I retired, I got into the blogs, and I had an exponential amount of growth occur. I began writing in March of 2012, and am now writing the third, or fourth, one, depending on how you look at it. Of course, as it is in America, even though I was layed off, technically,

I did not get unemployment benefits. They were denied, and I didn’t see the point in wrestling with the dragon. Not anymore. I was on to other things. I lived on prayers, generosity, and miracles, for four months, exploring, writing, waking up. By March, I’d written my first essay, the name Deeply Awake still unformed in my mind.

I have been unable to give Sam the things I believe would enhance our lives, and I am sad about that, but, looking at how he set things up, and what he has told me about his most recent past life, I think it is true, what I am sometimes told about my current situation, that some of this is not even mine. I am helping out. I am in a set up for the benefit of others, holding compassion, hopefully, helping with the healing.

And so my fortunes are tied to others. I am out of karma, but I am not in this by myself. There are others who need help, in a soul, set-up sort of way, and they help me, too.

Sometimes, even still, I long for the physical circumstances to be different. This is a total mismatch, I hollered, on the way home from one of those shifts. Just seeing the absurdity of it all, the mind-bending sacrifice, the gut-wrenching act of love my being a nurse has been. I have been marking time, and I did it in a way that could only benefit me and those around me. Practicing compassion, twelve hours a night, sometimes 60 hours a week, in the old days, for nearly 30 years.

And so, I can spin it any way I see fit. Try as hard as I could, last night, I just couldn’t spin it in my favor. I was overwhelmed with fatigue, with longing, for something better. I deserve better, I say, sometimes. But I know, in my clearer moments, that this is all about timing, and nothing more, and to just chill and relax and not get to worked up, but gee, sometimes, it gets me.

I will tell you that after this is written, published, and then re-read, by me, I feel something is going to click. Even after all the sparkly stuff, that I wrote, often times, to you about, in disbelief and wonder, even now, I am not owning this. Writing and then reading it helps make it real for me. And this is a big one, I think. Because I am talking about a meld, a new way to live.

And this is the golden one, when soul and body are finally greeted as one in the same, when all is seen as love, soul expressions, everyone doing their best, even when their best is just god awful, this is the golden one, the soul lighting up a biology that is awash in a vibrant, colorful, beautiful and compelling electro-magnetic chemical hypnotizing technicolor reality. Bathed in and emanating from divine physics, each of us, doesn’t matter what sort of babble is coming out of the mouth, the words and the one speaking them are soul expression, and must be treated with respect.

This is a golden age, and when people begin to see how much they can and should and do value their own souls. It then becomes impossible to be anything but funny, kind, light-hearted, outgoing, perhaps, thinking about the others’ comfort, showing it, and wanting just to blend, cooperatively singing our beautifully individual songs, harmonizing, laughing, loving.

This is possible, I think. And it comes not from others finally getting their shit together, the ever-present “them” finally behaving, doing, better. No. It comes from understanding that the one you are observing, whether acting unjustly or justly, that one, too, is a soul, a timeless, eternal, immortal soul, as you are, focusing on something and having overwhelming thoughts and feelings about all of it.

So often, this Christmas, I have heard Christmas songs about this future time when Christ returns to Earth, or Peace, or what have you. This Golden time when everybody is nice to everyone else. Imagine living in peace and harmony! Imagine a world without war!

And this year, this is the year that I have felt a divine, cosmic, funny-as-hell wink, when those songs come on. This is the Christmas. This is the return of the golden one, the immortal soul each of us has some awareness of, some only on their deathbeds, some every morning, every night, and every moment in between. I’m not there yet, but I am getting there.

And to know this is possible, this is real, this is the best thing of all.

The Christian faith hijacked something. It’s weird, that Jesus’ words are actually in red in some Bibles (my favorite kind, I like to get tot he good stuff…) but he said, repeatedly, what I can do, you can do, this and more. Over and over, did he not? And yet there is all this worship around him, bending our light through him, instead of running straight up and down and reaching out from our hearts as a family. That’s the part that got hijacked. If I can do it, you can.

How would you like to see a painting of Jesus, smiling, giving you the thumbs up and a winking, grinning broadly, and a caption that reads, “If I can do it, so can you.” But Christianity is not much of a road map, basically, “Surrender your critical thinking and just trust me on this one.”

But each religion has a portal, and much to teach. I’m in love with all of them, but see, if you just gloss over something like that, what he said about the availability of his abilities, then a disservice is done to everyone.

Since I was a girl I thought that it was possible, that there could be a way to embody that sort of beyondness. And thinking these thoughts was and still is considered quite devious and depraved by some, but I think it only makes sense to assume that Jesus was past lying or exaggerating to make a point. Sure, he was a great storyteller, but he was dead serious about some stuff, and none more than, “Hey, you know, you’re going to blow me out of the water,” which, I am paraphrasing, but he said that too.

The return of the golden one, and this return of Christmas is blessed. This is the first year I have really felt happy, solid, sure. Some measure their happiness with dollar signs, and those who do make sure they have more than others, and this Christmas,

I am once again living like a pauper, but feel it is my last year to suffer for my art. I know that the month I wrote Patrick I was the happiest and the clearest I have ever been. I know where I am headed. That I don’t quite know how I am going to get there, well, isn’t that the fun part?

Like when I tell Sam of how his dad and I met and happened to fall in love, how he was born, that silent, odd night, and many other moments, too, when things got clear, and changed, in a moment, in a wink of an eye. Our circumstances, the events in our lives, the before/after moments, all orchestrated, all representing astonishing synchronicity and love.

So I am at peace, I have enough, and it is all well with my soul. The angst and, I guess it could be called self-pity, has left me, the sadness over this odd cleave in my life, always the dual life, the compartmentalization. That is maybe the worst of it, feeling fragmented, not cohesive. And I write to you because I know you may have the same thing going on, not feeling entirely genuine, or congruent, yet.

I write this to solve my own puzzles, and to sing great songs of joy, but also to reach out and to demonstrate that you are not alone, because if one thing is true above all others, I am just like everyone else. I am no different. And if you are reading along, we are one. We are family. Whether I ever meet you or not, we are one, we are family, and it can be no other way.

We have scaled great mountains here today, and not everyone is up for the task. That’s how I look at it anymore. As my confidence and esteem has risen, I understand that these pursuits, though valid, are not as popular today as they will be in a while. How long is dependent on how clear and bright you and I are. Our light is helping. Our love is healing. Our presence was foretold. We have returned. The Golden Ones.

Deeply Awake — My Better Self 12-11-13 By Kathy Vik

 

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Deeply Awake — My Better Self 12-11-13 By Kathy Vik

This is a letter of goody-bye and of hello. It is the letter I have been thinking of, feeling it coming together, pre-verbal, I guess, pieces and parts coming to me, niggling me, reminding me of its imminent arrival. Like so much in my reality, its presence has always been known.

Rarely do I keep with a title if I am urged to title a piece prior to writing it. But today, I think it is a pretty fair bet that the title that came to me, “My Better Self,” is indeed the one I will stick with.

I will say that I am in stone cold love with the entity known as Kryon. We had a bumpy start, and he made cry right off the bat.

I remember reading an essay, really not all that long ago, to be honest, that Kryon channeled, about the next bit of activity. In it, he laid it out, that ascension, this ascension, is a gradual and slow thing, and that there will be another 18 years of work.

In my fatigue and despair, I became completely overwhelmed, thinking about another 18 years of work.

Later, when more was revealed to me, I had a meditation in which Kryon came to me, this big billowing cloud of love, and he winked at me, cheeky little devil, when I realized that the next 18 years, although perhaps complicated, will not be like anything I have ever experienced. Sort of a pat and a tickle, he gave me that day. He has been my loved one ever since.

But I wept deeply, in a way I had not yet experienced sadness. I felt disappointment, and that stony resolve of mine. Knowing that I was on the hook for it all, and just being overwhelmed with the enormity of what was in front of me, and what had come before, leading me to this day, laying there on my bed, fully consumed with the exquisite pain I had known the first 50 some years of my life, unconvinced, and I remained unconvinced until last night, that it would ever end.

Now, I say this as a way to say bye bye, actually, for, although I can obviously fully access the depths, I think that their presence has been instructive, helpful, sainted, actually, and their time is now complete, you see.

I wept because I was sealed, still, within doubt and fear. I questioned if I had permission, really. I do not, cannot hold doubt, honestly I can’t, for the thing that I feel in some people’s presence. It is a true north of sorts. I think this is the guru syndrome down at the bones.

When one falls in love with an entity, like I have so many many times, with mere humans in my midst, you see, I am not talking about sexual love. Here. I am boggled at the thoughts and sensations I feel when I consider ever being able to blend these two realities, this great love of spirit, and a sexual union. What a blessing that will be! But, no, for me, always, sexual attraction is a weak echo of this greater love I know.

It is the love I have always felt when I have contemplated Jesus, even as a girl. It is the love I feel for Shiva, this love moving me to tears of joy and bliss within moments of just thinking on him. It is the love I have from trees, for trees, with trees, some of my best friends.

It is this love that I had for my mentor, my former boss, Marge. I feel it for my friends Diane and Linda. I felt it for The Teachers. I dwelt in that love for two years with The Teachers. I am blessed among men for that privilege, that esteem, that trust, that honor, that love.

And it is this purity that I can now see shining through my father, my mother, my sister, my grandparents, and I can see now, that with the teachings of Seth, the help of Grandma Cannon, and the daily blessings I now enjoy from the internet, I can see how I have been slowly working on finding a way to feel this love for everyone, for every situation, for every fear and every doubt.

This love, this respect and awe and joy and obvious family quality, this is God, my God. It might not be anyone else’s interpretation, but it’s mine.

You see, this love, this I need to say about it. It feels so good, because it is a recognition my body has. A gong within me, the physical body part of me. It senses, around these people, and within events of profound purity, me. It feels that which is in me, I recognize that which is like that in me. I am resonating with myself.

It has broken all statistical expectations, and has become nothing short of miraculously routine, that when I am working on a koan, Kryon is the one who does not deliver, but who confirms my new breaking apart of the old understandings, and Kryon often serves as my midwife, birthing the new realizations.

He, like The Teachers before him, is able to language that which I had forgotten, but which had been bubbling in my fields, coming together, and then, bam, it arrives. And the blending is bizarre.

I have, at certain points, been in heavy training, very serious training from him, and I am happily in sponge mode, because it feels so good. But there have been healings, and these healings are then amplified or somehow augmented with Kryon’s presence, concepts, love and encouragement.

I cannot see this as a guru thing, although I have long admitted that I follow a guru bhakti path, always have. The mystical bond that is beyond completion, the union of souls who are blended, merged, and yet still teaching each other, this is heaven to me. Always has been.

This is why my few true friendships have always been so profound, and it is why I retreated to poetry, as a young woman. Into a land where men had complex, exquisitely beautiful feelings, women understood destruction, and where the placement of a comma, just one little comma, could make sturdy or make fall a continent of meaning, a land mass of its creator’s embrace of its greatest challenge.

This land of symmetry and expression made sense, but I wasn’t dumb. I knew I couldn’t get a job as a poet out of college, and I knew that any real depth would have to come from experience itself. From experience, from pain and darkness and despair and joy and union and celebration, as actively or passively as I could walk through my days, open to what was next on the horizon, this was what I would have to do.

I did it, and I almost died so many times, and wanted to die more often than I like to admit. Even when, actually, especially when everything on the outside looked really good, and anyone with a head on their shoulders would say I was making my adult life a fine, upstanding one, that is when I was my most despondent, you see. That was when the juice was turned down real low.

My release came when the energy finally started to feel better. By June of 2011, I had my first vision, that of being a humungous angel, all lit up white, and one by one I was flicking my temporal problems off this massive highway of living light. Up the worry would come, and this massive lit up arm came up and flicked it away. I finally saw the foolishness, after seeing that every single one, every single one of my seemingly unsolvable problems were flicked away.

I found that it made sense, really, because the problems were so big to me, but up against that white current that angel was riding, the problems each looked like a tiny shard of pottery, sharp and awkward and already broken.

From there, things got pretty psychedelic, and anyone who wishes to read about it can, in Deeply Awake, because I thought it would be just like me to have a groovy vision, a life-altering event with light, a profound meditation, and then just sort of space it, forget about it, not dwell on it. I was afraid I would forget, if I did not dwell on it all.

You see, in my old life, this was the biggest thing of all. Stop ruminating, stop thinking, and just do the thing, dammit. A person of unlimited potential, someone who could have done just about anything, hobbled I was, with depression, with horrible homesickness, and with questions that laid upon me with such weight at times, that I really had a hard time catching my breath, sometimes for months, sometimes for years at a time. I mean this quite literally.

I had so many unanswered questions, things that made no sense, and they were simple, and they were big. I wanted to understand, with the biggest mind I could find, with my mind, hyper-charged everything, absolutely everything.

I wanted to be able to meld my love and innate understanding of numbers, the human body, sacred studies, and writing. I wanted to know profound esoterica, I wanted our real history, I wanted my lineage. How does one do that?!

Well, my answer was to get to the place where the only thing I could do, to keep a sense of sanity, was to write. I mean, I blew all of it apart, in retrospect, huge ass belief structures, and they are broken and obsolete now, all of them, lying today on my floor like crushed Popsicle-stick houses.

They’d been built for destruction. They never really stood a chance.

And that is why I want this to be a letter of goodbye. I have been in absolute love with the big concepts, exploring birth, death, illness, calamity, extremity, addiction, recovery, trauma, forgiveness, and man’s inhumanity to man. I did this in my personal life, and I did it by proxy, holding active witness for those dealing with their own demons, on the floors of psych hospitals and med-surg units, nursing homes and private beds, witness to the biggest moments of people’s lives, and their most altering.

I have yet to do the math, but one day I will draw up an estimate of how many patients I have had. Really, it would be a shadow of a number, because for every patient, there are loved ones and friends, parents, children, and those yet to be born.

Nursing provided me fit cover for this exploration. A good nurse is a deep one, a technically expert one, a relaxed and funny one. Someone who really has seen most of it, and can easily guess the rest, who can read a situation or person in no time, sometimes long distance, and finds that it is the difference between being assaulted, or murdered, or not, in a psych ward. Get sensitive or get hit, basically.

I really could not have set it up any better.

I did this, and continue to do it, now, since I was 24 years old, as some of you know, but, if we are being honest, I have been caretaking, taking care of patients, since I was 13. Many of my childhood friends had disabilities, so it did start younger, but I think a good cut off is age 13, when I started at St. Anthony’s, volunteering to be a volunteer candy striper.

My mom protected me by urging me to do something I did not want to do, not at all, not at all. I never really wanted to do any of it. But being in this healing arena seemed like it was beyond my control, actually. Again and again, I was led back into nursing, but I had better ideas, bigger plans. I wanted to remain in the land of poetry, symmetry, sensitivity and truth.

I couldn’t, and I shrug my shoulder now, and smile, and am glad for this seeming detour, something I have long thought of as a cruel cosmic joke. But you see, there is that love again, shining through the cracks of a middle-aged nurse’s skin, her eyes shining from remembering fondly all of the intimacy and love and compassion known throughout her career, a career which will span 40 years in February.

The love I always thought I’d only known from just a few, this love I can now see in my gas station clerk, the oil change guy, my handler at work, my little boy. I cannot see a situation in my life, really, that is not beaming with this love.

And this, to me, has always been more satisfying than human love, because there is no opposite, there is no argument, there is only admiration, adoration, humility, exchange, pride, celebration.

Even when being mentored, ridden hard to perform, I took every single thing that came out of Marge’s mouth as holy, because I could see it dripping off of her. I knew her to be an angel, and you do not disrespect angels. Ever. It is just so gauche, so sad, and so incomprehensible, when an angel is treated poorly. It reflects so badly on those doing the misbehaving, but, you know, up until 2012, it was a pretty level playing field.

A lot of us got real dinged up, hurt, it felt, disrespected and unseen and unloved, many of us. This is not a “poor me” lament, but an admission that this sort of love was held in disdain and distrust ma lot of the time, and I know I am not the only one here who felt this. Let’s all just be honest about it, come out of the shadows and greet each other. I have been waiting a really long time for this.

This is my better self you are meeting.

The thing is, there is a mystery to it, a bit of a koan, I am finding.

This better self, the one who resonates with the highest natures around, who learned from and was in devoted recognition of these people of impeccable integrity and honesty, and who could not really ever feel good about those who were not like that, well, I have come to see that this integrity is the ancient way, the new way, because this better nature we all have, it is the plan for us to come to see that if we can see it in others, the reason that we can do that is because it is within us.

I have within me that which vibrates, in perfect resonance, when I encounter the divine.

And there can then be no other conclusion than the most unbelievable, the most “blasphemous,” the most revolutionary understanding of our time: the Divine in me knows the Divine in you.

And some carry quite a lot of it, full time. Some carry it into tightly circumscribed areas of their endeavors.

But, this is the miracle, and the cause for the letter, I can now see that there is this nature in everyone. I understand, am in relationship with those who deny it, and punish those who understand it, or simply emanate it.

We are, basically, a compliant but completely uncontrollable lot, you know? People pick up on this. They mess with it, or try to. But sovereignty is sovereignty. It can be denied, hidden, even hated, but it is unchanged by such behavior and thinking. A fact, it is, and a metaphor, rich for exploration and donning.

Yesterday I wrestled all morning with worry, and found that it was changing. I channeled, and then things began to soften, and ease. Some very core thoughts kept being broadcast to me. I saw things very clearly. By the end of the night, I understood things I had not had access to in the morning. I was able to really own the thought of being protected. And then, as I snuggled into my bed, I understood something whole.

When I had been out at my dad’s house, taking care of his wife while he had cardiac surgery, we had eight days of intense light work and healing. It was a heady time, a time when I had a sustained absence of worry, and until last night I could not language this state that I yearn to settle within me.

And then it came to me.

Safe.

I had felt safe.

For eight days I had felt so utterly supported, really in every way, that I can only smile and relax when thinking on it now. Sure, my dad was in physical trouble, but all of us had gone in understanding and accepting that either he will live or he will die. Dad told his surgeon before the open heart, “Well, I guess when I wake up I’m either gonna see you or see my dad.” We had gone through such heartbreak with mom. We had toughened up during her slow death of five years.

But still, the pragmatism and humor has always been there, in my family. When mom was given her prognosis of 5 years, when she was 56, after having a massive heart attack, do you know the first thing she uttered, into the shocked air we were all trying not to breathe? She said, “Well, it looks like I’m gonna be the first one in the family to know who killed Kennedy.”

In my reality, there were few safe places, but we had a certain humor which reminded us, as we were silently ignoring ot killing each other, that, actually, none of this is real, so lighten up. It helped, and it still does.

And last night, I reviewed the things I had been told through the day. I remembered being repeatedly bombarded with the thought construct that said, “What makes you think that you can be guided professionally or with picking out your cats or your friends, but it isn’t there in your other, more troubled, less settled areas of your life? What makes you think that you can have that much planning of some things, but that others are completely random and abandoned by all of us?!”

And the one that bleated, again and again, “Look around you. Do you have enough today? Well, Do YOU?!?!?!? Just keep the focus there, sister. You have enough. You always have enough. You will not go without. This life was never one of survival. You are protected. You are protected. You are protected.”

And so, I went to sleep feeling something I had not known since May (and before that, had never had). I felt safe. I knew in my bones I am safe, last night. I said it out loud. I giggled. I said it again. I just said it three times again, just now, and could remember, while repeating it, that I had been saying it in the car on the way to Sam’s school, and while scrolling fb and checking emails and making coffee.

I am safe. I am safe. I am safe.

And then, here comes Kryon. My greatest teachers, my forever friend, my mentor and guide and angel.

The most recent channelings are from the Compassion Choir. I was not drawn to the Lemurian Choir until this fall, but I was right there for this one. The tones are not transmitted, which is fine, but the channelings around them are, as are the teachings readying us, leading up to the choir channeling, and they are all just so perfect. Just what I needed. As always. I laugh. There is no argument, and no shame in admitting this love affair. It is always just what I need, what I get from Kryon.

This reflectivity stuff that gummed up the works for me, I see it better now. I can feel it when the Great Central Sun’s love is beaming out of a person or a situation. I can feel it, and I bask in it.

But I always thought, and so it was true, that this love I felt was contained in the other, and that I needed the other so that I could feel it. Is that not why we get married? Is that not why we do the activities which feed our soul? To have access to the good stuff, to feel the love, you see.

But now, today, I see things much differently, and that is why I write.

I understand that I can feel this in others because it is in me, and I am recognizing it. Hence my conundrums around recognition.

The Teachers would, at times, remind me, and sometimes admonish me, as had my therapist before them, to not take another’s bad behavior to be an indicator that I had done something wrong, or was in error. I always felt somewhat responsible for a bad interaction, or relationship, or situation, or person.

Like, if I could just shine better, the thing would be ok, everything would be fine. There is something wrong with me, because this person is suffering. That sort of thinking. The ones who suffer, I suffered with them, and sometimes even for them. The Teachers would tell me, don’t imagine when you see someone being horrible to you, that you deserve it, basically, but I just couldn’t get there until today.

I read some of Alice A. Bailey’s work while hanging out at a metaphysical bookstore the other day. It set something right in me, reading about the seven rays, and the coming humanity who is embodying this seventh ray. Such pure prophecy, so long ago, and not mentioned, not revered, as it should be, in my opinion. Her work in Esoteric Psychology, it is wonderful. It will be like flogging a dead horse someday, but I think her work can nicely patch the bridge that is developing between those who are more attuned, and those who are not, but wish to be.

Anyhow, I read about how a First Ray individual thinks, what their traits are, and where their focus lies.

I saw then, still wearing my coat and sweating up a storm, in that bookshop, that I was reading a description of the ones who are in power currently. And it is not a bad ray, it is a necessary one, but it is quite brutal, the energy, and blunt and unthinking. Unaware of its awareness.

And then I read the sixth ray, and read of some who are thought to be in the sixth ray, and I was home, being talked about yet again, just like when I read my astrological chart or use Tarot or work the numbers. I felt pride and recognition, I felt peace and belonging, and I felt really really good, on that frigid and sunny afternoon in my most loved Denver bookstore.

Much of my work has been laced with survivor’s guilt. A stance of ,”Is it gonna be ok if I just step over here and rock and talk to myself? Is it meaningful, what is going on in my head? Do I have value, when what I value is not what is valued by you?”

And then, in 2011 and into 2012, after seeing this white angel of light during a song at church, I had all those experiences, all those conversions, meditations and visitations. I worked, looking back on it, like a coolie.

No breaks, really, all of it fun, but deadly serious, all of it sacred beyond language, and all of it talked about honestly, here, and dispersed into the ethers for others who might know of which I speak.

I am a doubter, and had a lot to overcome. I have not and will not publicly discuss all that I have experienced this lifetime, and this letter serves as my assurance to you that there are horrors which can be so forgiven, so integrated, so thanked, that they transform into something beyond beauty, an integration and forgiveness which then transmutes into a crystalline understanding of the great sacrifices that were made on my behalf, and no one is then guilty of anything but loving me, and carrying out my wishes, for my highest good.

All of it becomes sanctified, and then, strangely, sort of forgotten. The weapons dull, the blunt objects lighten, and the pain is gone, and the fear is gone, and the anticipation of more pain and fear are also gone.

Kryon said that the new traits of the awakened human being are those of Compassion, Tolerance, Temperance and Generosity.

And this awareness helped me to have a dream, which I will tell you about in closing, but I wish to dwell just a little bit within those words.

I see, as I roll them around in my mouth, that there have been times, and areas, where I have felt and had no compassion, no tolerance, no temperance and no generosity. Whole blocks of time, and whole relationships based on the frank imbalance of these attributes, me often screaming at the brick wall which is so easily erected when these qualities go out of a relationship, and so aware of the times when I felt none of these things toward those people and situations which deserved nothing less.

And I saw, felt, those storylines turn into paper, and then taken by a wind I couldn’t feel. I can now see how those qualities could have changed everything, so often, had they been demonstrated, had I demonstrated them.

I remember when I was given a magenta ray, in meditation, and told the gift was compassion, and its attribute was gratitude. I was aware, suddenly, of how good it felt to feel compassion, and how little I had allowed myself to feel in the past. How I was drawn to those who could not embody it, always fighting and arguing and voting against it.

Tolerance. I thought of the people I have hated, the situations I deemed unbearable, intolerable, like when I was first confronted with the notion of being here for at least another 18 years. I was confronted with the person I had become, an intolerant, belligerent and angry one, continually bellowing and crying for revolution inside, while shuffling along in the line, not saying a peep, quiet, lidded eyes never revealing the battle raging within me.

Temperance. Oh! I love the thought of temperance. Permission, it seems clear, to stop posturing, and to stop wondering if it is real. Temperance, for me, is the ability to shut up and let someone else talk, to stop peacocking and start listening.

I’m sure it will have different meanings to others, but to me, it is a sublime permission slip to just sit down and shut up, and listen. Be amazed by others’ stories and trials, open to their hearts, no longer needing their approval or understanding, and, thankfully, no longer wanting to talk, but instead, to simply be in another’s presence.

And then there is generosity. I love this generosity of spirit I see my friends and mentors carry. I have always wanted to be that generous, and really, thinking as the tape played, this is one I sort of have down cold. This is something I actually excel at, and no one had to teach me it. I have always been generous.

But a spirit of poverty settled on me, one that was inherited and then horribly misunderstood, for very grand lessons, of course, and now, the idea of generosity returns to me and really hits home, and I am filled with gladness.

I can afford it, the voices have been telling me for well over a year, of anyone at work there tonight, of anyone in this lobby, of anyone in this class, I can afford to be the happy one. The untroubled one. The giver. I can afford it. Generosity.

But this has yet to manifest as cash. Just enough for one day, it continues to go, just like the ones wandering out in the sand for forty years, every day taken care of, protected, and every day worrying and bellyaching and giving ourselves ulcers, worrying about tomorrow.

So, then, after this tape, there was another, and it was good too, but I forget its content now. The last was the choirs, and I will just say this about it. He described the years to come. 2015, its meaning, and its choir. And then 2016, and the amazing things that will be done.

I have been with them as they opened the portal at Lake Titicaca. It was a visceral, physical experience I had in that listening, as they all are, but none more than that one. These quantum events need not occur in temporal time with any synch at all. It exists for all time, and is new each time. I was moved to laughter and to tears during many channels, and then, came the discussion of doing the Forgiveness Choir in Israel in 2016.

I realized then, yes, this is just going to keep getting better now. I am to travel to Israel, or to Shasta. I am slated. I can participate in it all, and there is no expiration date. There is no stopping this now, and it cannot do anything but get better.

It crushed the long-ago me when The Teachers left, and I wandered around heartbroken and weirded out after those years concluded. I had been stretched and changed, but was completely out of context, and yet in perfect timing. I felt awkward for so very long.

And now, I see this is because of some fundamental misunderstandings, of course, but also, it just was not time yet! I thought that I did not have, within me, what The Teachers gave to me, reminded me of, week after week. I considered it some sort of weird anomaly that I had had access to them at all. Maybe it had been a mistake, and maybe it had been a cruel joke, and maybe it was just a scheduled relief in the pain my life had seemingly always been, but I just did not get it until now.

That was then, and this is now. I see now that it is not at all unusual to have been affected by these great teachers, as I am also affected by nature, and poetry, and friendship, and sexual union. Not unusual at all, because I am, when in that presence, my better self, and, through these last years, I am now in touch with my Higher Self, the one which is entangled with the Great Central Sun, who sits at the feet adoring All That Is, the one who has been shining through my actions and words all this time, completely unrecognized, completely unrecognized, completely unrecognized.

In karma, and in lesson, we encounter things we say we’d rather not, and we hold fear for the things we can see coming, and those that blindly sideswipe us. In karma and in lesson, all is not as it seems, and great tragedies contain the highest form of love, of course. In karma and in lesson, light and dark are weighed and measured, and, not that long ago, they were almost equal. But the dark held sway where it should not have, back then, and compassion and generosity, tolerance and temperance had been unable to shine through sometimes. The bodhisattvas got tired, the spiritual weightlifting became so hard.

In the old days, and maybe even now from time to time, we got beat up, but this is what has changed, and will only get better.

I know how to work with this energy here. I know this energy, the energy which is bursting with golden liquid love, the one which is singing with love and honor, this energy I know very well. It has always been my creator, but until last night and today, I did not really get that I was aware of it because I am of it.

And somehow, miraculously, with great brotherhood and collaboration, I am this energy now. I feel no fear, and I do mean this. I have said it so many times in my writing, and each time I have meant it and celebrated it, and each time I learned there was more to it than what I’d previously known. Increasing trebles of love, forgiveness, benevolence. That is what I have known since all that time ago, when the lights finally came on for the last time.

Sure, the lights came on slow, as they should have. I had a lot to inventory, you know? I had a lot to parse and disseminate. I wanted, needed to know what was mine, and what was everyone else’s. And I did it.

So I am saying goodbye to someone who doubted herself and her experiences most of all, who took over when the mean ones exited stage left and stage right, and who became a master of self-loathing and self-doubt. I know of the scenes, know all of the lines, and am just relieved, really, that I don’t have to say them anymore. I wouldn’t be convincing anymore, because I don’t believe them anymore.

To end, I will tell you of my dream. I got done with the Kryon channelings, and was urged to sleep. I snuggled in and lay on my right hip, the hip that has been hurting since 2007, which, today feels brand new.

I lay down and my dream was this: I was outside a Goodwill with my sister. She and I like to go junking. The Goodwill was set in a house, and we did not make it in. Mary had wandered down the driveway and was looking through a bunch of stuff. I came up and found that she was foraging through donations that had not made it to the donation area. She indicated it was fair game, and to dive in.

I found really amazing camping equipment, and was thrilled, because now I would be completely kitted out. I said that in my dream. Completely kitted out. I could go anywhere now. Expensive flints, awesome cooking gear, even a blow-up mattress. Then I moved to the desk, and found many things that were personal to someone, and this is when the dream began to break apart.

It was the thought of unfinished work, unrealized hope that woke me up. I had been thumbing through a stamp collecting book set, and the pages were empty. I realized I was going through someone’s things, someone who had been abandoned, whose personality, whose beingness, had either died or been thrown away by someone who no longer cared. I was looking through props which once held magnificent meaning to an individual.

In the dream, my sister and I had worked in tandem, she concentrating on her interests, me on mine. I never asked her if I could have the camping equipment, or if she would prefer it. It had been mine, clear as day, left there for me, a gift, it seemed, from someone I did not know and could never thank.

I then knew that the shift she and I have been preparing for is nearly here, and I was grateful for the warning. I am ready.

I am now happily ending this long letter. I am in forever awe of my fortitude, my abilities, and how much I have been trusted and loved by All That Is. I am humbled by this process just as surely and truly as I have been uplifted.

It is a solid love, a sure and steady one, that radiates from me now, one without preening, without needing to ask you for your approval, without the need to discuss any of it, oddly.

And this is the dissonance which still makes me shake my head a little. And the one which I will need to see is little more than a smoky phantom, blown away with one good belly laugh. I wonder, at times, how this will go, how it will be, now. What my life holds and where I will be working, living, focusing on, in the days, weeks, and even in the years to come.

I know now that all doors open with some simple attributes, ones which I want only to embody and get to know, in every single situation I encounter, from here on out. Compassion, Tolerance, Temperance and Generosity. These are octaves, expressions of wise benevolence. These are things I can do, that I do, indeed, do and that I am. And I have permission now to be and know more of them.

Those who say no to this, oh, they are the ones who will not be fitting in now, you see. They’re out there still, but they can be seen for what they are now, using such grand metrics in the measuring of a man or of a woman.

And I know this now, that I am these things, always was. I am a solar angel, and I am divine. I love the divine because I am made of this divinity, as you are, and all you love, and all you hate, and all you barely tolerate.

Above all, I am a messy human, and do not follow rules real well. I get to try on new behaviors now, and have given myself permission to act in brand new ways, with no defense, for none is needed, not anymore.

I say goodbye now to you, my loving reader, who has walked with me through dark forests of towering doubt, who has climbed high mountains with me and explored caves I did not know I contained, and who summits with me today celebrating that we are indeed our better selves, that we always have been, and it is just the burning off of the old ways, the layers, the misconceptions that is bringing these tears to our eyes now.

I remember there was a time in the last couple of weeks when Kryon said something about an onion. That the onion wishes to know itself, and to do so, it must peel back layer upon layer of itself, to get to its core. And he said this just after I had had an odd experience at my mirror, seeing my squat body and spindly legs covered in rags, and then the rags burned off, and then I realized that which had burned off the clothing was me, that I was on fire,

I was light. I stood there feeling and looking completely different, but the same.

I am on fire, I am light, it is all burning off me now, that is what this is, that is ascension, the burning off of the old attire, in light. Ascension is becoming this light, I thought. The onion, that helped too. Just different ways of saying the same thing.

Our better selves, our core, that is the thing, and the thing which makes guru practice a thing of the past, a nice metaphor for a bygone era. I was always that which I loved, and I loved it because there is nothing in here, within me, here, that is not love.

I am my better self today, and I will now navigate this new life gladly, with great trust and overwhelming gratitude for having been so trusted, so guided and nurtured, so wonderfully coached, and so completely and utterly loved.