A concise, enjoyable, accessible and deep talk on what these energies have been like to live, and how I have understood, ridden and mined them, my gift to you today. I hope you enjoy.
Deeply Awake — Work, Now 3-13-14 By Kathy Vik
The last time we spoke, I was feeling blank, oddly but unmovingly blank. That went on til nighttime, when I had a good cry, asking for help. Two relatively sleepless nights, same ole-same ole.
I knew by nightfall that I was going through another change. I donned my armor, my shield, my sword. I concentrated on love, even though everything was on mute. I tried to elevate my thoughts to love.
Went to sleep murmuring, “It’s time for gifts, now. It’s time for gifts. Make it wonderful and sparkly, and have people offering me gifts, and let me know it’s you. It’s time for gifts now.”
I felt better the next morning. I am neutral toward this process now, which is a gift in itself, actually. It was very weird and scary the first few times, and the time spent was elongated. I think as things progress the time it takes to come into a new vibratory state, after an expansion (often felt innately, not consciously), then the contraction, revisiting the old vibration, and then resonating with the new pitch, well, I think it happens faster now.
It has been a while since I have had such a night, but it fits a pattern. Sometimes my bootless cries are made while driving, while on the can, while at a movie. It’s always safe, when I reach that place, but it is a peculiar and, by now, familiar place. I was glad I had not gone through the extremes I once did, and then I had my night of crying and praying.
On the way to work the next day, I remembered the prayer I’d made, the command, the invitation to play, and I affirmed it, with excitement.
I realized, the last couple of days, as the lights have gotten brighter than ever, once again, that when I am in emotional distress of any kind, really, it is mostly due to projecting my consciousness into a future or a potential that I really do not want, and may dread, or fear, or wish I could avoid.
If I stay there, then my distress grows. I have become aware of the feeling states these thoughts produce, just very vividly, the last couple of days. It is clear to me that this is sort of like an amnesiac regaining a memory. It feels organic, what I understand now, and I feel like what I understand I can and do demonstrate, actively but gently, all day long, with everybody, including myself.
I was given a glimpse into what my cat Minky might be experiencing in her consciousness. I thought about how it might be possible to talk with my cats in a new way. Rosie is a teacher of mine. She’s laid down some heavy things, with a simple gesture, with a nod.
Each of them have blown me away with information, with knowledge, that it is hard to translate, but this last thing, I think it bears discussion, however brief. It’s all tied together, I promise.
As I was petting Minky I sort of asked her if it was ok, to just be with her and feel what she does. Relatively quickly, I sensed a rushing sort of feeling, into her, and become acutely aware of this moment.
It was just this moment, for all time, indefinitely, and in this state, none of the future stuff makes a dent. It’s not applicable. I felt more and more overwhelmed with this pure joy, this pure love, this absolute abandon, in this very moment, in this act of licking, of being petted, of being here. No overlay of thought, just pure celebration. That was the word that lingered. Celebration.
I have been trying to recapture the essence of me, during the depths of my changes, spring and summer, 2012. I went through massive physical and mental and attitudinal changes in just a few months, lost allergies, changed my diet, on and on it goes. A potent time. Joyful, everything, joyful, and yet, there was worry, doubt, and many, many things I did not understand.
But recapturing the essence of it is getting to where Minky led, to this moment, to the absolute, truthful, beautiful realization that that’s all there is.
This idea of being in the moment, this one, now, and dismissing the distress as a symptom, possibly, of projecting my consciousness irresponsibly, I gave it a whirl today. That’s the innate thing, it’s just sort of kicking in, all on its own.
I felt all these projections, in all directions, come back into me, as I was waiting for the light to change, on the way to work today. I felt it all come back to me, every goal and hope and aspiration, every object I have craved, every high, every novel experience, I brought it all in, and said out loud, “I am here, now. I am here, now. I am here, now.” I felt good, complete, somehow, as I turned left onto Colfax. On my way to work, to my gifts, my miracles.
It has been my saving grace. It has deepened me as no other profession could have. I am blessed to have been a part of this profession. It’s an archaic system, inadequate and not as good as it could be, but still, I am proud of what I do for a living.
The thing is, I didn’t always think that way. I considered it my burden, by sacrifice, my second choice. I felt cheated out of a literary life, and my writer’s ego was continually bruised when people didn’t recognize the very weirdness I used to feel ashamed of.
I had lamented not having been surrounded by literary people, well read, well rounded. I am not. Not at all. Never have been. And yet, here I am, thirty years later, and, although grateful that I kept my love of the arts alive all this time, I no longer resent those who are not sensitive, or who have interests other than mine. It’s more than that. It’s so much more than that, though.
I had been reticent to talk about work because it’s not appropriate to speak of specific situations, or people, I work with. And for the first month or more, I was obsessed, so very obsessed, with the issues at work. I was puzzling over all them incessantly, talking out loud, making speeches, organizing, expressing.
Then I had that experience, as described previously, about blankness, and obsessing, and all sorts of other things, of course. Since that night of having tears for things, things have come into focus. I understand my distress comes from hopelessness, or fatigue, or this bad feeling I get when I see no relief in sight, just obligations. I sort of hit a wall. I don’t like living that way. I prefer free-form.
The last week or so, I have been considering being exceedingly well-off, while getting dressed, or driving, or while on a coffee break. It feels really good. Just to feel safe, secure, no financial obligations, everything in order. I like how it feels. Tinkering with it, and this burgeoning sense of confidence I have.
I feel sheepish talking about it, but I feel groundedly, foundedly confident. There is nothing that turns me off more, frankly, than ungrounded, unbalanced confident people. I’ve witnessed it at its extreme, and find it ugly in all its flavors. There is a very fine line between confidence and arrogance, and too few understand this line is a chasm into which those who do not seek, do not discover it, to walk around it instead.
Work, for me, has always been a salvation. I seemed to know instinctively, no matter how odd and crazy my insides got, if I could keep the outsides functioning, even nominally, if necessary, then I was ok. And so, for the two years I too off, and for the eight years preceding that, things got progressively ready for shift, let’s say. But still, I showed up for work. All these years, and struggles, and changes, but I always showed up for work.
Work is where I have met such a multitude of people, and so many good souls, so many masters. Work is where I went to feel competent.
I began to question my competence, and anyone who has seen me practicing at my peak knows this is bizarre, but there I was. It was just one more thing I was attached to, one more definition that was untrue. I am competent at work.
Hmm. This is an attachment.
And I broke it. Not so much by what I did, but I moved under a dark cloud, worked with suspicious, sometimes corrupt, and often unkind people, just a string of places that kicked my ass. I’d had it with work groups, unplugging as I did in 2012. I was gun shy, but would make calls, during that time, trying to land a permanent gig, but, no play. No juice at all. No return phone calls!
We hung with it, and Sam got used to hearing “later,” and “on pay day,” at the store a lot, but we got through it.
I felt like an incompetent outcast at work, a lot of the time. Just, probably, a treble of the same blah blah I’ve been telling myself forever, that I am an outcast, a foreigner, an alien.
So, I have come through all of this freaking psychodrama realizing a thing or two. First, given to me this morning pulling into work, is the notion that these guys, for all the frustration and all the shifting sand, these people are doing me such a solid. Each and every one of them are special, and they are helping me during this time of integration. They’ve stepped up to help me, as I have stepped up to help them. It is a truly beautiful thing.
That made the nonsense I see playing out around me tolerable.
I am shining, as I have never shone, at this new job. I am sought out, and I am kind to those who seek me out, helpful and kind. People like me. I hold myself differently than those around me, and it’s as obvious as my chipped tooth. Just as Marge did for me, and Carolyn, I’m raising people’s game. I new that going in. And so, the details obsessed me, for a few weeks, framing and reframing, puzzling, always puzzling.
Things are quieter now. I notice I am not as reactive, more instructive, but still goofy and laughing a lot. I’ve finally given myself permission to be competent, to admit I am balanced and confident in my balance, never arrogant, always thoughtful.
Yes, I have my moments, and I have my coping strategies. There are a couple at work who are occasionally successful at pushing a button or two, but it is rare, and it is always followed by an explanation and an apology. Always.
And so, I see all of this playing out, and I am struck with the beauty, the impermanence, and yet the solidity, the sturdiness, of this chapter of my life. Who knows if this is a short story or a super-long novel? Who knows? But I can be here now. I can find joy in this moment, and I can take remarkable care of myself.
The last bit that has been playing in my head, and out, too, is the idea that having what I said I wanted is not as important anymore. I was cooking one night when it dawned on me there are things I have always wanted to do this lifetime, and some of it, I’m just not going to be able to work in.
I thought, while looking at the cover of Sunset Magazine, on top of the microwave, that maybe, for now, I can drop this determination to live in Leadville. Maybe that’s a past life calling to me. Maybe it’s an echo. I could let it go.
With that, I had a great sense of relief. I could feel things I’d promised myself I’d do, or stuff that I have always felt a little inadequate because I hadn’t achieved it, it sort of melted off of me. It felt good.
Maybe it’s another echo of this theme, of being here now.
It has taken this work experience for me to experience myself like this, and I am grateful for the gander. I would not have known, not really, the changes that have become a new normal for me, changes I am proud of, and now come from effort, training, intent, depth. I don’t, can’t resent those who don’t want to go further.
I don’t think less of the person who’s finding, as I often feared I would, their reserves completely exhausted, things going unwell, being in a bad situation. There’s a lot of that going on for others. It’s not all peachy for everyone.
And here I come, in the thick of it, and they are letting me shine! That’s the part I am really overjoyed and incredulous with. They are encouraging me to be myself! Never have I encountered such a thing, to this degree.
I want to end on that, because it is such a miracle. It is hard to believe oneself competent when one is surrounded by critical, mean, petty people. Did the world turn nice, or did I change? Our subculture tells us it is a mixture, that everyone’s vibration is increasing. We are all seeing more clearly.
And really, I think that’s the truth. I have felt like the world has been sleeping, preparing, and now things are moving. Maybe it’s just my crying jag, and I am being a douche for globalizing an emotional episode. But I think it is bigger than that, much bigger. I see what I have become, thanks to this new work. I see the changes.
Others see it, and have no history, so there is no dissonance, just invitation. And it is wonderful. To see smiles, to have people ask how I am and care what I answer. Lord God Almighty, it’s been a long time coming.
And now I have the truth to it. It’s not this set of people, this job, that is the miracle. They are wonderful, and good and dear friends, but the manifestation came from the inner work. The preparation was a lifetime, and yet, this can be said for any moment in one’s. That thought has been frequent too, to end.
The idea that everything I have been or will be, it is in this moment, this is my portal to it all, this moment.
How precious this life! This heart! These eyes! And the words I speak, the actions I take, the reactions I choose to act out, oh, this is where the work is done.
Moment to moment, one moment after another. Miraculous to find this at work, through work.
The problems, every single one of them, they are solvable. We are on a grand adventure.
It’s not lost on me how many loved ones prayed for me and showed me support during the lean times. I was so well loved through this. Thank you.
That’s my beautiful manifestation. There is a bit more, but I want to wait a little before telling you more. But, I tell you, things are looking up.
And now, the next thought is not about how it will slip through my fingers or be taken from me. Those projections, I am on top of it now.
Deeply Awake — Adaptation 3-10-14 By Kathy Vik
I’ve missed you. Driving home from work today, I realized that I miss you enough to do something about it today.
Prior to the end of January, I had an abundance, an over-abundance, of free time, great, unwieldy blocks of it. I had two years of waking up at 6am and having no plans, and no money with which to pursue interests requiring cash. I wrote a lot.
Now, I have small chunks of free time, and although less maniacally territorial about my time off, I sense a generalized rushing, a generalized push, that I did not before. I think it has to do with being tied back into a clock. Weeks went by when I did not know or care what day of the week it was. And then, prayers were answered, blocks removed, and I came into a good job. I am adjusting.
But the adjustment is not because of work. This is of central importance. I had always seen work itself as a font of relief, the nexus from which everything else flows. I have had to rethink this stance.
What I am beginning to realize is that what I am experiencing internally has so very little to do with where I find myself, what I find myself doing. How I feel, what I am thinking, what I am focusing on, this drives the experience, any experience, and calls to me all experience. I know that now.
It’s hard to believe it has been nearly two months since starting this new position. I have found I am a highly immersive problem solver, and this is what I wish to spend a couple minutes on, but just a couple.
I have recently realized just how obsessive I am, when faced with what appears to be unsolvable problems. It has been a revelation to become immersed in a system, learning from its participants just what is seen as impossible and what is not.
Learning everyone’s capacities, their willingnesses, their blind spots. I have become acutely aware of my sensitivity, and have found, the last two months, that I can take what I intuit to the bank. I can feel into problems, and into people, and seem to be a balm to most people I encounter. There are a few who are resistive, but they do not consume me as before.
The obsessiveness was brought to my attention Saturday morning, when I awoke in inner silence. The stillness was in stark contrast to what had been in my head, and with the absence of all that thinking, I began to realize some fundamental things.
I realized, in my stillness, that obsessing, immersing oneself, this is a style, and it can therefore be altered. After a disconcertingly still and peaceful day at work today, on the way home, it dawned on me that what I had done today was to live out the “What If,” that had been visiting me Saturday morning.
What if I could work without guilt nagging me? Without problems getting turned up to Volume 11?
What if I could solve issues as they come up and remain internally untroubled?
Because, today, all those things happened.
But it goes deeper than that. A few months ago, I woke up from a night of sleep, a witness to the strangest re-populating of a reality I’d never expressly asked for. I woke up, to my shock and amazement, completely blank. And maybe it was only for a split second, but in those brief moments, I had NO preconceptions, and seemingly, no memory.
Then one by one the situations came to me. Laid down on me, in my fields. Then the people. And then the feelings. Oh, it was then, when the feelings came rushing in, that I realised that how I feel has more to do with what I think about something than anything else.
So, this blankness. I felt it more acutely than I expected today.
I felt absent, emotionally, from work today. I felt a cushion of sorts. This morning, all the way to work and in the car, readying to walk into my day, I felt, again and again, such comfort. I felt like I was leaning back into a loved one’s arms. I felt so completely loved, comforted, stilled. I leaned back in my car, one leg in, one leg out, leaning into this feeling. Warm, loving, encompassing, palpable. I felt like I was leaning back into the arms of love.
I chalked some of the blankness up to feeling pulled, energetically, to other situations which are not work-related. No one at work needs to hear about my bizarre family situation, my dad’s dying girlfriend and his concomitant troubles. No one needs to hear about how my son wept last night, confessing to me the presence of personal demons which paralyze him with fear and dread. No one needs to know how I am stalled with my writing, feeling weird about not wanting to do it, feeling nervous about what could happen to my psyche if I don’t No one needs to know it.
And having a day like this, it just softens my heart to others, those I work with, those I meet at the store, that others may have even more complicated problems than mine. And they may not even have some of the skills I do. A day like today reminds me of the importance, the mandatory-ness of being kind, of not being needy, of being clear.
I knew, somehow, that even though I felt more and more blank as the hours progressed today, I could feel as if the biggest part of me was not absent, but occupied. I felt I had just enough focus to do my job well, and not enough to obsess. Was it because others in my life are having problems? Or is it just the way of it today?
I realized a while back, when my son was asserting a new truth, that all I really can do for the people I love is to love them. I do not know what lessons, what realities, my son has lined up to experience while here. I do not know what ancient wounds are being opened, or healed, by my dad’s girlfriend’s death. It’s not my walk, they are not my burdens, and I am only peripherally responsible. What Sam has set out to know and do this lifetime is between him and his god. All I can do is love him unconditionally.
I realized, while having this thought, that so very much maternal guilt could just slide off of me. Certainly, the old adage of apples and trees applies, and it is easy to imagine that one’s child’s issues are caused by the parents’ lack of knowledge or compassion or sense, but really, I had things I had to know, do, be this lifetime. No one was going to talk me out of these directives. No one can, to this day. To give this sort of freedom to another is, I think, part of the exercise.
So, I was going to say, a few paragraphs back, that I had felt blank today because I was worried about my loved ones, but that is a false statement. I don’t worry about my loved ones. I don’t fear for them. Not one bit. I know they have each called to them the experiences they are grappling with now. They need what all struggling human beings need. They need love. If I can assist in lightening the burdens they carry, I feel joy. If I can’t assist, I feel love.
The sense of completion I have felt lately has been good to experience. Feeling old, old storylines come together and being overjoyed that even the oldest tale is being told so much more happily, this has been a huge discovery, a great source of joy, and power, and peace.
I have learned to give folks lots of room. To be messy, to be scared, to be ineffective, to be miserable. Loving, this is the way of it now, just loving it all.
I understand now that the stories, they will keep on getting told. Events will continue to occur. Unthinkable things may occur. Moments of great love, great compassion, they will keep coming. Situations will arise.
I guess I am beginning to see that a lot of it has nothing to do with me, intimately. So much of what I witness now, I can see as opportunities to cut someone slack, show them a way out, get them to smile. Life has become simpler, but that doesn’t mean that hard things are not going to darken my doorstep.
If I were in this alone, maybe those events, feelings, and thoughts would not visit me. But I am in community, and I realize now that what one person is dealing with affects all, and that we are at the mercy of one another. How we play out the situations which confront us, or the ones we love, this is where the test is performed.
So, now, I have written, but I still feel blank. I feel good, just unperturbed, maybe just a little sad, sort of tired. It is a good evening to eat, watch some TV and go to bed early.
I will be swept by this current without fear, and maybe, in the end, that’s what this blankness is. No fear. Leaning back into the Ancients’ arms, knowing I have a place here, even when I feel I don’t, this is what the blankness might be hinting at.
That this has been a monumental time of change is an understatement. It’s just that, until I wrote this, I didn’t really get how big all of the changes have been.
I have missed you, and I am glad we had a few minutes together today. I feel scattered, though, just not all here, so I will end this now, stay in meditation, as I do now always, and ride this chunk of energy out.
I love my life, I love my god, I love that I have fewer questions than answers about life and god, and I love your willingness to let me tell you about it.
I am wishing you every happiness from my granny chair in Denver, Colorado.
Deeply Awake — Better Now 1-20-14 By Kathy Vik
Collective Soul does a song, “Better Now,” and I have hugged trees to it, driven while speeding, and cleaned the house to it. There aren’t too many words to it, so I’m going to write them here.
Oh, I’m newly calibrated
All shiny and clean
I’m your recent adaptation
Time to redefine me
Let the word out, I’ve got to get out,
Oh I’m feeling better now
Oh, I’m happy as Christmas
All wrapped to be seen
I’m your recent acquisition,
Time to celebrate me
The world is done shakin’, the world’s done shakin’, the world’s done shakin’ me down…
And because that’s how I have been feeling here lately, I thought I’d start out by quoting my favorite band. Once I am done here, I intend to go buy, and then drink, some whiskey, and I’m going to watch the rest of Grey’s Anatomy, and will, at some point, wind up in a warm, scented bath. The world’s done shaking me down.
Of course, after the trips I have had, I understand a little better than this “world” doing all the shaking down of people is nothing more, in the end, than my perception of the world, and getting shaken down is not the end of the world, so to speak.
This brings me to the miracle I have been wanting to tell you about, since it happened to me, Sunday morning.
I woke up feeling, almost immediately, sort of sick inside for having written what I wrote last. I had a long list of reasons to feel all sorts of awful about it, and then, just as strong and pure as you please, something happened.
I realized, sitting there emoting, sitting up in my bed, feeling that odd mixture of terror and doom that I get when I feel I have exposed myself inappropriately, and inexpertly, I realized just a few things, in rapid succession, and had no argument to any of these new thoughts.
I guess I am equivocating because the thoughts themselves seem to be so obvious, and so well worn for me, that to admit that I just did not GET them until Sunday morning is a little embarrassing, all on its own.
I heard/understood and then really, really got, believed, accepted, the following: It really is ok if I wrote eleven pages of sheer crap yesterday. It really, really, really is ok. Because hardly anyone reads me anyway, (A), and B, who gives a shit if anyone, me included, likes it one little bit. So what? So what?
And with that, it was as if years of self-reproach just sort of peeled off of me. To say there was a before and an after moment would be shockingly accurate. And, once I was in the other camp, looking back on my fear and belief in karmic punishment, and taking myself oh-so-seriously, I felt new, and I felt better than just better, now.
I have written about it before, how you can read the same language, parrot it, even, and until it just gets in, until it sinks in, really really sinks in, it’s different, than when you finally get it.
It’s like math, or any other thing that one must pursue doggedly, see repeated often, and feel so allied to that even though the questions and refutations still keep active within, after that moment of grace, when everything can be accepted, it’s just a concept, or something someone else says that fires you up.
It has always been that way for me when I have worked with teachers, and books, they are my teachers too. Gurus, I have, I guess, had them, although I consider them my higher self in someone else’s bio-suit, but books, even movies, they can all be teachers.
I surrounded myself, these last couple of years, with the things which always made sense to me, even when they made sense to no one in my tribe. I kept my head down and wrote about the things that came to mind, and I chronicled my meditations and hallucinations, and felt, very early on, that even though I could get into an argument about it all, the bottom line is that I had found something that spoke to me that was left lonely by the thoughts and activities others pursue as if they are life and death. For me, understanding God was life and death, understanding myself was life and death, and finding peace was the only option open to me.
How does one love the unlovable, the unloving, the cruel? How does one find courage in the face of social death? How does one find peace when there is no peace anywhere? How does one stop feeling lonely, when alone or with a group of friends? Do I fit in? Am I accepted? Do I have a right to be here? How did this all come about?
And on the questions went, on the adventure went, and I followed the clues that came to me, and found, bit by bit, that even if no one else ever understood the things I did, at least I was beginning to see some sense, for me, always just for me, because finding these truths tended to really alienate people from me, did for a long time.
But something happened about a week ago. The energy just was different. I woke up one day, and everything just felt different.
Like other times in my life, this new chapter has its own feeling state, its one body state, and with it comes smells, and scenes, and things I know are real, but just haven’t shown up yet. And that is a far cry from where I once was, groping, hoping, feeling absolutely lost and found all at once. Deconstructed, I was, have been, for a long time.
And then that morning, just a week ago, I felt a sturdiness in the air. I think, on my facebook feed, I said that everything just feels more REAL.
That sense has not abated. It’s not wishful thinking, that things have changed, or are gonna change. They have changed, and now I am in something altogether new.
And so, then, in the morning a couple days later, when it was simple and obvious, that feeling all those old feelings of self-doubt, recrimination, blame, shame, all of it, it all seemed like a time consuming and technicolor exercise I no longer had to engage in, I got up off my bed, and got into the shower.
This is new. This understanding that I can, I really, really can, dangle on any cross I want to, there are so many to choose from, but, today, nah, I think I’ll just walk, well, that was a day for the books.
I think what is important, for me, is to remember that things are problems until they aren’t, for me. Whether this is due to a cumulative learning style, or whether it’s me, intuiting energetic changes far before they are obvious, I don’t know. And I do know that there are many who have never felt a need to wrestle with any of the things I have, and so they may see no merit in the struggle and no joy in its end, but, for me anymore, I am not interested in comparing my road with anybody else’s.
And I remain totally disinterested in doing anything but sharing my patch of road with you in this way. It’s not mine to tell you how to do things. It’s mine to figure out how to do things, just for me, for my own well-being, and then, if you want to ask me a few questions, well, then, we are going to have a wonderful talk.
I will tell you, without divulging too much, that these miracles started before the delivery date, so to speak. I experienced, last week, a massive healing, over lunch, and the peace I feel from those hours still calms me, and makes me smile.
An ancient trouble was forgiven on that day, forgotten, really, and left to die under the table. An afterthought.
Two great souls got out of their skins, out of their stories, and I was given such love, such honor, such love, and I really really needed it, but just from this one person. It was a thorn I have had in my paw for decades, and it was taken out with love, patience, humor, recognition, by a very dear friend, someone I’d lost hope I’d be able to refer to, truly, as friend, this lifetime.
And so, I remain unconvinced that all th work I have done has been for naught. I used to think this scribbling was unimportant, sometimes, and narcissistic, and without real purpose. I was wrong, though, about all of that. I know that now.
I have been great at shrinking from the world and its obligations, and there is still a lot about how people behave that I just don’t get, but I guess what has happened is a critical mass has been met inside me, and what was once conjecture, what was once a pristine and beautiful belief structure that I knew to be true but had been, I’d felt, untested, is now working, gloriously working, pumping to me things I understand, events I have prayed for, and feeling states I have longed a lifetime to own, embody, not just know about or agree with but be.
The feeling states are simple ones. That I am fine just as I am, and no one can really be my judge. That there are very few people I meet with an inner authority like mine, and for years I doused my authority because I couldn’t feel any resonance at all. That the things I feel the most ashamed about are just as beautiful as the things I feel great pride in, and there is just no need to hate myself, or to be depressed.
Imagine, understanding that, no matter what, I will never be depressed for long, that I will always, now, find that center from which the narration, the dictation comes, and I really am ok. Hours and hours go by now, and I realize, sometimes, there is just not one thing to worry about.
That is what , I think, that morning miracle was all about. I realized in a flash that I really could go down the rabbit hole and start worrying and hating myself and fearing, but I didn’t have to, not anymore, and I was serving no one’s interested by engaging in that thinking. And so, I listened to the sense I heard being made in my head, and I went a different route, one which is lighter.
And that’s how I feel. I feel lighter, my mood has lightened, my thinking has too, and so have my sights.
There is a trust which comes from having abandoned all hope to finding a home here on earth, among people. There is a trust which has settled into me which has, now that I look over it all, comes from incrementally walking from everything which did not feel tolerable, true or beautiful, and going a different route altogether. One no one, at the time, understood or respected. But I did. And I pursued my interests just as I have anything which matters to me, at the near exclusion of everything else.
But to solve my Existential Depression, to solve the issue of my soul, to solve the riddles which The Teachers whispered to me all those years ago, it was worth the dogged pursuit, it was worth what I gave up. All of it has been worth it.
And so, the feeling at hand is that of the world opening up, but it being a cooperative opening, not the pinata feel I have had when things have gotten good in my life. This is like walking on a path so much that, one day, you see you have made grooves, and where once there was wilderness is now a very clearly defined road.
I know I am not the only one, and hence, the writing, but I know that I am feeling some of this because the grids themselves have changed. There has been a loosening or a shifting, and things are just easier now, it’s easier to think clearly, and somehow, now when I anticipate the outcome of this or that little drama, I feel less ambivalence, knowing how things feel like they’ll play out. That’s a big part to being psychic, I think, if it still can be called that.
But this is different than simple projection of consciousness onto a probability field. This is something different. It is knowing that I am having a hand in whatever is happening, and loving myself enough to love what is in front of me, accept it and learn from it, and do my best to speak clearly, speak from my heart, modulate myself, help others, but still feel intact.
And this opening I sense I think you might also be sensing, because this too is a cooperative thing. We have done this together, and, sure, it might be when we are asleep, and we may be consciously aware of just a little sliver of all of it, but liking this sliver, accepting it and loving it and finding it precious, this has been a big leap, and one we are making cooperatively.
I have heard it said that these years are about support. I have had visions of my books on the bookshelf of my next mom, and I have not one doubt that living in peace and tolerance and celebration of differences, and being surrounded by people who do not engage in shame or tempers or insecure behavior is what is to happen to us as a people, still, when the wolves are howling and things look bleak, it is hard to think that positive thinking is anything but a narcissistic reaction to an appropriate situation in which to hate oneself. I know what we have all done, and I can just now begin to feel that we have broken the back of the monster that used to keep us up all night, afraid to sleep, afraid to pee, afraid to ask for help.
I’ll tell you, to close this little love letter, one thought which I find myself having whether I go looking for it or not, and am always glad to find it has been trotting along with me this whole time. It is that things just never have to get that bad again. Ever.
So, in the spirit of this thought, with good news keeping me awake today, while I should have been napping in preparation for work, I will l tell you more of my new vows.
I made vows a while back, wrote a nice essay about them. But I began to realize today that the vows I took, that I held sacred through so many lifetimes, they were not just vows. I think of my new ones, and I always say, “I am” in front of them, but I had not done with that with the old vows. I tried it on for size, and saw the spines of these four vows snap like twigs.
I had taken the vow of poverty, many times, deeply and with great pride, I might add. But I didn’t realise until this afternoon that I had sort of taken to embodying this, and all, my old vows.
I understood how cellular a sacred vow is, an agreement I made with my soul, one which I took all care in preserving, knowing what was at stake. I am now released from this, my sacred vow of poverty.
I am no longer poor. Instead, I am the Fat Farmer. I have created fields upon fields of abundance, co-created, knowing I am integral in their harvest, and I take the best of it all, and I give freely to all others who want or need nourishment. But I feed myself first. I am a fat farmer.
And this vow of knowing, really really knowing darkness, I also revoke this vow. The vow every poet makes to his muse, the vow every nurse, doctor, clergy person or confessor takes, that of knowing the dark so thoroughly that you can write songs about it that break people’s hearts, I relinquish this. Instead, I am The Love Puzzler.
I will see darkness, and I know darkness, can feel it and can see it, but it is becoming so plain to me as to look comical, a lot of the time, and it no longer is my best friend. I think that I had to bed it and wed it to really get to the place in my soul where I could come to see that it is not mine, it’s not personal, and it is just a function of the reality set up.
There is a breaking through the darkness, and what is waiting for us is love. How rape, abortion, abandonment, betrayal, lying, all these things are part of a puzzle of love, and if you look hard enough, softly enough, benevolently enough, each and every horrific thing that can occur is just loaded with love.
A bursting through has happened for me, and this darkness is just not something I own anymore. It is a traveler, it is something to be aware of, but owning it as mine, wearing it like skin, I just don’t need to, or want to, do that anymore. I am a love puzzler.
And so, this brings me to the third vow, the one I took time and time and time again, that of chastity, of separation and aloneness and feeling like an alien. The agreement I had with my soul that I could just stay apart, that’s how everyone wants it, and it’s how it has to be…
The vow of chastity, that I am chaste, is long gone. I have ample proof that I have lived neither a chaste nor a temperate life, but still, the core of me, when the work had to get done, insisted on feeling all alone. And so, I take instead the vow of the Supreme Hedonist, and I think this is the one I want to focus on tonight, because it feels so damn good.
To not feel worry, to not fear, to be glad, and to have absolutely nothing to pin the gladness on, but there it is, spinning in the middle of the room, broadcasting good cheer, for no reason at all.
I am The Supreme Hedonist, and I may light incense, put on a long youtube of “Om” chanting, take a bath and unwind, so might I pour a finger of whiskey, and ease into that tub with a smoke in my mouth and KBCO playing as loud as my phone can. There are so many ways, as a supreme hedonist, I might spend those hours, but “what” moves into irrelevance as “how” gains prominence, tonight, all days, always..
The part of me who felt a need to elevate things by remembering how dark it is here, oh, those vows are old, and they no longer pertain. Physics itself has realigned to make hedonism a viable lifestyle. And so, I am the supreme hedonist.
And so, to close, I give you my fourth vow.
I thought for a long time that the rules others had for me, their expectations and the way they did things, that they were right and there could be no arguing with such a pushy force. I took the vow of powerlessness, the vow of obedience to others. And I obeyed myself, but really this only happened the last couple of years so blazingly, but this vow of obedience to others, this is what I am breaking to bits now.
I am The Queen, Sovereign. I am sovereign in my reality, no one else. What has to be given up to achieve it? To achieve abundance, I lay down the vow of poverty. To achieve inner balance, I lay down the vow of dark poet, and to achieve pleasure, I had to lay down the vow of chastity. But this one, sovereign, what must I lay down to achieve the embodiment of it?
I think it is blind obedience I must lay down, and questioning everything, including my own thinking, which led me to these particularly warm and fragrant waters. And this is no small thing, relinquishing anything that looked like sense, and going my own way, letting that which is within me, bigger than me, loving me, to lead me home.
When I worked with The Teachers, although we focused a lot of our time on ascension, I never really could bring into my understanding that I was in training for this lifetime. I held it at bay, thinking that it would be in the next lifetime, or some other lifetime, when things were sweeter and people were easier to work with. But no, I was wrong about that.
Ascension is now. It is now. And it can be called all manner of things, I just don’t care about the verbiage, it’s what is being described which is key.
I have heard it said that big souls cannot come into the body all at once, and as a person ages, then, more and more of the soul can come to inhabit the physical form. If a soul were to inhabit a body all at once, it would pop, blink out of existence. And so, when all is said and done, I think of ascension like that.
There is much we cannot yet see, hear, smell, taste, but all of us, or most of us, can feel it, and many can admit to feeling it. There is something else that is guiding all of it. Ascension, for me, is embodying so much of my soul, being able to hold so much of it physically, that even simple physics bends to my consciousness.
Peace, bliss, nirvana, DNA activation, there are lots of names for it. But it is becoming a friend to one’s soul, and letting the amnesia, and the blind spots just be, smiling at the dark and whistling, knowing that when the lights come on, I’ll see that the only thing that ever was there was the dark, no monster, no punishment, no cruel twists of fate. Just the dark.
The lights are on now, and I know I am not the only one feeling this. I know, have evidence to support the knowing, that things never have to get as bad as they were, and that things are steadily, now, in a state of improving.
We are doing this together, all of us, and we, I think, deserve each others’ love and respect. Sure there are levels of growth and maturity, sure, but all of it fades when we, individually and with much thanksgiving, begin to realize it really does begin and end in our own skins, in our own minds, and our thoughts are a vast engine in all of this.
Thinking clearly, seeing things as I now do, has made me feel all better, and I really do hope that you, too, are feeling better, now.
An intimate, friendly, insightful and astoundingly loving video describing the experiences I have most recently had, which I have understood are part of “restructuring” I have recently undergone.