Deeply Awake: Another Level of… Whatever By Kathy Vik 2-13-18


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A bare-bones talk for those who are on the ascension path, for your enjoyment and consideration. I was urged to talk about many, many aspects of this thing our community keeps talking about, “The Event.”

In this multidimensional eclipse gateway, I thought it necessary, somehow, to talk about esoterics, energetics, prophecies and premonitions, many of them revolving around about being flooded with light, or…  whatever.

This is a personal, quantum reality for each, and this is an enjoyable recording for those desiring many observations and interpretations of the energy bombarding us, and that which is to come, from the vantage point of this intrepid spiritual reporter known as Deeply Awake.





Deeply Awake — Daily Life As a Multidimensional Being, or, Applying Ascended Reality To Daily Life 2-4-18 By Kathy Vik

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Holy smokes.

This is a vital recording, with a HUGE anomaly late in the recording, adding emphasis when relaying a soul confirmation … INCREDIBLE!

This is a FULL ON esoteric recording, for the hardcore among us, who need to know what it is like to apply these principles and to see them pay off in daily life.

That’s sort of the point, of going through this process in public. There had to be an end-point, I would think. There’ll come a day when things make a lot more sense, and then, it’ll be an obligation, and a joy, to just describe the view.

This is one such love letter, from a ledge that continues to blink on and off, literally (!!!!!), as I transmit this appreciation, and joy, and hope, and tips, and descriptions right from my being, to you.

Namaste, my brother, my sister.





As referenced:

Deeply Awake — Manifestation Memo 1-29-14 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — Manifestation Memo 1-29-14 By Kathy Vik

Author’s note 1-29-14: I was going to call this thing “Manifestation Manifesto,” but that seemed a little high-and-mighty. Just did the spell check… hope it doesn’t suck.

This has been an odd time for me. I feel like I’m finally off the platform, and glad of it, thinking back on my months waiting on that platform, thinking on how exquisitely painful it was at the time, but now, looking on it from this new side, it was just a platform, it was just waiting,and it’s hard to know why I got my undies in a bunch so much, about all of it, the waiting, the platform, wondering what comes next, while all the while knowing.

So now, I feel like I am in a train car, but the train isn’t moving yet. I know that sometimes you can be moving, while on a train, but have the feeling of steadiness, so I look out the window from time to time, and there’s the platform, empty now, clean, like it was never used.

In this scene, I waited with some people, but through all the months of waiting, we only struck up small conversations. Enough for me to know we were all pretty much doing the same thing, but no real depth.

And now, on this train, in this car, I don’t see any of those folks. I am alone in this car. Early on, I had a vision of being on a train, and I’m in a car where everyone speaks a foreign language. And I have some choices. Be perpetually mad that no one understands me, that’s one choice. Another would be to learn their language. Another would be to come up with a new language when we are together. It was all metaphor for fitting in, for figuring out a way to travel when I can see I can’t be understood, through no fault of anyone’s.

You see, I have had a chance to reminisce recently. It was two years ago on the 25th that I walked away from an insanely lucrative job, having found myself yet again with a target on my back.

In two years’ time, I found myself thinking, on my anniversary. Two years. What is different for me than two years ago?

Well, I guess what I am noticing the most right now is what came up in that train imagery. I realized in the last few days that the very biggest change has been one of being able to like people more.

I mean, it boils down to very few things, in the end. I have realized, at work, recently, that I was, for the most part, a highly judgmental and angry person. No one ever satisfied me, not intellectually, not emotionally, not soulically, and rarely socially. And when I looked into people’s eyes, what I saw was often a threat, or a cry, or a scream, but it was rarely someone who loved freely, who was peering at me.

And I found it curious, that I could put up with so much, I just let people do what they are going to do, really, that, in the end, toward the end of it all, before the lights came up, I had gotten to the point where I really found very little good in anyone around me. I told myself awful things about people, and while I’m sure they might have been accurate, from time to time, that’s really not the point.

I looked upon everything with unloving eyes. I had been hurt. I was tired. I was disappointed, so very disappointed, and had become, I think, a bit of a pessimistic misanthrope.

So the biggest change, for me, the thing that just fires me up and makes me happiest, is that I can now look on anyone, and I mean anyone, and find their creator. I can see their frailties, the things they are most afraid of, and I can feel their integrity, somehow, and I feel awe, real awe, for people, anymore.

Now, I used to feel this, I am sure, but I think we are conditioned to think the only appropriate time and place to feel this is with a lover, privately, this sort of intimacy, but, no, I feel a bond with the people I have met, even those who I may never see again.

I kept seeing, again and again, at work, how everything can look miniscule, or threatening, or innocent, and it’s really all just a matter of perspective. I enjoyed watching this, in many different settings, this theme of perspective, play out.

I saw it being done by folks who would never, probably, give a thought to these esoterics which fascinate me, but they are playing out the themes of their lives, the themes of their hearts, their imaginings of who they are in this moment.

Now, these are deep thoughts to have, I guess, while passing pills, or eating boiled-til-it’s-mushy zucchini, but they were comforting, these thoughts. They helped me to remember that everyone who approached me, everyone I approached, was somebody’s loved one, someone’s kid, someone’s mate, someone’s parent.

It was fun. It made everything breathe easier. There was humor, there was a lot of walking around letting people off their hooks, the hooks of worry and anxiety, “There’s nothing here to be upset about. Nothing here to get angry about. Everything’s fixable. No one is trying to do the job wrong. Let’s figure this out.” Lots of that.

So, the biggest change, I would say, is this interpersonal one, the one which allows me to see people not as the enemy, but as friend. That really does not mean I am some Pollyanna fruitcake out in la-la land, unable to focus.


Quite the opposite.

I am a quick study, highly intuitive, focused, driven, as task-oriented as you please, the one so many delegate to since they know I’ll take it seriously, and then they take all the credit. That happens to me a lot. Happened last time I worked. But really, here’s the thing. I’ve found most bosses delegate and refuse to get their hands dirty because they are afraid of it, because it turns out, they are just not that good at it.

And that fear of doing it wrong, or badly, stops a lot of people, it stops managers from diving in. They don’t want anyone to see they might not be up to scratch. And, really, that’s ok. I see it as a sign of weakness and cowardice, but that tells me this is someone who feels insecure, someone who has little confidence, probably easily bullied, someone with a temper, a sad=sack, a victim, and who knows better than me what it feels like to be bullied. I know all about it.

So I tried to show her ways she can stand up to her bullies, as the day progressed, did that too. I just saw things differently, and even when I was rightfully madder than a wet hen, some cool, calm voice came and talked me out of my crazy.

Some cool, calm voice explained to me that here I am, already being leaned on. See this. Pay attention. Look at the dynamics, look at this group. See what is really going on, and be people’s friend. See people as trying to feel intact, prone to feeling picked on. Try that. And then the calm would come, and the smile too, and I felt so much better, so much brighter.

The past two years have taught me my own energetic signature, as promised, it was delivered, and it was no small task. I had a lot to overcome, psyche-wise, but who of us hasn’t? When you go around questioning things, feeling nit right, and for awhile, for me, all I did was feel angry, well, anymore, I give the more temper=prone among us a lot more empathy, and have stopped painting them as the devil out to rock my boat. I remember being that mad. I still get that mad sometimes, but never for long. The voices come to me now, and they soothe me, and put me straight, now.

I see the last two years as a block, you see, and that is I guess why I used the platform metaphor. I feel like I have accomplished my job, these last two years, done the waking up, the living by the skin of my teeth, hippie thing, writing, working whenever, just letting go, knowing something good is waiting for me on the other side of whatever the hell this turns out to be.

And now, whatever the hell that was has changed, I feel like I’ve been spat out of one of those car washes, all the strum und drang appears to be over, and I am clean, clean, clean. I’m thinking, to always tilt in the direction of benevolence, that whatever is in front of me is a benevolent thing, that helps.

And so, I want to talk about The Secret, and some of what is channeled by people, and what a lot of new age people earn dividends on teaching, this concept of manifestation, getting what you want, all that crap.

I think we have the manifestation thing all wrong, as a group. There’s this idea that if you visualize it, and then put up posters or whatever, that it’ll come to you. Now, this is simple physics, and not at all hard to do.

And, as my friend Diane says, it’s all the same thing anyway, so if you want the perfect seats, ask for them, see them. Sure, visualizing is important, don’t get me wrong, and Diane is a master manifestor, truly artful, but, it goes far deeper than this.

I mean, as Richard Bach describes, you can think of a blue feather, really concentrate on it, feel it, smell it, in your mind, and then, you let it go. And it will come to you. It has to.

You created it. It has meaning for you.

But, then, there’s all this gunk that gets added to the top of manifesting, weighing it down, rule-bound, ritualized, in its thinking and its practice.

You see, I have always had this split life. I have always known myself to be something I am not. I am a practicing nurse. But I know myself as a bestselling author, a scholar, someone well respected in a community of thinkers, scholars, seers, visionaries, seekers, people who are old, wise, grounded.

That’s who I have always been inside.

And on the outside, I am something completely different. And I have had to find a way to merge the two, or at least let them get along instead of snipe at one another, or try to kill each other.

And, on January 25, 2012, I allowed that writer part of me sort of take the helm. I let myself write, found I had no recourse but to write, and found immediate and profoundly positive changes to my quality of life when I continued. And so, I did. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. And the happiest I have ever been was when I was writing fiction, caught up in it, hearing conversations, seeing whole scenes play out. What a gift that was!

And so, then I hear about manifesting what you want, and how to do it, and all this stuff, and I thought, for a really really long time, well, the reason I don’t have what I know to be my birthright is because there is something terribly wrong with me.

So I worked on that, and fixed that. Then it was, well, the reason I am not self-actualized is because of my family dynamics. So I delved into it, and fixed that. Big changes, great changes, all good, in these areas. Then, I decided it was because I wasn’t somehow soulically good enough. So I delved into that and set myself straight on that account. And so, this idea that we can get what we want, I like it, because it involved, for me, some strenuous spiritual weightlifting.

Still, I have not what I feel I deserve, a lifestyle beneath my magnificence, shall we say, and I like this thinking a lot. It takes it out of the realm of shadow theater, hooking into the socio-political logjams of consciousness, the bizarre long con called our economic system, just unplugs the angst brought up regarding income inequality, and just elevates things a bit, to a place where there are very good reasons why I deserve more stability.

That has been my prayer, for my personal new year. Stability. An eight year for me personally, I want to really get to know responsible manifestation, responsible reality construction, conscious co-creation.

So, to an untrained eye, my continued lack of funds, continued underemployment, I’m not noticing it very much. I have what I need, and although there are many things I need which I cannot afford, what I have here with me brings me joy, and there’s more to come. This isn’t forever. It just can’t be.

Manifesting, I was taught, is about conjuring up the experience, everything about it, every sense, but more, a sense within your body, of how you FEEL,  what you’d be thinking, seeing, smelling, knowing, looking forward to, taking for granted, if what is in your heart of hearts, if this great thing were to pass.

How does it FEEL to BE in that hot tub? Are you happy? Are the stars out? How does your body feel, getting pounded by those jets? How does it feel to be in front of a classroom, teaching? What are you wearing? What does it smell like? Is it night or day> Who are these people.

Dive in, all the way.

And if it feels vibrationally complete, really really good, then, sort of fill up on it, and then, realize it must now come into being by being released. Holding onto it will tether it to you and make it go small. Let it go.

And then, you walk the void. That space between conception and birth. And that walk could be twenty years. It could be twenty minutes. That is up to many, many things, some of which, in retrospect, you will be the most thankful for. So let it come when it comes.

I was taught, at this point, to think on the whole thing lovingly, this excursion into probability, and say, like a mother, like a kid, “That or something better.” And you let it go.

I was taught to use the meditation, that seed meditation, to gain strength and inspiration, to grant it validity, sometimes, to find and hold one’s true north, but to always let it go. Walking with it daily is a great burden, and remember, the tether.

Show your courage! Show our faith! Stand and walk as if it is already here. Act and conduct yourself as someone whose deepest desires have already come true, all of them. Live from there emotionally, and don’t get too tripped up on the details, like not having what you want.

Now, this can be a very weird place to hang out, and I don’t do it a lot. I allow myself the luxury before bed, usually. I try to reserve the daytime to getting things done, as much as I can, and taking these voices-in-my-head excursions. And night, I allow myself to imagine that every single problem I have, have ever had, is solved.


The puzzles, done and lacquered. The financial woes, fixed, no debt, no worries, income stream assured, for life. I know this is my natural state, where I belong, where I am headed. And at night, I can play in that garden. I allow myself this luxury when I am driving too. I enjoy long car rides. I can pretend longer.

But, of course, it is not pretending. It is dwelling within and calling to me a vibrational level I enjoy, thoughts and experiences I have enjoyed and will enjoy again.

I don’t know how. And this was always where I missed a step with The Teachers, where they would always need to reign me in a bit. I wanted to know the HOW. I wanted everything. Tell me the how. And they would smile, they would shake their head and say, “The how is up to us, not you.” And it felt like a big hug back then. It really did.

I am beginning to see how this part of it works, and like that the weave that connects us all during the day is the same weave that connects us always, and at night, many of us are working together in surprising ways, setting things up for the following experience, that sort of thing.

So, this means, nothing really happens to me without my permission, and some permissions are deeper and more move-the-story-along than others. Maybe the idea is to be as attuned as we can be to this pipeline home, where we are all connected, and just sort of hang there, even during conversations and arguments, even.

So no, when I think that the “hows” really don’t have to be known by me, I still have to work out a bit of dread, because I really don’t know how some of this stuff is going to be done, given how things currently are, and that’s what I have found has been the final act, the thing that propelled me from the platform into this car.

Just really being ok with everything, just the way it is, remembering in real time, and not in the throes of depression in three days, that I, this consciousness, the one blended and able to say “I,”, I can change anything at all about this, but some things are the way they are because they need to be that way. So just let things ride, but do one new thing a day.

Start mixing it up. One new thing a day. And one thing that just thoroughly pleases and/or delights you. Can be anything. Try those two things. Everything is just fine, everything is in order, fear not.

That’s another one of those voices, and it happens now, as soon as the thought is thought which leads to a sense of dissonance or despair or fear. Just a little voice, a thought, really, but it has a bit of an insertive quality, if I’m not too jangly, and I then feel soothed. More able to cope well with whatever is going on. Reset, I guess.

I have tried vision boards at various times of my life, and being a visual person, seeing things I love sets up nice feelings, but I guess my rant about how it is taught is that focusing on that just isn’t enough, and this is being spoken to someone with very good manifestation skills.

I consider all of it quite purposeful, even the tougher things, and, looking back on all of it, I find it to be elegant, lyrical, poignant, dramatic, a little maudlin, and purposeful. So why not this? Why not this stretch too? So, if you aren’t getting what you want, what you believe you deserve, consider yourself on the platform, or in a train car on a train that hasn’t started moving quite yet.

Maybe it’s not because of your shortcomings, or those of your family, or your socioeconomic status, but just because that’s how you’ve written your story so far. And there are whole chapters people just sort of yawn through, and that’s fine, so maybe it’s no one’s fault, least of all God’s, that you don’t have what you want.

They say that because the universe is so literal, if you declare what you want, you will get it. But, it’s not quite that simple, is it? To be a master manifestor, there comes an ownership, maybe of your own signature, your energetic signature, made manifest, in your body. And knowing that which you are, and that which you come from, how can there be a quarrel, really, with what is in or out of your daily life?

Hasn’t Mother herself taught you that what is needed is always provided, and sometimes the unexpected happens, because you are not alone in this. This is a group production, as well as a highly individual one. It’s ok to sense the connection, and to let things happen as they will, acting from the highest awareness as I can, at any given time, as lovingly and nicely as I can.

It, for me, is no longer time to call out nonsense. I was all for it, for a long time, a militant for a new way, fully convinced that everyone’s duty was to wake up, already. I felt impatience with weakness of character, and I felt disappointed and profoundly fatigued a lot of the time.

I resented stupidity, redundancy, invasive behavior, and was sort of a prickly pear. But I have found a different way, these last two years, the thing that has changed the most. I can look at even the most foul person with softer eyes.

I can like the person without digging the behavior, and I find that I can sometimes quiet things down, and sometimes that’s with asking the simplest of questions. I like the people I see, and they seem to like me. There is nothing here not to like. And I mean no harm. I used to think that “harmless,” was a great title to have. Harmless.

For all my bluster and blow, and I really can decimate someone in conversation, not a great trait, but there it is, I am harmless. I might have to snap a nose a time or two just to get their attention, but never without cause, only when necessary. I’m more of a live and let live person, not quick to jump to conclusions, not quick to judge. Isn’t that funny?

Some of this stuff feels like new upgrades, to be frank. I am grateful for these calming thoughts, when they come. I have learned to trust them, and the feelings they invoke. It makes the most difficult day pleasant, enjoyable, to walk around feeling free.

So, the process which ensued, on that cold day two years ago, has changed me while allowing the me that was always there to finally sort of unfurl, relax on the easy chair, get used to the place. So, although I am sure there are passengers on the car I find myself in, and I am looking forward to talking with them, I’m just now sensing movement, and I’m hoping it’s not a false alarm. I’ve had short trips, false alarms, but somehow this is different. Somehow this feels real, the other times I knew were rehearsal. This feels real.

I’m not sure how much I like the train metaphor, because it lends a sort of trapped movement to something I feel is limitless, but what Kryon says about trains and tracks comes into view now, to close.

He says, we jumped tracks a while back, time sped up, but everything being relative, and you being in a train car and all, most everybody didn’t notice. But the train jumped tracks, is on a different line, timeline, so to speak, now than before the Harmonic Convergence.

They also say that if you want to change your track, consider it on an inverted mobius diagram, where the outer strip will get pulled through to become the inner strip, the inner becoming the outer.

And this strip of track can be colored any color at all. And once the new paint is layed down, the whole track is changed, and you will see things come around again and again, new things, just as before, old things presented again and again, being on this strip. So lay down a new color, a new vibration, a new standard, a new tone. And then, everything will respond.

That’s a far cry from a dream board. And I have nothing against visual cues, I really really don’t, I use them, but there needs to, for maximum effectiveness, be something behind it, something core, and real, and loving, and then, from there, what gets manifested will be from that core. It may not look like the vision board stuff, see? Those are symbols holding the feeling. In three dee land, the symbology will be richer, in real time. Expect the unexpected, right?

So, this to me, gets to the heart of manifestation. Because, acting as if, that is nice to do, and when I am doing it with spiritual things, it works better than with material things. I don’t sweat the material as much as I did, but poverty is a grind.

Acting as if I can see the good in situations, acting as if I have limitless recognition and brotherhood with others, that I can manage.

Holding onto a delusion about how much money is in my wallet, that’s just harder for me.

So, I unplug at night and in my car.

The weight lifts, and I am free from thinking materially.

But I can be free anywhere, now, not that a couple years have passed and I can see people more sweetly, no longer a threat to me, perhaps conniving, perhaps honest, don’t know, that’s on them, but here I am, at your service, happy to help, and completely harmless.

And for once, aren’t you finding, that this is seen as a good trait?

I like liking people. Two years ago, this was nearly impossible, for me to like people, all people, in general, specific people in particular.

I balked at everything, I had a bad attitude, and was sad and tense.

A lot has changed in two years. It’s more than I’d hoped for.

Deeply Awake — Mayhem 12-14-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — Mayhem 12-14-13 By Kathy Vik

Many wonderful things have been happening, and I want to touch on some of it before I get into the mayhem, but I will tell you, I have been troubled by the mayhem here lately.

The 12-12 hurt. It was a weird, weird day. It was all symbology and warriorship. In the morning, I was moved to bitter tears. Now, I know anymore, a part of me does, when I am freaka thrown to knees in extremity anymore, a part of me is always, I can feel, standing over me, smiling, winking, and has an arm draped over me, feeling everything I am feeling, but knowing this pain is indeed purposeful.

I told them what I needed, and I could feel the earth move. I could. It is so. So be it. My only job now is to release attachment to outcome, let it ride, release it, let it come back to me in surprising, easy and humorous ways. That’s my request with them.

Make it so obvious a brain-damaged individual couldn’t argue with it. Make it easy and clear, easy and clear, as my friend says. I agree. I tell myself if it isn’t easy, it’s obviously something I shouldn’t be focusing on. Sometimes the magic works, and sometimes it doesn’t.

Anyhow, at the 12;12, I knew I had to be out on my porch. It was a typical Colorado winter day, sun hotter than blazes, ambient temperature around 40.

I did ceremony. I had a long, out loud talk with the Sun, which had seemed to explode into yellow body light, as soon as I’d closed my eyes.

I did many things I can’t remember. There was a feeling of ceremony and honor, passage and certainty. I knew, that old, ancient knowing, and was in a beautiful flow there on my porch.

I will tell you about a prayer I finally understood, and then we’ll move on a bit. There are miracles to discuss! And mayhem, too.

I only remember the sense of profound thanksgiving I felt, for being on that porch, on that date, at that time. I felt a circle close, and I had a homecoming. I felt honor and happiness, and sort of fell in love with what I am. It’s weird to talk about so openly. I hope you don’t mind.

And the prayer came from that place. A reflexive prayer, as I said it, I could feel myself coming together in new ways. Mind you,I was sober as a judge. I knew there would be no need to alter my awareness, that the energy, and anticipation, and high ceremony would alter me plenty.

I said,I am love, and love is mine. Three times. I am peace, and peace is mine, three times, always three times, each declaration. I understood this was my portal, to define myself in the ways I see fit, finally.

I am God’s and God is mine. This is then where I went, and I was then aware of my encounter with this light, on 5-25-12. You can read about it in “A Special Graduation,” in Deeply Awake. I am God’s, and God is mine. I am God’s and God is mine.

This, for me, is a portal all its own.

It turns out this was the day of conflict, which was weird, being a 3 day. But I had learned the night before that Sam hasn’t been receiving special ed help all this year. I couldn’t believe it. He’s pulled his grades up significantly, which he is very proud of, as am I, and did it without any of the support he’d had all through his schooling. He has Klinfelter’s, and so he has some challenges other kids don’t, but as long as there was support and someone sort of in his corner, I figure, he’ll be fine.

I rang the alarm bells, set up meetings, got advice from experts. I knew, at the end of the day, there was a challenge yet ahead of me, at 7:30 the following morning, to meet with the powers that be and teachers, to find out if it was true, and if so, what do we do about it?

By the end of the evening, after an episode where I was very close to “going away,” but just sort of hung in there through the physical discomfort, Sam and I were sitting on my bed chatting. We’d just made scotcharoos, our favorite Christmas cookie, for his teachers the next day.

I was at peace, feeling serene, finally. I felt so much love and camaraderie and tenderness toward this amazing creature who is my son, and I asked him if it would be ok if I took some cookies to the school for this big meeting? We talked about the issues at hand, and I again asked his forgiveness and expressed my honor for him having gotten through this year in a way that was unnecessarily hard.

He reminds me it’s a school with 1,000 kids. I mention that it might be happening to other kids. And that not one of those teachers gets in their car in the morning, heads to work, and thinks about all the ways they can fail their students, or screw over any of them individually.

He agreed, and it was agreed, cookies were ok. I told him, you know, when people get caught screwing up, it’s a test of their character, and most people just get super defensive and awful. It’s embarrassing.

So if I can put them at their ease, and let them know I value what they are doing, and it’s not a sin, what has happened, just something we need to be aware of and fix, well, then, that would be a pretty good thing. He agreed, and I hoped that he heard that bit about defensiveness, that it’s a mechanism of shame, but who knows if he did or did not. Time will tell on that one.

The meeting itself was just amazing. It started out rough, being chastised by someone who now has her ass in a sling, that I shouldn’t have called the district, and I’d broken a promise. I admitted, yep, I broke the promise, and I shouldn’t have made a promise like that. I had left a voicemail saying that if they got back to me by 10, I wouldn’t call the district. Dumb thing to say.

I’ve worked with Advocacy Denver and the school district’s special educators throughout Sam’s career, when things had turned difficult, which at times they did. And they were such amazing advocates, such peacemakers, and all of them I’ve ever gotten involved to solve problems at school, these guys are a class act, and well respected.

So I found it odd that this lady would be grousing at me, but realized she’d felt understandably messed with. I apologized, but then, I stopped her, at the end of our little chat, and with all the power I could muster, all the courage and precision I felt I had in me, I told her, don’t make me wrong for doing what’s best for this little man.

I am sorry I broke a promise, but it was a good thing to have done, calling as I did, because I got help, and don’t make me wrong for doing everything I can for this kid.

She was recalcitrant, remained belligerent. Pissed off, walking away in a confused huff. Then the principal did his mind game crap, and then I got to sit down with the meat and potatoes. An associate with the district showed up, put everyone at their ease, and we began.

I tell you all of this because it is pertinent to mayhem, honestly, it is.

In the meeting, the teacher didn’t jump me for getting the district involved. It was clear he was unsure about exactly what the forms were and the procedure and the rules, even, but he kept pitching, putting out great ideas. I told them both, we are going to not address his getting bullied, or his gayness today, so please don’t bring it up.

I am now working with the psychologist, who has assured me she’s going to contact the youth director at The Center, and will talk with HRC, so that maybe we can form some sort of alliance for Gay and Lesbian and Transgendered kids. It won’t come from the top, so we’re going to subvert the dominant paradigm from within, baby. I didn’t go into that level of detail, but the point is, this was an academic, and an educator issue, not anything but that. It helped a lot to do that.

And in the end, Sam is going to get about 65 hours of compensatory schooling, to make up for what he didn’t get, and he’ll get the extra time he needs for testing, since that is hard for him, and he’ll get 5 hours a week from someone who gives a damn about his overall progress, and has to answer of its presence or absence in the spring, just like the good old days.

This was a mighty outcome, and one I am very proud of. No one had the dignity scraped up, no one did any shame crap, and everyone acknowledged that there was a failure, a problem, an issue, that they’d fallen down, and there was no shame, no recrimination, and no threats. We got down to brass tacks. We got it done with compassion for all.

I went to work that night and got onto Google News, as I do at work. A 17-year-old had gone into a school with a shotgun. It was my nephew’s old high school. Columbine, Aurora, and now this.

This is mayhem, and it is a critical thing, my friends.

I have worked in environments where I understood, accepted and took precautions against assault, violence, mayhem. I have worked with murderers, some before and some after they’d murdered. I know of what I speak.

I know what it is like walk up to your place of work thinking, knowing, that this could be your last day. If not from a patient, then an armed visitor, an outsider. Maybe it’s a customer, maybe it’s someone you fired.

I heard a gruesome tale of a DON andAdministrator of a nursing home who were walked out of their nursing home and shot execution style in the parking lot, over something that was the last straw, something, none of us knows, you see?

I know it, and it’s a fairly dark way to live. Police officers know of it. They interpret the specter far more darkly than nurses do. And now teachers get to join the ranks of the sitting ducks, the unarmed warriors among us.

And this fills me with a strong sadness, a fatigued, and an increasingly active part of myself puzzling this out, puzzling it out all night, really.

What has become of us?

What is it but an act of enraged futility, to find a shotgun, walk into your school, go looking for the teacher who kicked you out of an extra-curricular club, gun in full view, and then just shooting off a couple rounds, injuring a girl, someone the media says was an innocent bystander.

There are no innocent bystanders.

Maybe I was more mixed up than a lot of kids, sad and deep and misunderstood, maybe, but this act is not in my repertoire. I do not understand it. But I can go there, you see. We all can. And I think it’s time some of us do.

What moves someone to do this? Why is mayhem not just being considered, but being acted out so much anymore?

Funny how Kryon has been with me through these hours. On the 13th, upon awakening, I needed to look at his “Journey Home” book. I went to the scene where Michael has had a hard night. He felt lost, and like everything had gone dark.

So he put on his armor, got his shield and his sword, and went and sat in the room he was receiving lessons from his angel in. he sat through dusk, and fell asleep in the chair. The narrator says, as he slept, Micheal’s armor, shield and sword were humming, and he was physically changing.

In the morning, the angel is there again, and they discuss what happened. Michael had gone through another transformation, moving up an octave, so to speak, and he was adjusting. When this is happening, your support team, out of love, leaves you. And so, the angel asked, what got you through it?

Michael said he focused on his love. He thought about how much love he felt in the angel’s presence, on how much the angel loved him. And this was what made the transformation complete.

He came again to me at work, with the recording from the Global Consciousness Change, or some such, day two.

There is a lot said int here that I think it’s best just to listen to, if interested, but I see how it all correlates, and so I want to discuss it.

The idea is that we are functioning at a certain percentage of DNA, and the DNA functions higher with the more spirit we can hold, that we can physically and in all ways, embody.

He said that the Pleadians’ question to themselves was, how much can we embody and still live? And this is the question the masters know as their true north, and spend their lives finding out.

How high can you go? How much of All That Is can you do?

And then, the other thought that is pertinent to this discussion is this. He says, imagine someone in jail. Imagine this is someone of very low consciousness. {Perhaps he has hurt other people, and perhaps he doesn’t care that he has. Imagine this. There is only 30% of him here.

The rest is on the other side, part of the collective of god. His higher self is right there, and his higher self is saying, “I see your light. Keep going! Keep going!” He says, to close his talk, he reminds all of us what it is like to come into the planet with our awareness of our grandness stripped away, lonely, alone, feeling abandoned, and always, there is a longing. Always such a longing. And a loneliness, for that which has been voluntarily shed, our divinity, our connection with god, our multiplicity and timelessness.

Can you look into his eyes with tolerance? Can you remember, and can you demonstrate to him that you understand?

I remembered then my mentor, Marge. It used to really confound me, puzzle me, and I asked her about it, how is it that you can find something good in everyone you meet? Everyone loves you because you love them, and I have no idea how you do that/ Some of these people are god-awful.

She was no pushover, let it be said. This is not a passive love, dear friends, this is as full-on warrior state as one can get. But the battle armor is not for defending. It is for illuminating, for seeing worth, for loving.

Can you do it?

That is the question.

I wonder about kids, and others, doing these acts of mayhem. You and I both know that if there wasn’t a gun owner in their awareness, they would have no access. So it establishes that there is someone who is feeling powerless and afraid. Try as I might, I can see guns as nothing but metal reminders of a person’s fear. And so, with a projectile weapon, an impersonal and lethal one, someone goes out and does mayhem.


I drove home talking out loud about it. It’s been bugging me.

I see it as the ultimate act of alienation. A desperately twisted and perverted cry for help, one that ends in explosions instead of a good cry.

A demonstration of a person’s belief in their alienation and a dual message of see, this is how powerful I am, with an equal cry of oh my god, I have no other way of exerting my power than this.

Please understand that I believe that all such acts are committed by angels, and they are doing these acts to assist us in many many ways. We are rethinking the very appropriateness of such fear stances, you know.

We are deciding, as a group, how we are going to go forward as a people.

I understand taking a defensive posture when being attacked. It makes sense. It is how we were trained, and seems to be the biological imperative, but I think there is a way to fix this whole mess.

I know that the times in my life when it changed, and when I was changed, really changed for the better, it was when someone saw within me someone who was worth being nice to, even when I was totally screwing up.

When someone reached into my confusion and pain, and they were kind. They gave me, usually, what no one else could have, and they didn’t have to. One time it was with a boss. Many times with co-workers, and it can be big or little, this sort of act. This morning, after work, it was having two sweet nurses scrape off my icy car, without me asking them to.


But there have been big times, huge sort of milestones, and when things could have gone either way, but ended with someone being kind to me, this changes things.

When someone is pointing a loaded gun at you, it is perhaps past time to show it, but even then, I am not quite so sure it would be wrong to do, even in that situation.

And this looking into a hateful, spiteful, scared person’s eyes, maybe even someone who has betrayed or manipulated or tried to hurt you, looking into their eyes and seeing that they are not even all here, they are not even aware of what we know… it changes things, it should change things, and I think it will.

I like what Kryon said, being able to see someone as an emanation of their higher self, cut off, not knowing about their support and their worth, this doesn’t make you better than anybody else. It makes you better informed.

There is no need to act this way, and there is no need to receive any of it gracefully. Some people who are able to, don’t. We all have off days. But, to remember, with EVERYONE, the troubled and the content alike, too meet everyone understanding that they might be lonely, they might feel abandoned or alienated, and it might be based in fact, and it might appear as if it is not, this is something that will lead to peace on earth.

This comes not from shutting ourselves away from these difficult discussions, but being open and honest about what is going on.

I think that the energy is such that many of us in this community are reacting so favorably. We are, some of us, getting very psychedelic, and I do believe the time of manifestation is upon us.

The juice will get cranked up come the solstice. I think we are in amazing energy, but I think it is not perhaps as well received by some. There are those in great imbalance, there are those in difficult, untenable lesson, and there are those who are here to assist us in ways we cannot understand fully when thinking with our heads. But with our hearts, we know that the ones who snap are sort of hard to ignore at this point.

I’d rather not die violently, and by surprise, and over something dumb, but if it were to happen, that’d be ok too. It moves the game piece a little further along, and these sorts of deaths are also instructive, messaged. All deaths have messages, but the ones that crash into a nation’s psyched, like Sandy Hook, and a year later, Arapahoe, well, how long do we ignore talking about it?

And how long, as a community do we decide to gloss over the MSN? I think it is macabre the way the coverage went on this thing. In the morning, at work, the TV was on, and it was hard to escape thinking about this recent shooting. It was all emotion, getting emotional reactions, getting the details. I think it’s perverse, what TV journalism has become, but that’s just because I want someone to discuss these issues as I am, I guess.

I am aware that I am preaching to the choir, and I hope you will not find me a show off for pointing out these obvious things. We know that love is the answer. We know that we are never alone, that we are part of a collective of benevolence, and that all is in a divine web of love, but, good god, how do you translate it into such mayhem, right?

And this is where our angels come in, to whisper into our ears and into our hearts, it begins and it ends with loving everyone in our reality, us first, and most profoundly, the fount of the love, the geyser re-established, bursting with recognition of the miracles we indeed are. Being so connected without souls, we hear them whisper to us as we pay bills, do mundane tasks, answer the phone, problem solve with others.

Can it be that love is the answer? Is it this simple? No need to recite philosophy, to discuss all the far-out things that make my heart glad and remind me of home. In hand to hand combat, with those who would turn away if you told them what it is you’re aware of, can you just radiate it? High regard, acceptance, permission, tolerance?

I think this is the balm, and the cure. I know it is the only thing I want, to always be in that space of high regard, for myself and for others. I know I fall down a lot, and I know I am still sort of hard on myself.

The Love Puzzler, I think of this vow I have taken, to always be looking for the love, in every puzzle, and I do my best. How much, the voices ask, can you embody? How high a perspective do you want? Are you willing to see the love, where it appears none exists, none at all?

I am, and, after this 12-12, my guess is there are others who are too.

We cannot rid this world of all mayhem at the moment. The best we can do is hold light in the dark, shining for others the great love we have found, a love with is our privilege to embody and give away and accept when given to us.

Before I began this essay, I listened to Maroon 5’s Harder To Breathe, and if I can swing it, I’ll include the link below. It’s a fantastic song. It’s how I have felt so many times, and it is a song, I guess, of defiance in the face of alienation. At least that’s how I’m taking it. One of supplication and power. Is there anyone out there, cos it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.

I want to be someone who, if I encounter someone, will not have any anger or pain from our encounter. Someone who will feel honored and listened to. Someone who feels special, because everyone is, everyone is.

So I end in a surprising way, surprising to me, anyhow. It used to bug me to no end that no one recognized me, and by that I mean, there was so little kindness around me. So little, I thought. And I spent most of my life feeling like a misfit.

On the way home from work, I was reminded of a realization I’d had while getting ready for work. Sure, I have been awkward, but the truth is, I haven’t had a real awkward encounter for a long time. I have had conflict, don’t get me wrong, I have, but not that awful feeling of being The Other. Not for a long time.

I realized, turning onto the I-225 ramp, I had so many years of it, I think sometimes I still think it’s pertinent, but it isn’t, this sense of awkwardness or not fitting in. It is a phantom, an old tape, and it is well past time to stop it once and for all.

The truth is, I really do love myself, and my god, and my fellow travelers. A lot. And I find that folks sometimes shy away, but it’s now, I think, because they are not maybe used to being automatically loved. And I do just automatically love people. Some disengage immediately. Some think I am flirting, evidently. And some bloom. Most bloom.

But it is not a love that goes unnoticed, and please, this is the whole point, please hear me when I say this.

It matters. It matters how we treat one another. It matters to see everyone, regardless of their spiritual acumen or knowledge of esoterica, or their own worth, it is important to love them.

Please just love me. Please hear me. Please recognize me. See me as unique. Understand I have faced difficulty and overcome it, see that I have suffered, and see that I am here, now, in your awareness, on this day, for a reason that maybe makes sense, and maybe seems random, but here I am. Love me. Tell me something good., with words, but, better, with what you can do for me that no one else can. See me whole. Love me. Love me. Love me.

Is there anything else that people are saying, when they are their meanest, and their most dangerous.

I know there are the lost ones, those still stealing, still making unjust laws, still militarizing the police force, still defending, defending, defending, and there is no talking sense into some of them. Just look that gun owners. SO defensive about their need to be armed, such bullies.

They need, too, to be seen, but pointing out their fear doesn’t seem to do much good. And so, it is acted out, for all to see. This is what fear does, alienation, panic, powerlessness. End results, on a scale that is boggling, the finality and brutality of some of this mayhem.

The time of believing we don’t have a right to love is over. It is well past time to love, and to be open in our regard for others. To soothe them, and sometimes that means being very clever indeed! Seeing past the bad behavior and seeing the person whole.

I want to see an end to this mayhem. I want to see us calm down as a species. But I have a feeling this next part might be what some of the training was for. To speak our minds and say radical things, like, gee, a lot of these shootings happen at kids’ schools.

Might this be a symptom of how alienated and not seen and powerless some kids feel in that environment? Not to victimize the victim, so to speak, but come on, we are failing these kids.

As grown-ups, at home and at school, we are failing them. I know the troubles we have had, and I know we are not isolated. The heart, the soul, is missing from education, from news outlets, from our interactions sometimes.

Maybe we are enough, those of us who can forgive, who can get past the nonsense and see people whole. And it’s no longer time to think of myself, ourselves, as weird.

We are here to hold the light, to help the others to see that love is the answer, self-acceptance is a joyful duty, and holding others in high regard isn’t weird at all. It’s the next step in evolution.

And it is,

I can’t help but think, and hope, it’s the cure for all of this mayhem.

Deeply Awake — Spiritual Surcease 1-19-18 By Kathy Vik

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An easygoing, understandable and joyous discussion of changes, of improvements, of energetic evolution and ascension-in-action.

It seems a swell of energy has been overcome, a sensation and knowing that I am seeing reflected in the blogosphere, and this is my heartfelt discussion of these energetic realities.

A song which celebrates change, and paints beautiful images which speak of self-empowerment, self-worth, and the benevolent outcomes I am now witnessing in my life and the lives of those around me. I sincerely hope you too are enjoying these fascinating times.

We are all simply learning new skills riding the waves. Some of us are new to it, some have been wave-riding for a while, but we must never forget that this energy is new for ALL who are incarnate now, so it’s a new experience for all, these waves.

Further, let’s remember that an adept is an adept, regardless of age, circumstance or even native desire. It may start surprising some, this new information and experience.

It matters not where you are, or think you are, on your spiritual path. If you have some time, someone who loves to talk about spiritual things in a fresh way wants to bend your ear about ascension. She hopes you enjoy these times, and this video, as much as she is.




Deeply Awake — Just A Weather Report 8-15-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — Just A Weather Report 8-15-13 By Kathy Vik

This has been a good few days. Highs and lows, certainly, but no sharply angular or perplexingly unsolvable things in my awareness.

I had a big hit of something yesterday, some sort of light blast… I did the only thing I could, given how I felt, I slept.  For 16 hours. When got up just weak as a kitten. I took a shower and agreed that the water was somehow resetting me electromagnetically, chemically, washing me clean. I talked to the loving filaments in the water who are there to love and hydrate and express, and it really did help a lot.

I also asked my ascension support group for help. I asked those who were willing to send me light, and explained the situation (I felt crappy and had to work a twelve hour night shift in a couple hours.) I know that I was lovingly supported in light by my friends, and thought of their love through the night. It helped. I felt pretty good.

I think that I have realized that I have functioned at work largely out of fear. It is a profession which is rife with guilt and paternalism and blame and secrecy and mock transparency and pretty judgmental behavior, at times.

On the other hand, it’s one of the few professions, this sort of work, as is massage and dental and all sorts of healers, the idea is, the clearer, the more objectively benevolent you can be, the more people you help and the less people you hurt.

It makes sense, and you can always tell when someone finally has learned this. They do not hold judgment, they speak with compassion and tenderness, but with an authority that cannot be denied. They are trustworthy, they command respect, and they are people everyone feels good around, everyone likes.

I have met such people, and I have worked closely with them. I have had them as patients, as subordinates, but usually, that level of clarity I have only seen in physicians. You can see it a mile off. They are deep, but accessible. Certain, but without ego. They are healers. I have met them.

I know that if I can recognize something on the outside that is that sublime, it only means that I am capable of that depth my own self.

And this has been the window of clarity I have now stepped through.

Isn’t this the whole point of being here, after all, deciding you are alone and abandoned, unloved and insignificant in all the world, with a punitive Father God always bringing you down, driving you to do things no one who feels good about themselves would ever do… there’s that route, and lots of people take varying levels of it.

And this is how the window frame was constructed. Being given such great guidance and help along the way, and then I took off the training wheels, and I will tell you, I have always had a secret hatred of the Apostle Peter.

I didn’t ever like the man, Peter, as he was presented in the bible. I thought that his doubt was so stupid, so arrogant, so harmful, so cowardly, so ugly, just so sad.  His story really affected me. They all did, but Peter, I never liked him. How can he be in the midst of a christed one, a master, a teacher, and hold such doubt? How can it, and why should it, ever be forgiven, rebuking his teacher’s name?

You can see how visceral my response is, was, toward Peter. I would often wonder, why did he make those decisions of his? Was it really, after all that training, a simple fear of death?

Seemed to me that his slot could have been filled with someone who was smarter. That’s how I read it, way back when.

On the way home from work this morning, I was thinking about just what a doubter I was, these last 20 years, give or take.

I had the benefit of great intuition, a keen intellect, amazing mentors, excellent teachers, and then, it’s as if I just plunged headlong into physical life, family life, getting further and further away from my core, voluntarily, willingly, no victim here.

And now, I look back on this, and I feel like I am waking up from a particularly nasty dream, but there is no real emotional pain or dissonance within, now, when I look back on my path.

I believe I set it up this way so that my faith, my knowledge, could be rock solid, as certain and sturdy and immovable as a Sequoia. I needed to GET IT.

And isn’t that the test, after all? Are you going to believe that there is no magic, nothing holding this all together, as sad and odd as that thought is to me, I do know that many hold these thoughts. I have never, honestly, believed the lie that I was alone, but if you read my work you will see the degree of distress inherent in doubting what you know in your gut.

And so, I think it is time to admit that the stuff that I react strongly to, like the accounts of the doubter of old, it only sticks in my craw because I am holding that energy. Duh.

And this window that I daintily crawled out of, through, this afternoon, is simply that, I believe this to a degree which is allowing me to very simply see that every single person on earth has got to figure out this stuff on their own. And if someone is interested, they snoop around and push on doors and meet people, and things begin to open up.

It is synchronicity. It is trust. It is busting fear in the chops, doing that which terrifies, but just dropping the tinge of fear and let the butterflies of anticipation, of exhilaration, the exhilaration that comes with walking right, square into the unknown with joy and trust, let that take over, and everything sort of blossoms.

So, on the backside of this window is a person who needs a lot, just a ton, o validation, so much so that she walks around constantly angry she is not full. And on this side of that window, so lovingly and gradually constructed, is a person who delights in humor, in ease, in peace, in as compassionate of action as I can summon at any given time.

I have met a new friend, and it is the way, when in company, to see the differences each person has with how they approach the standard conundrums of life. It is fascinating to me.

As we talked, into the evening, I saw myself, several times, sort of outside of myself, or contained within something bigger. I saw my reactions to things, and I heard what I was saying. And I was so polite, just have this fallback position of being gentle, and it was really nice to finally get a gander at it.

I think that I have so not valued myself, and I wish I really understood why it is that I wrestled so strenuously with self-worth, and with doubt, and with the nonsense that passes for depth of understanding at times, but I don’t know that, and I am thinking, now, that maybe it just doesn’t matter all that much. It doesn’t matter.

It was a device, a device to get me here. And I did it to and for and with myself, and with so much support and loving action. My goodness, the love that has always surrounded me. Oh my goodness.

And so, I like this story most of all. An older lady who is very comfortable with herself and what she thinks her god is, and she walks around really doing her utmost to show compassion, just that core love, to all, herself first and foremost.

But without compassion toward those I share my walk with, what fun is that? How much wisdom do I demonstrate if I cannot find peace among anybody? I guess that has been a bit of my shame, that I have not, did not, sustain that sort of love, and oh, the recriminations I used to give myself, oh I was so not nice toward myself, parsing every conversation, mining every interaction for wrongdoing, for potential harm to other. Good Christ, how did I stay sane???
But see, for me, my search is at its end. My life is just beginning, but my awakening is at its end. I know this, and I am glad for it, because it was arduous.

And I can honestly say to you now that I think this writing is appropriate and wondrous and meaningful. It is not linear. It is packed with stories and adventure, but it is not linear, and that is just fine with me. I love what I do, and I am very interested to see how it will change now.

I know changes are forever afoot, and there is nothing that will cross my path that I have not put there. It’s mine, so I first love it, and then experience it, learn whatever I can from it, but mostly, now, for me, it is about loving. I am on the look out for opportunities to help, to be kind, to go out of my way, not in a cloying or ingratiating spirit, but in a full knowledge that I can help when someone is in need, and it may be that they are just in need of a joke, or maybe they are in need of being irritated, since some people respond in that way, and in many ways I find incomprehensible, really, but I’m not out to do anything but connect, to give off a warmth that need not be spoken, not really.

I know that this can be called many things, and I know that there are many classifications and classes and theories and names. I know what I call it, or used to.

I guess I will end by saying that I know that I am unusual, in that I decided to do this early. I am part of a group who decided to come into density and awaken with a bang, early, ahead of schedule. We are here to sort of ride that first swell, the first wave of a tsunami, but really, that is not a good metaphor.

I think of us as those who really enjoy field work, and are not averse to cutting a path deep into wild jungles full of terrifying stuff. We know there are risks, but the risks really are metaphoric, not actual, and they just add texture and depth to character, after all.

We of the first wave, those who decided to come in and wake up in a group, we are doing it now, you know? It’s all over the web. It is just so obvious. There are so many people expressing interest in things that are unseen, un-considered, until just recently.

It is a miracle, and it is a blessing, and it is a blessed confirmation to a life lived to these standards, to these truths, with I took as truth a long time ago, and have felt bad and weird and dumb for holding, until now.

I am proud, I can say now, for my dedication to this endeavor. I am proud to have taken myself seriously enough to trust what the “voices in my head,” really, my whole being, has told me to do, at any given time, any given time at all. I learned how to dwell in synchronicity a while back, and then the well went dry for me, and I am here to tell you now that I think it’s just a real nice combo, the Earth supporting all of us rock stars, the Heavens pouring energy into us, and us, being able and willing to remember, finally, that we have been doing this gig for quite a while, some of us, and it is such a relief to finally just breathe again.

I just feel like I can breathe.

I think it is fine to be wherever anyone is. Sure, I am proud of my trek, but I am fascinated, just fascinated, by yours. I want to know all about it, all the twists and turns, all the times synchronicity just knocked you off your feet and made you a believer.

These things matter. They are real, and they, for me, allow me to feel like I am alive. I cannot be here just to go to a job, or just to raise a child, although neither of those should be predicated with a “just.” Both are important feats, all by themselves, but see, without being connected to All That Is, without feeling like I am in my core all the time, invulnerable because I am in love, well, it’s just how I like to play it.

Everybody has their own level of comfort, their own history and their own path. I am not here to tell anyone how to do their life. That is not something that usually ends well anyway. And, since this seems to just get more unbelievably sweet with each passing day, I am really cool with having lost out on opportunities to be kind, to show understanding, encouragement, acceptance. But the days to self-doubt, recrimination and rumination are far behind.

What lies before me is anyone’s guess. I think it is best to leave predictions outside the door, because I can feel certain potentials sidling up, there is great synchronicity and humor afoot.

So, I said I’d end, and then I went on and on, but I mean it now. Here goes.

During my times of holding in full consciousness the idea that I can have, be, do anything, anything at all, and sometimes I imagine I’ve won the lottery, I think on the things, just the material stuff, that would be great. And I have lately been imagining a sea green Mini Cooper with a racing stripe.

While my dad was in the hospital for heart surgery and I was out at his house tending to his aging and confused girlfriend, the image came to me again and again. We started playing a little game while out at Roxborough, my son and I. We would think on it, in a moment of calm and peace, and then say out loud the things we know are around us, as we are living “Our Perfect Life.”

There is so much more than a car that we know to be ours, in our perfect life, but there definitely is a sweet ride parked outside our house.

Last night, on the way to work, driving east on 17th, heading into downtown Denver, what should pull into the left lane, eight or ten blocks back?

A sea green Mini Cooper with a racing stripe.

I laughed out loud and I got tingly. And then I watched it, and I listened.

I was told a number of things, but the gist is that my “alternate reality,” all these things and accomplishments, all these things that make up my imaginings of a different, a bigger, a freer and happier and lighter life, this new life I am courting, well, it is here.

It is here. It is in your sights. It is physically here.

The car did not change relative speed to mine, and so it never sped up, and I did not lose it, all the way to work.

That told me that it’s best to be content with the fact that my highest desires, the most benevolent outcome to all, is upon me, and so, showing the patience this auspicious harbinger calls for is not only appropriate, it is the only respectful thing to do.

Just be grateful. It is here. Just be steady. It is here.

I smiled as I thought about that car, through the night, a night that was so incredibly busy that first it was 7pm, and then it was 5am. It just flew, which I am truly grateful for, and I no longer hold resentment for my being in the situation I am in. it is fluid, plastic, and it is changing.

That’s the weather report for this day. I am clear, and getting clearer. I am peaceful, and I am certain that my highest aspiration, that of being a living breathing example of loving goodness, someone who is connected to a bigness of spirit, like those physicians I have worked with, my old mentor Marge, these are folks who keep the spark lit for all of us.

I want to also know, embody, and give away that spark, just lifting myself up past the stories which constrict and blame and torture, up to a place, up in these clouds, out past this window we, each of us have in our psyches, where there can be no blame, no shame, no fear, no heaviness.

A place where I see you, and like what I see. I really , really do. I think this is a good place to be.

I can imagine thinking such thoughts behind the wheel of a sea green Mini Cooper with a racing stripe.

I really can.