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 — The Cure For My Existential Depression 1-18-14 By Kathy Vik



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I had an extraordinary day with my sister, and at the end of it, we were talking about kids, and ourselves and stuff, and I mentioned an article I read recently on Existential depression, and that it’s I think what a lot of people are grappling with, kids and adults, all in their own way, but some more acutely than others.

As I read it, I thought, well, good god, I could have just posted this on my facebook feed everyday for the last however long it was when it was the worst, and now things are adding up for me, but, this is so ME. Ugh. It felt good, just like it feels good anytime anyone else peeks out at you and says, “Hey, over here! I’m the EXACT SAME WAY! Isn’t that weird?!”

And like when I read my astrology chart, the long version, and the Human design thing, just BAM, there you go, and there I am, staring up at myself form the page, very objective, some of it very compassionate, and all of it feeling like more and more pieces fall into place.

Answers showing up in perfect synchronicity, and the trust remains absolute, always absolute. I am not moving counter anything. I am on purpose now. And how does one get from being in the dumps, and just on fire with despair all the time, to here, where things are, at the worst, bearable?

For me, it came down to quantum physics. Understanding just how valid my baseline experience has been has been freeing, in and of itself. Knowing there are others just as thirsty for the most vivid, accurate, true, and pure understandings about how things were, what is going on now, and where we are headed.

I had a bit of a vision yesterday. I imagined, and keep having dreams, about being in the audience of a live play. And this meditation it felt like the lights were not completely out. I kept seeing movement and candlelight backstage, and could hear “shh’s” and footsteps. And I get the feeling of anticipation.

And then, I fancy, that each of us secretly knows that this act is special, for everyone in the audience has a speaking part, and has time on the stage, but no one knows when, and so we are alert to the play at hand, and its pertinence to us, and when things feel right, we move, act, go do.

What I got the most about the backstage people is that they were all very gleeful, and it felt like a fun family theatre thing. In the audience it feels like a live or die situation, but in back, it’s friendly and all done in love.

Just for love, all kinds of it. And all they’ve been doing is lining things up for our time onstage, specific things to us, that we will recognize, but everything is intricately and cooperatively all lined up, and everyone is there to support us, and it’s all just for good fun, anyway.

Now, I am not sure if that means anything, and am inclined to think it doesn’t, but I suppose it’s interesting to think about.

I guess I mention it because, to me, the quantum part of reality is just as real as the linear kind. I have been straddling for a long time. I had two years of it, with The Teachers, I guess maybe to limber me up and give me some for the desert years, as I call them, but here it is again. And it never left, although sometimes the only place I knew to go for it was in poetry and crop circles. Both really helped, just so much.

But the thing is, we are awash in an electromagnetic, biochemical, flesh and blood. We are more than we appear. There is an energy that is as yet unseen in which we are awash, a great blending of the grids of the earth, our own grids, our own magnetic properties, with the pull of the planets encircling us. We are all entangled, and this is a real thing, not some made up science fiction.

The thing is, as we solve these problems of existential depression, a condition all First Wave of Volunteers, as Dolores Cannon calls us, as we solve these problems, we are able to transmute it into such radiance. Once the paradoxes are revealed, and it becomes obvious that the only explanation is that we all know each other, we are all acquainted with one another and are acting by agreement, at a certain level, once that level becomes more and more real, then things can truly be seen just a little more kindly, and there can be compassion for those who are not very nice.

Compassion is beginning to mean different things to me. I remember the story Bashar tells of a human who witnesses a butterfly struggling out if its cocoon, and the human peels away the casing, and the butterfly falls to the ground. It looks up at the human and says, hey, why did you do that?

And the human says, Well, you were struggling and suffering, so I wanted to ease your pain. And the butterfly says, well, I was in no danger. You see, I needed to struggle up against the casing so that my wings come in right.

Now, my friend, I shall never fly. And the human feels contrite and learns a valuable lesson in letting people have their drama, but, really, it’s not yours, so you can just sort of pass when they ask you to spin with them. I mean, it takes having your thinking cap on, and being able to see things for what they are, but in some sort of good humor. Sometimes I do well, and sometimes I fail, but I try.

Letting love be the punch line, letting love be the narrative, even when things look bad, and just remembering that we are all entangled with one another, there is a web that is unseen, interconnecting us all. It doesn’t mean you owe anything to anybody, in fact, it makes every single human being an equal, a peer. And there are some behaviors, in this state, which are truly unkind, untenable, unjust, and behaviors more befitting grown ups, and as we do this in our daily lives, we will expect it in our politicians, in our mechanics, in our teachers and doctors and nurses.

This is the first wave switching on, I think. And what The Teachers told me about this stuff is that the first wavers were the rebels, the weird ones, just really not fitting in, or fitting in well but feeling like they weren’t, you know, that existential stuff, and then, they begin to come into alignment, and they begin the ascension process (DNA activation, I think), then a critical mass is reached.

You have heard about the experiment done on monkeys in an isolated part of an island group? Same breed of monkeys, but loving in isolated groups, spread over several islands, is my understanding. So the scientists taught one little group of monkeys how to dig for fish with a clam or something like that, and then, the scientists observed how this method, never used by any of the monkeys anywhere before its artificial initiation, and then, suddenly, all the monkeys on all the islands were doing it.

You get the drift, though, even though I might not be telling it just right. I think it was Rupert Sheldrake’s work in The New Science of Life. That book made me swoon when I read it in the 80′s.

And so, I think this is what’s happening. Our DNA has been activated, and some of us have turned right in, grateful to finally hear the broadcast from home, and others can just feels something’s different, but there are enough of us now who have tuned in. And I can feel the resonance, now, I think that is what’s going on. Just a cohesion, I guess, a solidity to the energy I had not felt before.

I’m still very much a mind-over-matter girl, but the advances being made in quantum biology and quantum chemistry are bogglingly familiar, so simple, so true, and the way of it is going to be a lot of relief, I think, for a lot of us, the weirder things get for others, the more and more sense they’re going to make to us, because there is a different perspective gained once you’ve done battle with the things that wore you down, the thinking that always needed in futility and pessimism. There really is no room for it, I mean, it’s beautiful and poignant, but I am feeling more and more that the time has come to celebrate things a bit more.

Last night in kirtan, I did what makes me the very happiest, I opened up my brain and just had amazing experiences, all with my eyes closed, chanting away. But, oh the places I went, the things I did. And it was there, during a Hare Ram, when I felt all my friends, the ones who have held me up when my enthusiasm lagged, the ones who reminded me I have worth in the here and now, not off in my head somewhere, but here and now, and then, starting to think of myself as a blessing to others, and to myself, and that I might really be worth something after all, and maybe I really wasn’t crazy after all, and maybe it was ok to write about all of this, and maybe it even has value, well then, things start feeling very good then.

But from there, there is so much more. Last night, I thought, let’s get to the heart of it, after running canary yellow light, and deep indigo, song by song, and having vision of giving birth to planets, well then, I thought, what’s the point to all this light show? Who am I helping. It’s pretty, and I know it helps, but, what’s the point?

And then, I felt it. It was a love so strong and pure, it’s a state I love to reach, and cherish when I can. A state where I am just thoroughly and utterly in love with the love of God. It am just in so much love, so much love, so much love, and it’s, well, there are few words, none really, but it’s a healing place. And from there, I could feel the whole grid light up. The energetics got really advanced, and pretty. I just saw them do more.

And then, winding down, I could feel “my team,” I guess, the ones who have come to me before, but this time they were much more defined, and later I got that they were looking forward to bumping into me soon, like I could expect them to enter my life now, somehow. They told me that I had changed, not them, and it’s true that the energy itself has changed, made this possible. It’s an upgrade, so to speak.

I think what I want to recall now, for you see there were many things I learned last night, the thing to end with has to do with how to break the back of this existential depression. It is in the understanding of the holy and deliberately loving we are to each other on the other side, and that all of it can change in a heartbeat, and that waiting is part of the package, but so is stalling, so it takes balance and intuition and faith to “do as you’re told,” by the voices in your head, or “what my heart told me to do,” or whatever.

It can be dressed way down, and just sold on the merits of living an honest, thoughtful, earnest life. And it can become high art and science, if one decides to take an esoteric bent. But the truth of the matter is, I have, with my whole body, experienced what I know to have been the heartbeat of the cosmos, that Christmas Eve.

Golden light, everything is made out of, literally made out of benevolence, and there is so much love, but we have forgotten how much we love each other, and some of them who act harsh are doing as we have asked them to, and they can stop now, and on and on it went, that night a year ago.

So, I know, just feel it in my core, that there are others like me, who have had these ongoing weirdnesses, and who know of the extreme changes, but all at the same time an amazing quality of just remembering, just piecing things together, and when I’m in kirtan, really just becoming the light, finally, and running pure and strong, just white light, then it came to me, two thoughts, simultaneously. I’ll discuss them and then sign off.

One is that there is a physical slice, or place that is from the creator, a physical part of us, that germ the first manifestation of life in utero, there is a place physically within us that is this source energy, divinity, whatever you want to call it. And, I understood, that this is what is meant, in part, by “As within, so without.”

There is a field of divinity, beyond perfection, because that intimates failure, no, this is a field of love, of honor, of home. And this is our DNA, this is the merkahbah, this is our akash, our innate, our soup of energy, our energetic signature. As it clarifies, it can get high enough that instead of creating a disturbance in the field, as a lot of us used to, the field itself has risen in frequency, and we are matching it, and it is more in lone with creative source energy, and so our DNA responds, our whole beings shift.

And, see, not everyone signed up for it, not everyone is interested, and they’re going to have other interests. We can agree it’ll be dramatic and all the rest, and it’s fine to participate in it, but not enough to get you believing that there is no hope for the lot of us. It can look grim, from time to time.

Never forget, I hear The Teachers say, that’s what happens when the lights come up. You get a look at just how bad things were allowed to get. They told me, twenty years ago, that it was a fiction to think there was freedom in America, and it was sort of an irony, because the restrictions were already vast, and only going to get more obvious. It’ll look melodramatic, at a certain point, they’d say. But these exaggerations are necessary, and indicate a quickening of consciousness, I think.

The morphic resonance demonstrated in those clever monkeys is the same sort of field we share. And that brings me to my last point.

I understood last night, in the final songs of the evening, what it means to be a generator.

I know that’s what I enjoy doing, and I know I am good at it, and I have irrefutable evidence in my life that it is valid, but what does it mean? I asked.

It was then that I could feel it. I felt my energy, and could feel that connection I feel to the earth, but then I realize I’m connected, upward, and outward, and to things I still can’t see too clearly, but can feel, and I could feel the light just surge through me. I could remember, once again, the meditation I had with jesus, who showed me how, for a very long time, people have been running their light through others, and through things, circumstances, even, rather than just standing tall and straight and running one’s own light, and then giving from the heart.

This is, to me, what it means to be a generator, someone who can just run it, just pump it through, and ask all her friends to come join her, and create their own light, and then dance with me.

That’s the thing. A generator can generate her how light. She does not need to run her light through anyone or anything to get a glow, and it’s cramped and dark in that position. And it’s not just a female thing, it’s a balance. I think a lot of this masculine energy needs a real big dose of humility, of just being caught really really red-handed, and it just sort of slinks off of its own accord, but I hear it may not be quite as smooth as all that.

But I kept getting in kirtan, as I did when I got that first hit of whatever this is, that this is the time of concrete, in your hands, change your life sort of gifts. Be open, be willing, be ready, and receive. This is real. This is real. Expect miracles. Expect good things, as Kryon now says. Expect good things.

I have told “them” that I want 2014 to my year of gifts. I want to get gifts, and so far, I have not been disappointed. I had to work really hard on some of the wrapping, but I am doing ok, I think.

There’s a legitimacy, a sense of support, of finally being tolerated, and it’s, I’m sure, quite cooperative, since many of us have shed our timidity, at least most of it, it still is a change. A concreteness, I just feel supported. I have ample situations you could look at, then read these words, and then sit back a little spooked. But, no, that faith never shakes, though I rail against it from time to time.

So,a generator. Don’t see too many ads for that sort of work these days. And so, it goes. I do it gladly, and I will tell you this to close. Last night, I went to kirtan because I was canceled for my shift at work.

And there I am, in ecstasy, having the time of my life, and this little Confusicuos dude comes to me and says, “You do realize, you are exactly where you were to be, doing exactly what needs to be done. How does THAT feel?!”

And there was a sense of celebration then, and relief, feeling like I get it right and am actually on time, and it felt good. We danced and danced, all of us, and I saw happy changes to the grid, because we really were celebrating, and we really were just wanting to express, our individual love for god. And so, all of us, the ancients in the room, all chanting, singing, and you, those connected with me, entangled as we are in this journey, we danced together and celebrated just how far we have come, just how wonderfully things are working out, just how beautiful each of us is, and just how wonderful it is to be together again. Celebration, this kind of love, it is a gift, and it travels along those quantum lines we are awash in, and is a gift to everyone, conscious of it or not.

I was taught that although it is fine to run light or energy on someone you might not have discussed it with, you must always draw their higher selves up in discussion before proceeding. Their higher selves, of course, know how much and what kind of light and energy that being needs. And so the light comes, and what can be used is used. Everyone has free choice.

But it’s a trap to think that this means we have been consciously creating things. Form the looks of it, to me, a lot of it was created rather unconsciously. And now we are beginning to see there really needs to be another way. Old paradigms must fall, and certain things just can no longer stand. I’m not one for revolution, but if en masse we all just say NO MORE to a few things, things would change. Overnight. They’d have to. But I don’t imagine this as possible until the agreement fields, or morphogenic fields, are in better resonance with higher ideals.

So the first wave does their thing, and a pitch is met, set, broadcast. And then, as the story goes, once this is a strong enough thing, another critical mass is hit, and the second wave awakens. And then, the third wave gets worked on. The die hards. The real pricks.

I think it’s happening now, and I feel less and less weird about saying that. I feel more confident in my skills, and in my reporting, too. I feel better, and I am more than hopeful, now. I feel something stronger than hope. It’s a knowing I have long traveled with, but have done my best to minimize. The seat of my crazy, thinking everything was really alright after all.

Deeply Awake — Something Sacred This Way Come 7-19-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — Something Sacred This Way Come 7-19-13 By Kathy Vik

When I picked up Sam yesterday, after the initial settling-in that happens, the standard light bickering and hugging and, just weird pecking at each other like a couple of old hens, he got a little sparkly, sat up a little straighter, and then said, “Now, don’t go all SPIRITUAL on me. I want to tell you about these dreams I’m having…”

He prefaces a lot of stuff like that. I don’t know, but he seems to be allergic to the word God, and I only see this kid angry when A- I’m being voicing negative judgments about ANYBODY and B- When I talk about “spiritual stuff” or “God” or “energy.”

Lately, he’s been more open about why he reacts this way. He gets really disdainful, and then says, God isn’t real. It’s not “out there.” And he acts all disgusted and storm-cloudy, just super impatient, like when you’ve been with someone who is really slow for maybe three hours longer than Job would have been able to tolerate, and there’s that one final stupid ass request that makes your heart break and your soul sear with impatience. I’ve been there. And, evidently, so has Sam.

So, he told me about how the next three days he was going to be getting his wings. He was going through an initiation, he told me, and he’d be getting special powers. And he was all excited about this, really happy.

I wasn’t allowed to comment, just smile, just take it in and hope he tells me more, tankful he feels comfortable to tell me any of it.

He’s been doing this since he could talk, laying it on me that his real skin is blue, and he has gills, he’s a water being, he has been going through what he calls “activations” for just as long. He loved the pool, as a little one, telling me that swimming activates his powers.

Years and years of him telling me about how he was learning to decloak, and how his powers were changing.

What would you do, if you were me? A single mom, with an ex-husband who thinks I’m a hysteric (poor fellow, he has issues with women), with a son who has some behavioral issues, impulse control problems and social anxiety, some odd phobias, and relatively limited interest in connecting in socially acceptable ways.


So, I let it ride.

And then, I woke up. 2012, this is the year I finally let down the walls separating me from my sense of wonder. My willingness to be plastic and fluid in heart and mind refreshed, revived, and fully running the show now.

I let it ride, and found that the more I opened to the possibilities of how big I might be, how multiple or group-energy I am, well, who am I to tell my son that his impressions are wrong, or crazy? Why would I do that to him?

Thank God I’d taken that approach from the start, otherwise I’d be building basic human trust with him, right now, repairing years of feeding him shame and fear of himself and planting seeds of self doubt, denial, steadfastly clinging instead to the measures men give us for how successful this child-rearing experiment is going: how many extra-curricular activities is he doing, how many dozens of friends does he have, how many hobbies has he mastered, how good are his grades?

Are you kidding me? I find that this is a generation of highly competitive parents, I must say. My peers were driven, and they’ve driven their kids. And indigos, they are very hard to drive, which has been an interesting set up, but, here we are, in 2013, with a kid who is telling me that in three days time he thinks he will be turning into a full-on dragonfly.

So, I am thinking, as we I’m driving us home, hmm, what a lovely metaphor. I would imagine that a lot of this energetic stuff must look like that, and I think the symbology is piquant. I wonder what the meaning of dragonfly is in the symbology texts. Hey! That’s Diane’s creature right now, she told me that she has always resonated with that energy too! Wow!

I remember now, that’s supposed to be connected with the fairies, the elementals, and I understand they are coming on-line, allowing cooperation again, because our vibration is finally high enough, some of us, to use them cooperatively. They are an easily subjugated kingdom so they split. Wow, so, what Sam is always telling me about being, what does he call it, he’s always referencing elementals, and how he understands and is part of the elements.

So that’s my thinking. I didn’t jibber jabber about all that, though I probably talked more than I should have. Still, he was at ease, and happy.

I am not going to send this child to a psychologist. Or a priest. Or anybody who can’t see him with eyes that are willing to be surprised, taking in colors they’ve never seen before.

I was planning on writing something about how I have found that there has been a stair-step progression the last few days, and, just as I’d been told, this gate we are walking through is a profound one. It ends, for me, tonight, after kirtan. I feel it is a special time, these three days, had been thinking this for awhile, but because Sam has laid down such a strict edict, these celestial events which I look forward to or wonder about, I never tell him about, not any of them.

The word “energy” is banned at my house. Not so much banned, but I just don’t enjoy his anger and don’t wish to upset him. Why upset this creature with words which seem to irritate, inflame, when the intent is to soothe, to calm, to instruct if asked and to encourage if I’m asked for my silence.

The healing that took place prior to this gateway, three days ago, was significant and multi-leveled. After writing my last thing, that night, I went to bed, as instructed, without music or tapes, just me and the fan and my cats.

I prepared for bed having known something that had always been bent within me was suddenly straight and true and forever healed. So, I told “them,” quaint but familiar terminology, I asked “them” for a dispensation. I asked for something to be given to me which would forever cement this experience, to make it physical and whole, to own in, but, more, I wanted to be given a gift.

I do that a lot anymore, ask, just out and out ask, for a gift. A real gift, one I can hold in my hands that I know is from them. And sometimes it is a gift of perception, or wisdom, or emotion, of understanding. It’s fun. And it’s fun because it works. Every single time.

I layed my head on the pillow. It was dark and my body felt immediately relaxed. And I closed my eyes and there was no breath work, there was no foreplay, none at all, not this time.

I closed my eyes and was immediately face to “face” with an energy I recognized and have longed to be with for a long time. Right there, spinning for me.

It said that it had a gift for me, and then, right then, I was shown that I’d already gone there a few times before, but I had never comprehended just where it was that I had gone, had been taken, at my own request.

I believe that there is a place, a physical place, that you can only get at when you are expanded, multidimensional, more whole. And in that place is the library, the akashic record, the sanctum sanctorum.

In front of me was a huge, glowing crystal, much larger than I’d ever seen a crystal, and formed very beautifully. I knew it was just a little thing, but there it was, huge and alive and blazing. It was white, and had orange and pink tips, it was really pretty, glowing, alive somehow, and very inviting.

I was told it was me, my soul, my totality, and I was being invited to enter it.

I must have skipped a beat, because my guide said, “You have earned this.”

So, I thought up some stairs, since it seemed fitting to symbolize this a little, so I did a few stairs, but then, it’s like the wood melted away, and the concept of “getting up there” became an abstraction, and all I wanted to do was go in, or become it, and so, I did.

It’s funny how light it was. I imagined a big library, so many books, oh my, and the huge, vast, wall of books went on for infinity, in both directions, up to the heavens and below, forever, somehow, and everything else was glassed in. All airy and light, and there were things in the air, mobiles and floating things and there were a lot of people, too, which surprised and delighted me.

Immediately, there was a presence, up and to the left. Ha! There it was, and I knew it then, all that I could see, was an interdimensional playground of delight. Anything I want, anything I want to know or feel or remember, all here, all here, this is home, in a way, and I understood, and have used since, the outdoor area. This is where people visit me, and we ask others to join, not “me”, exactly, but entities who are my dear friends and beloved brothers, those who have knowledge to impart and love to give.

I then had a 3d physical experience which was just so beautiful, and I can’t really describe it, suffice to say, it is one of those things, you look back on later, and just smile knowingly, happily, quietly, because it is something good you are thinking on, something you don’t want to share, and are happy you don’t have to.

It was a swirl, a soup, of love, that night.

At work, the next day, I felt so good. Those rare shifts in which nothing bad happens, they are every shift now. It is just wild, how good my nights are now, and they used to just suck, oh my god, every night was just problem after problem. That was nursing, really, but, more honestly, that was me. Problem solver. Janitor. Clean up crew. Ugh. But, that’s changed. I crested something.

And the meditations, they are getting sweeter, more intense.

I’ll tell you, today feels altogether different to me, I feel different.

Last night, in meditation, I asked for something, something that I figured would just always be a part of me, and I had, long ago, to be really honest, I gave up on ever being able to release this burden. Pervading, or tainting every good thing, every transition toward sweetness in character and thought, there was a futility.

I don’t even like to mention this now, because I can feel that this essay is one which is happy and light. And so to discuss our wicked step mother, futility, it seems sad and small and unnecessary somehow.

But I think its removal from my feeling state is so miraculous, that to pass by this marker without discussion would be missing an opportunity for celebration, and maybe even growth, but, certainly, if I do not write it down, where does it go? I am a forgetful soul.

I really wasn’t even going to write today, even though I was feeling so moved, but then I re-read that thing I wrote about how much I love lightworkers, and then I thought, oh, what the heck, stitching some more love can’t hurt, ha ha ha.

So, briefly, even in these neat states I was feeling, there’d be this voice, progressively fainter but still no less mood-altering: What is the point?

If it’s not one thing, it’s another, that I would use as the illustration, the attachment, to that one sentence which sort of encapsulated my existence up until recently.

What, really, is the point?

Even if I wake up, dammit, there still is no money, there still are ding dongs running around being mean and thick and awful. There’s still pain and disease. Blah blah blah you know the drill, anything to pull you down and out of it, right?!

But it didn’t work, and I think after last night, my body and mind and heart and spirit tell me that this is just such a false way of thinking, it is a laughable and flimsy approach to such magnificence, such creativity, what I and you and we are all doing.

It really does not make a lot of sense, it just doesn’t appropriately describe what it is that is happening within me, or “outside” of me, at this point.

And so, my prayer last night was to be given the gift of dropping and healing from having carried such futility. I just wish to drop futility. That’s it. Please let me leave it here, I said last night to a darkened room, through eyes that were not being visited by color, by family, by thoughts.

Into that darkness, I said I was ready to leave futility, and to not have it in my countenance anymore.

You know, it did darken everything I did. Clean clothes, they are clothes that will become dirty. That first hit of love between two adults, always what follows is dissonance, disillusionment, disappointment. That sort of thinking, sure, it is available to me, obviously, or these words could not be written, but I just don’t believe it anymore.

It is a barbed sort of energy, that kind of thinking, because within it, coded to release something tricky and challenging, is fear.


It really is that simple, and that is, quite simply, why the futility images which are elbowing in now, since they heard the invitation, they elbow to get a glimpse of me through my window, and anymore, I just smile from my rocking chair and say “hi,” but they are old friends, friends I am glad to have outside my house looking in, instead of the horrible house guests they used to be, friends who really don’t like me a whole lot anymore, and who are easily offended, quick to anger, and without a hint of joie de vivre.

So. Sam is going through a growth spurt, is sleeping up to twelve hours at a time, and cannot seem to make peace with his gut. I think I have let him sleep long enough, so I will rouse him and we will do things which will make us more comfortable in our house.

We’ll go do errands, and make sure we eat good foods which delight and satisfy us. We will laugh a lot today, I can already tell, because I am not spoiling for a fight, I am not mad at my life, and I am not seeing much in the way of impediments today. Even the things which used to frustrate me, because to me they symbolized all that disappoints me about me, my messy house, etc, oh, it’s a lark and a joy, and really ain’t nothin’ but a thang.

So, I have encoded and decoded my reality, all this god, energy, spirit, stuff in a very specific and individualized way. I know that, and it is just such a pleasure to understand, finally, somehow organically, today being the first day of this new understanding, that I really don’t have to think bad thoughts about my future anymore.

That’s the whole point, I think.

I am good at manifesting, am quite amazing when I get going. That the energy, and my own consciousness, was not interested, not willing, for so many many years, to bend to this inner knowing I have, so be it, what’s done is done.

I feel like I have been released from a prison I constructed for myself a long time ago, one with really gritty, cool, urban posters that evoke a rock and roll mentality, you know, live hard and leave a pretty corpse, that good old fuck the world sort of vibe. The posters are humorously defensive, knowingly stupid, devastatingly whipsmart.

These posters have been removed, and what is revealed is a wall of glass, and maybe, really, there isn’t even glass. Maybe it’s just the clear blue sky I’m seeing, and it feels that this is a view I have obstructed for a long time, too long, and anymore, right now, it is no longer time to weep for all the time that has passed without this view, without this creativity and benevolence of countenance, of knowing, this feeling of actually embodying something absolutely and utterly benevolent.

I think it feels so good that it is not something I want to do now, think sad thoughts about “the past.” Those were stories that were told to and by a child who was in the process of growing up. Stories which helped things she could not yet understand seem to have coherence, like overlays one must lay over an image of a simple but exquisitely profound crop circle.

One by one, these explanatory overlays are removed, the mythology and the explanations removed, one by one, and because you paid attention to the overlays, and the lessons from them cling to your mind, have shaped and expanded your ability to comprehend, level by level, lesson by lesson, overlay by overlay, now, one by one, they can be lifted, one by one they are removed, and what emerges is what was always there in the first place, the idea which generated the explanations, the reality which spawned a trillion lifetimes and an unspeakably deep well of understanding, and, funniest thing, deep within the being of the image, there is an eye, and it is winking at you, a smiling eye, a knowing eye, a familiar and ancient eye.

There it sits, a doodle, something which is at once so profound and so simple, that it is, within its very nature, able to winnow out fool from sage, just by being itself, pure and clear and beautifully simple, a joy to look at, and a puzzle so deep and vast, to begin considering it will lead you to journeys which will leave you unrecognizable to yourself, one day.

This is within each of us, the capacity is there within each of us to come home and see things simple, see the joy in the days we are giving ourselves, on this journey Home.

This is just the effects of the grand Trine, and it is only because I think it would be fun, that I have had these experiences. I have opened to them, allowed them, and it really, really, is not for everyone, but it is for the earth and for you and for myself that I do it, gratefully, and you are the only one now who matters to me.

You, reading this, please know that I love you and that you aren’t alone, never have been, and I know that sounds like utter bullshit most of the time, when you are knee deep in alligators and your reality is sucking, ragged, scary and tilty. If you feel stuck, or if you are having much drama, much futility, or depression, or anxiety, know this.

I know what you are knowing. I have walked those linoleum tiles, those dirt paths, those psych wards and pawn shops and shrink’s offices and healer’s homes. I have been there, and I have known blackness so consuming I cried for death, many many times, I did, and I remember it well, I do.

But that is not the end. It is the beginning. There is a crucifixion of the soul, and sacrifice of purpose, of self, of meaning which can lead to great things. But that is only one way of looking at it.

This is the climbing of your personal, self-contained mountain, and yes, it is a steep climb sometimes, but it’s you, this mountain, and you can seek refuge in any number of beautiful caves along the way. The idea is to get high enough to be able to take it all in, whole, at once, and to come to see that the only struggle was one which was self-imposed, and done for great fun, and also for some good exercise and fresh air.

You can go all energetic and do the god stuff, like I do, because that is just where it always goes for me, in the end, but, come on, there is enough just here on earth, let’s not even get into the pleadieans, the arcturians, all those guys, just here in this one akash, there is everything.

And futility, it doesn’t apply.

Self-loathing? Are you kidding me?

You don’t have to see it as sacred. I don’t relate that well to the word god myself. It is just a whiff, that word, just a faint whiff, of the grandeur which is unspeakable, unknowable, and so pure, so benevolent, so profound, that to feel adoration and recognition and homecoming, these are the only natural responses to its purity and loving benevolence for each of us.

Many do not know of this place, and when I talk about it, because it is not yet within their travels, and it has not been one of their willingnesses yet, then they can get, maybe nervous, or spooked, but that’s ok, I have found a way to tone it down.

There was still a bit of separation there, in all of the writing, this sense that I was always going to be apart somehow, and this is an overlay I can now look at, recognize as something I used to really know, but I don’t like it much now, and I am not going to be thinking such things. It doesn’t feel good, and I don’t think it’s necessary to feel bad.

This is the thing, and the sacredness that is coming.

There was a time when I thought none of this would translate very well into my daily life, and I would keep getting a bunch of crap for it, and that made me feel like waking up was futile.

And this bled onto everything, invaded how I spent my money, and my free time, and it helped shape what thoughts I expressed, what dreams I focused on, and what activities I engaged in.

I have found, though, something so vast and beautiful and fulfilling, right inside me, and now, I am just as happy with you if you like me or if you don’t.

It is not without a grin that I tell you that I know you are going to be happier around me now. I know this. But even if you wind up having a bad day and acting in ways that are just awful, that will be fine too. I will love you.

You cannot take advantage of me. What a silly thought. You cannot hurt me. How can I not, then, love you and wish to help you, and move in ways that are joyful and soothing and balanced?

I know there is sacredness within mathematics, geometry, and I knew from girlhood, toddlerhood, that if I needed to be reminded of perfection, if I needed relief from the fucking insanity I had around me, that was just so dense most of the time, that I had trouble taking in a deep breath, all I had to do was look out the window, or look at a piece of fruit, or go lay down in clover.

Even as a little, little girl, I knew, that it is that simple, that I can find sanity by looking at the way a fruit is made. No one can tell me there is not a loving creator with a devastatingly grand sense of humor, when I spend time studying a grape, or an orange, or a tree, or an ant, or a cloud.

The insanity would mute, and nothing could affect me for those moments, even as a child. I knew something everyone else had seemed to have forgotten, and it was contained, this truth, in this little thing that others think is insignificant.

Clover? Get up, it’s time to go to the store.

And then, now, to understand that the miracle of nature that always soothed me, always reminded me that things were ok, now I see that tapping these little keys is really, honestly, a piece of nature.

What am I if not a biological entity, someone who bleeds if she’s cut, cries and laughs and chortles and dances, whose skin responds like a garden to the rays of the sun, whose being can consume something from the ground and turn it into thought, action, emotion, and waste?

I am nature, and I can now find solace in the simple geometry which also forms me, my cells, my self, and my buddha nature.

If you call this something other than sacred, and if the words god or energy or spirit inflame you, can we, maybe for today, and maybe for all time, just agree that words are symbols, and what matters is the core of it, the truth of it, the feel and flow and benevolence of it, and this it, it is something we actually have in common?

Is my Sam a Galaxian, as he claims? Can he grow gills in the water? Is he going to be transforming into a dragonfly?

Is his set of thoughts any less strange than the mythology surrounding the Christ, or Buddha or Mohammed? They are stories we have told ourselves to make sense of things which are simply beyond our ability, or, frankly, willingness, to language. This is what children do, and it is what I did to make sense of my own life, of the seeming chaotic and random happenings which befell me, confounded me and perplexed me.

Let it ride. Let it be. Be still. Smile. Look up.

Something sacred this way comes.

P.S. Sam just came into my room and told me that he had an awesome dream. He was happy, and said, really excited, “My wings came in!”

We talked for a bit, and he was open as long as I was silent.

Toward the end, I added something, and he balked, and so I smiled and commented, “You don’t need to be taught. You need to teach.”

Without hesitation, conversationally, he said, “I don’t want to teach, I want to heal.”

I love my kid.

Deeply Awake — Dear Friends 7-14-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — Dear Friends 7-14-13 By Kathy Vik

You know, if you have been following along, that I sort of reached a point of disgust, of sadness and of disappointment which found me, if not inconsolable, then non-plussed, about a week ago.

I had not made it abundantly clear, for reasons which will remain unclear, that I had been given the gift of a lesson in discernment, in tearing away from a consensus reality, what appears to be once and for all.

This is a big, big step, and one that I have been flirting with, keeping interested, hoping that someday the time would be right for our love to bloom. Have you known something like this, where not having contact brings relief, and contact brings unpleasantness, not for them, just for you?

I left the writing thinking I would not go back, and in a way, I return to this work changed, really.

Through a series of gifts from co-workers, old friends, readers and spiritual teachings, through synchronicity and divine timing, I was given gifts, and none of them make me want to do anything but love people. I have things that jam it up, though.

I, like many of us, came in with some programming that it has been my job, and my honor, to rewrite. This programming, these overlays that are just ripe for destruction, for reintegration, they were simple ones, but profound, which made it absolutely impossible to feel anything like warmth with people.

This is programming which results in much drama, sleepless nights, and gnashing of the teeth. Wandering the desert, that sort of thing. But I know I am not alone in this. I know, having read the Cannon books, the Convoluted Universe series, among others, that there are many out there just like me, like you.

Dolores works with us, and has been spreading so much information, with her own observations and experiences, with her teaching and for me, still, it’s all about he books.

I’ve learned, and felt such a solid feeling of re-membering, with her books, much of them transcripts of sessions she has had with people like me, like you. Her books are filled with information on quantum meditation, memory recall, soul integration.

It is one way to get there, and it is effective.They’re field notes, oh! Just read one of the Convulted Universe books and I challenge you not to feel filled with something which you will know intellectually shouldn’t affect you as it does, but there it is.

In your hand, there on the page, stories, from our inner worlds, how outer and inner intertwine, examples, proof, we are so much more than we can access while the programming is working, while we’re awake.


There for a time, I’d say the last couple of months, I found it harder and harder to relate to the idea of an ultimate God.

I became so appreciative of the vastness contained in this wrinkly skin, I found it really hard to even want to assign a name or a meaning to the voices inside my head. I began to feel that inside, right in here, was enough. And of course, this is where communication gets tricky, and when I need to involve more open channeling, more honesty, to my explanation, so please bear with me.

I know, in the cells of my body, because the cells of my eyes witnessed it, when everything lit up gold, and I could see my ex-husband, my son, the truck, all lit up, all gold, and it was crystal clear to me, in those moments, that the only reason any of us are doing any of this, here on Earth, is because we love each other so so so so much.

We are all in love with each other, and we all love each other so much we sometimes even do outrageous things, and it may all seem totally random, but nothing is farther from the truth.

The truth is we are all here with the purpose of loving each other, and ourselves.

Loving oneself is sort of not even an issue in that place. It is so obvious it really is just part of the reality, and can be unsaid. And isn’t that nice?

So, I understood that on Christmas Eve, 2012, and it changed me. It really did. It quieted me. It calmed me to realize this.

And then the storms came, and I became more and more squeezed, gladly I then did what needed to be done: find a way to make this understanding my everyday reality.

And this led to great dissonance, and what always feels like it has to be the final resolution. Maybe now, I think. It seems reasonable.

I’ll ask you, and I really would love it if you would consider it, doing it, and then telling me your thoughts. What would happen, do you think, if everyone on God’s Green Earth got a hit of that? Because, in that state, on that night, it was abundantly clear, just unwritten, so obvious, that this vision I had (I think of it as having the scales removed from my eyes) is a truth for all, not just for me.

I am not the only one on this planet aware of this beauty.

And, what was so true for me, after seeing it, is that I understood I was being given a gift of how things really are, how things really look and the real and true reason behind stuff. I’d been asking. It was a bad Christmas,

They just arranged for a very nice gift. One I’d never return.

See, here is that overlay of isolation again.

And this is what my etheric friends have been helping me with. I have come to understand that part of my programming, and yours, perhaps, is to feel isolated, to feel alone and stranded. Of course, it is a normal reaction to having your memory wiped, and that alters friendships sometimes. But, more than this, there is an element of alienation which runs through this thing, this whole thing, like a lone bassoon note.

If the set up is that each of us is a discrete entity, and that none of us are connected in any real way, then of course, what I see in my head has no bearing on what you are aware of.

But I saw Michael Clayton a few nights ago, the movie, and I have to tell you, something in it just struck a gong in me, for the first time, though it was there the whole time.

This is taking the whole us and them thing to a place I can live with, maybe.

In that movie, which I have to say is the best movie ever written, for a lightworker, the boy is reading a book called Realm + conquest. In it, all the characters are having a dream, telling them they need to go to a certain place. No one knows that anyone else is having the same dream, but a whole lot of people are being summoned.

Does it not strike you as wonderfully coherent that someone in Tunisia can have the same weird feeling of getting supermassive, and then shrinking to the size of a pinprick, then huge again?

Do you not find it weird that regardless of country, biology, economic status, here on the web is one language, with everyone having impressions about it, but there is core information, core stuff, that we are all experiencing?

Many of us are having the same changes in our biology, in our personal lives, even.

How alone can a person feel?

But this isolation which I was walking around with was a metaphor. I could care less, really, if the nurse I am giving report to after my shift wants to give me nine rations of crap for perceived fuck ups. It doesn’t matter what sort of a jerk folks are, because maybe this alienation is not with her, maybe it’s with me.

I had my hand up with God, and maybe a part of that was just not being sure that something so grand could even exist. Maybe it was me coming to see that a need for something grander than just this, just this miracle we are currently living, is an egoic one.

But I fell down there, on the battlefield, and without my God, things got dicey.

My research had been telling me that human beings really are not worth the effort, but my heart had always made it impossible for me not to expect angelic things from folks. Then they’d do what they’d do, and I would feel so hurt, so disappointed, and so hopeless. I can do my part, but I really began to feel no one else was holding up their side of the bargain.

And, through the months, I have come to feel exquisitely comfortable, from time to time, with the truth that I am a little monk, a priest without parish, nun without cloister, shaman without tribe. This used to grieve me to no end.

To not have others who saw me, honored what I am, oh, I shouldn’t have felt it but I did, I did, I did, there has always, always always, been a tiny part of me who just, in utter consternation, thinks to herself, “IF YOU HAD ANY IDEA WHO I AM, YOU WOULDN’T BE DOING ME AS YOU ARE DOING ME, YOU KNOW.”

Where does that even come from, in me? It rides along, usually silent, often I feel I am made to bow, and yet it never overrides, but it’s there. Some feel it and defer. Most don’t And some feel it and start throwing haymakers, or spinning webs, or talking smack.

I have abandoned any real hope that my description of a sort of spiritual outrage would be understood by anyone. It is not something I have ever expressed, except right here.

But I think that it is because I refused to own this thinking as valid that I had the dissonance I had.  I just don’t do sour grapes. And there hangs this deference thing. Who am I to have such a thought. That sort of thinking?

I think it’s time to fuck questioning it.

And here is how.

I know I would never think such an egocentric though, such a potentially psychotic thought, unless A – I was mentally so fragile I was really close to shattering or B – it was true.

I opt for the latter.

It ties in with seeing things all glowing and knowing that I was so loved it just took my breath away.

I opt for believing, right here in my chest, in my skin, that we love each other so much it is crazy, just unimaginable how much love there is here, and we have chosen to see this as irrelevant.

We have simply chosen to forget how much we love each other.

But, you can see, can’t you, how this would set a person up for dissonance. Because here comes the jerk at the check out line, the jerk in the hospital bed, the jerk I have to give report to, the jerk who, it turns out, is my friend, parent, sibling, at any given time.

This speaks, of course, to the theme of last entry, that theme of people just acting horribly, and what do you do with that? Someone who says they love me who just shits all over me. How can this be explained, within this framework of cosmic love?

It made me want to walk away from the whole ball of wax, frankly. How can I stay here, knowing what I know, knowing all that I know, and knowing, being able to take to the bank, the truth of it, that you love me, when you are standing there telling me that I am nothing.


So, I did a lot of praying. I listened to Kryon, just a bit, and I was with myself. I decided I needed a walkabout, and after writing my last piece, I gave myself the option to just fricking walk away from this, not speak anymore. I was tired.

And then the miracles came.

I was told, have been repeatedly told, to be ready, because “Now is the time for adventures in loving.”
I have been told with great repetition and authority that it is now time for me to stand back and allow for the love, for adventures in loving.

I understand what was once unclear. I know what was once only a rumor, a hope, a random thought.

I need to tell you what I have come to understand about dark and light, about how light is working in this life of mine, but first, I think there is a thought which must be laid down, another note to add to this melody. It is a big one.

As dad was kicking me out of his house the day after he came home from his surgery, blind with anger that was alarming to witness, that was without rational cause. Under the circumstances, it was an act of mercy to pack and go, and hope an explanation would come later. But to get that stoic and stay that way as I gathred our stuff, strewn through the house after a week of staying there, I decided I needed a smoke.

I went out the garage, lit up, relaxed, and was struck with a great moment of clarity. Through this haze of hate and fear he was emitting, I made it to the garage and lit up a smoke.

Regardless of the cause of this irrational behavior, I closed my eyes, and through my tears, I realized that although the years had softened everything, and all transgressions had been forgiven and forgotten, and ways to realize and express gratitude part of our daily lives now,

I stood out there, smoked, and realized in a flash that it was this man, this one, quaking in rage for the route I’d taken home from the hospital, that was my sin this time. So obviously irrational as to be almost silly, almost alarming. But as I cleared my head I got it, like a light flashing.

As a girl it wasn’t trivial, it wasn’t obviously silly, it was unpredictable, but it was often. Sometimes for not loading dishwasher right. It could happen in a heartbeat, and it never made any sense. It was this person who I grew up with.

That were the formative years. I had a dad I was scared of. I’d forgotten so much of it, and it all came crashing back. Yeah, this irrational, rage-filled, barely controlled scary guy, this is the dad I had when I was little. This is the terror I knew. This crushing feeling that I was just destroyed. Decimated. I am now a stain. I’d been happy and excited. Fuck. Not again,

And I suddenly felt great.

A blossom of compassion began, and grew exponentially. I saw that this was something I love about myself, I feel compassion toward myself. And the love just kept going. Of course I’d been scared, and I’d had to learn how to deal with an unpredictable threat, not only find how to cope with it, to find a way to soothe it, and, the crown jewel, find a way to love i? That was my mission, that’s what I wanted, what I needed to do. I felt so loving toward myslef, but proud, too.

I coughed. I butted my smoke. And I realized, in vivid technicolor, I’d been shown me the truth of the matter:

There is no pleasing some people.

No matter what I do, I am going to be wrong.

And then I laughed. Right out loud.


This changes everything.

And then I found myself looser somehow, happier, and I went back into that house and gathered the rest of my crap, and drove away with a smile on my face. I really did. I was seen as the devil incarnate, and I rejected the notion, and I walked away with my head held high.

I couldn’t take this change of events personally, although it was supposed to be personal, that was the point, with these presentations, even now.

But it just wasn’t relevant to me, anymore. I knew it would work out, in the end, but I felt my way was now far clearer. My guess is my dad won’t remember much about this time, and in the end, I realize it won’t need to be relived, by either of us. But to write about it, knowing all is forgiven, and indeed, sainted, I don’t think he’d mind me writing this. I wouldn’t.

This was the beginning for me. The beginning of my adventures. But it didn’t know it.

From there, I have been shown, over and over and over again, that I have options.

I am surrounded by folks who are absolutely more than willing to offer me the reality they inhabit, that of me being bad, them being good.

The mechanics of this thinking, it used to fascinate. I used to be enthralled with figuring out why people act in horrible, horrible ways. What would make anyone be so mean? What makes anyone act meanly? It’s so messed up.

See, I used to go there when being assaulted. I used to go right to that place. Why are they doing this? If they had any idea, they wouldn’t be. Oh. My. God. The. Pain.

It makes sense, I suppose, to take this posture. Sinking low, drawing into a ball, this is a protective posture toward a rain of blows. It is natural and it’s fine. No worries.

But through the last several days, I have not been so willing to curl and lay down and whimper when people come at me blazing in their state of being convinced I am an enemy.

And, as I am not equipped to fight this lifetime, am unwilling to fight back, will not strike another, will never, then, what to do, what to do?

Quite a pickle.

Something Kryon said at the time of the dad drama punctuate the madness and made me feel clean, briefly. He said that the dark, this metaphysical, quantum, innate force we are aware of here, the dark sends out many representatives, and the dark is aware of a few things I am not.

So, now we get into the lesson, the mechanics, and then, at the back end, we will tie it up with a pretty bow, OK?

What I understand now, about light and dark, well, there is a lot, but I will capsulize it here.

The Teachers told me that it was our job, so to speak, to stitch love into the earth. Whenever, however it happens, when true love, that real love you feel for nature, for others, when that happens, and when things like recognition and forgiveness and absolution occur, it creates love, and then, our job is to be aware of the love, love the love, and know that when it is felt, it is being literally stitched into the grid. It will be felt for all time. It will change everything. Everything that happened before, on that ground, wiped clean, and in its place, love.

They told me that in 1992 or 1993. It was something simple and it stuck. It became an explanation for me, a reason to take abuse, a reason to have hope. If I can manage love, I can change the Earth.

Kryon amplified this teaching, actually blew me wide open as a result of this amplification.

First, understanding that I am running so much light that I cannot be harmed, this is a key point. I guess I have always known this is true, since I did do battle with some wickedly dark entities while working with The Teachers. But, what about just garden variety nonsense, and meanness, and bullying, and all the officious, fussiness we are invited to partake in day to day anymore?

The dark is dumb, and easily tricked, but the dark knows a thing or two.

The dark deals in doubt, in fear, in denial, in equivocation. The dark is what sits on your chest and tells you you will never ever amount to anything. The dark is who is speaking when your friend tells you that your spiritual pursuits are madness. It is the dark who tells you that you will always be poor, alone, unloved, unrecognized and stuck.

And it is when I hear these words, and look into my little life and see, oh, here and here and here, I see proof of this dark talk. I see that this has always been true for me, so, ok, you are right, I am stuck/fat/dumb and it will never change, then, the dark has won.

The dark is what wins when someone gets my goat. The dark wins when I speak out of anger. The dark wins when I give up.

The dark is doubt, fear, loneliness, separation.

And I maybe have spent too much of my time thinking bad thoughts about the person who has been the dark’s most willing representatives, because now I am seeing that this concept of someone being able to turn on a dime, change and never look back, altering themselves irrevocably, this is truth, and if that is true, it really does let everybody off the hook.

I am unwilling to see you as an enemy, and if you do not know me as friend, and you think I am an enemy, I am no longer willing to hate you back.

If you are unable to see the light streaming out of my heart, how can I hate you? How can I now? And if you never see me as anything but the enemy, who has lost here?

I can remember my car ride on Christmas Eve, it rides with me. I remember. I know you love me.

And now I know that if you act in a way which is unloving, you are not doing anything but dancing in the dark, with me.

And I really don’t enjoy dancing in the ark anymore. I like the lights on. I like to see your face as we travel across the dance floor, see how your chin looks angular now, soft now, how your face glows, and now glowers, and now glows. It is beautiful to watch. But it is your face. Yours.

Of course, some of this comes from not being wrapped very tight, being screwed with early in life, losing a sense of identity which would have come in handy as I grew up, but there it is.

Some very primitive thought patterns were just there, part of my makeup, things most, and me, never thought I could overcome. A hole in me that told me in no uncertain terms mine was to remain lost, remain empty, remain unfilled.

But I have come to see that the time of The Father is over for me.

The Father who cannot be pleased, who takes without asking and demands, tortures, for the ambivalent muttering of how much I love and need him.

This time is over for me.

And then, there at the counter this morning, putting coffee on to brew, it came to me whole: My central question has been this: How can I be intact in this life if I need you? And how can I not need you to be intact? If you do not reflect me as I am, then who am I?

And there it was, whole:

Reflections are nice, but they are only reflections.

The reflective surfaces are not clear, not really, not any of them, really.

And this hole in me, this sucking chest wound I have always walked around with, believing any random curse as fair, any criticism as fair and possibly accurate. I got knocked off my horse with regularity thinking this way.

But now, I think I see that when someone is unloving, cold, or even mean, they are perhaps more than a flawed and disposable human, a lost and screwed-up person. Not someone I need to extinguish or reflect pain back to.

It is reflection of themselves I am looking at.

What a relief to figure that out!

Yes, I screw up and don’t hit the mark sometimes, but I know within me is a lot of light, light which has dispelled much of the darkness I took within me when I came here. I understand my dark more than before, and I am getting better at recognizing it.

The dark, being dumb, just rely on dirty tricks. And just like when the lights come up after a concert, after a movie, there may be a few, or a lot, of folks hiding, doing any number of dumb things in the dark.

The lights come up, and all the nasty stuff that had been going down, and all the ugly, mean stuff that just seems natural to do in the dark, and had to be let run its course because there was no recourse, not one in sight, well, now these things are being exposed, and the balancing begins.

I don’t agree to the thoughts that I am bad, need anyone to tell me how to live, and I no longer believe that there is anything within me that is worth disliking. Sure, I have foibles, but I am intact, I am whole, and I know my heart is open and in the right place. I trust myself.

So if you don’t, and demand I relinquish my reality for yours, well, to that I can now very politely say, oh, well, thanks, but I’ll pass this time.

It means, if you are a jerk, I no longer hate you, no longer fear you.

The dark has a couple of tricks, you know.

The dark knows that our Achilles heel is self-worth.

Kryon puts it this way. Try to imagine for one moment how many times you have come into a lifetime, seek and find enlightenment, and found you had to leave it early because the people around you did not like that.

How many times, shaman? Witch? Pagan? Heathen? Weird one?

Makes you think.

So, the willingness to abandon enlightenment, to fight and shut down and render useless the knowledge that God indwells each of us and is well pleased, it is as real as anything, and just a little hit of it is enough to makes some people so frightened, so shaken up.

And here we come, blazing hearts open to God, hearing non-stop monologues, or seeing visions, or living within synchronicity, and here, beside us, comes sidling up our old friend, our old enemy, the dark.

So if I am seen as an enemy, I now know that this is just a little exercise. I may get tricked again, maybe this afternoon, and that’ll be just fine, but I think it might get harder to trick me.

I know now that even if I do get tricked, even if I do battle with the dark, with its representatives, sent to invite me to once again feel small, insignificant, a beggar at this banquet, I know I will always return to center. There may be pain, dissonance, fear, but this is instructive too.

The more time I spend feeling intact, the more time I am feeling intact. Is there anything wrong with it? Nope, not really. Feeling intact is pretty nice. And I know now this is my birthright, to return to center, with more than I had the last time out, more able to see things as they are.

I hold less fear now, and this is a central element to this next part.

I am convinced that our greater good, it is connected to connecting with you,it is in building up instead of tearing down, it is in creating, not in destruction.

But here we are, all in the world of polarity, duality, all of these choices, dancing around us, among us, asking us what we would like.

If you are inconsolable, and in that inconsolability, you see me, incorrectly but understandably, as the source of your suffering, well, friend, that’s is just fine, but it is not true, so I will not be taking this burden on. I will help you, instead, with my countenance, with my humor, with my good will, to dispel the shame and fear that is clouding your better judgment.

Some folks really cannot tolerate much light, it makes them crazy, and so from these folks I retire. I just can’t do it anymore, beating my head against a wall, upset about someone else’s interpretation of their reality, or of mine.

If you do not enjoy my expression, then your choices around your displeasure tell me volumes. And if your expression is a nasty one, it really is not a reflection of my spiritual state. It is a reflection of your spiritual state.


So, by now the coffee is ready, my son is awake, and I want to sit and watch some entertainment with him, so I will leave you with a story about him and I and kirtan, and then I will join the land of the living.

I have lately, along with being told that my role now is to hold no fear and to encounter love, to really cross this last frontier and come to see the Earth as a loving one, this is my new role. And there are lots of goodies here for me. But with this bit of information, I continue to get an image. I can feel my body, which has already shrunk significantly, I feel it shrinking more, and I inhabit a small body, a wiry one, and I am a brown man, I am an Indian man.

And this little brown man is someone I, me, Kathy Vik, would really like to be. Internally I know somehow that I am already this brown man. But I can feel my body habitus, when I have these visions, I can feel my body getting littler, getting thinner, and it feels good. I feel stronger, somehow, more of myself, when this little brown man visits me, as the whispers tell me that it is now time to hold no fear, to be bold, and to receive, partake in love.

So last night, after some initial complaints which were, I have to admit, lacking in conviction, and weeks of mild protestation, my son agreed to join me in kirtan.

We had it over at the leader’s home. Weekly, this man of peace opens his home to strangers who are his family, and as one, we raise the roof and are filled with love. You can feel the love, it is thick and golden, before we begin to long after it is over.

Sam felt self-conscious at first, but he was also open. We settled onto pillows on the floor, and he leaned over to me, smiling, pointing at the other folks, and he whispered, “They are my friends, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Sam, everyone here loves you very much.”

He smiled, he calmed, and we began.

It is hard, especially when self-consciousness has its hooks in you, to do kirtan joyfully. And I guess some folks have more comfort with chanting what seem like nonsense words than others. So that Sam did not sing, not an issue. He spent the first three songs in a deep sleep.

When we got to the midway point, Sam and I had both come out of our shells. And then came the Hare Krishna.

I always have just such overwhelming experiences, emotionally, to this song. Filled with love as I am, I began to weep. Sam undid my hair and stroked my head as I chanted and sang and was so full of love, so full of gratitude, so full of wonder, just thinking of it now, writing of it, there are tears in my eyes. It is as real as anything, knowing this sort of love, this sort of devotion to God.

After that song, he and I spent a lot of time cuddling while I sang, and in between songs we giggled a lot.

At the end, Sam chose to put our crystal from home, full of all that love, on the altar. He chose to place it at the feet of a statue of St. Francis, which was propping up a picture of Yogananda. I believe these are the same entity, and another expression of his is St. Germaine. It was beautiful, lyrical and meaningful for him to have chosen that statue. His middle name is Francis, after all.

All the way home, Sam told me of who he feels he is. He told me that his people look like insects, but their sun is so much bigger than ours, and this sun is where they are from. He told me many things. He explained about multiplicity, and told me of the ways in which this planet is failing.

We got home and parked the car, and continued to talk. He has come to think that perhaps his last expression was that of my old friend, Jeffrey. This caused no dissonance, it was sort of like a celebration. It didn’t feel weird at all, it felt happy, like something nice to consider. I know Jeffrey rides with me now. He died after Sam was born, but to this Sam says, well, I think he’s a part of me now.

I looked at him at kirtan, and I knew him as an ancient mother, and I as his ancient son. And I knew him as a grandmother, he an adored granddaughter. We were there, together, and I saw that our faces have changed, but that’s the nice part.

And I was filled with a healing I had given up on ever feeling.

After my last entry, I was convinced that mine was to now walk from the world of men, apart always, disappointed but hopeful, but thankfully apart. I would take myself out of circulation, and just give up. It hurts too bad to be hated by those I love. I am tired of it. I am tired of feeling like a bad person just because I am not understood very well.

And then, after so many invitations to all my friends had long been forgotten, passed over, and I was convinced that kirtan was just going to be mine, a little patch of grass never to be shared, there sat my son, on a cushion, held in love’s arms, and willingly we both celebrated a deeper knowledge of joy, of home, of God.

And I held him, on that floor, when it hit me full force, that I was indeed here sharing this with someone who has also found that it speaks to him.

And here I am, miraculously, counterintuitively, on a Saturday night, in a house in southwest Denver, chanting Sanskrit words for God, with a bunch of grown ups who also walk their walk out of step with their companions. Many come to kirtan alone, leave alone, and say nothing to anyone while there. Most sing, chant and run light with their eyes closed. It’s something I love about kirtan.

Here, your understanding of God can be shared but is not judged by the other. No one is on display, everyone is singularly experiencing their understanding of God, and as it happens, God comes and visits all of us, speaks the one language, the universal language, the language of the ancients, of home, of a love so deep,so profound , that, while in it, it is only natural to know that each of us is miraculously safe and loved and whole.

Sam gave me the thumbs up a few times during kirtan, and at its end, he did the impossible. He asked to do it again.

This was an adventure in loving, and while I am on that pillow, I will tell you a secret. From the first time I sat kirtan, from that first om, from that first time a year ago, that is when I came to know of the little brown man.

That first time chanting, it came to me, and I know it to be true. There is a little brown man, a fully self-actualized man, who lives in the Himalayas. He lives on the side of a mountain, but he can travel anywhere, and he is universal in some respects. He has secrets, and he has been alive a really really long time.

And I am him, and he is me, and he is who is helping me a lot these days. His wisdom is my wisdom, his temperance and humor and multidimensionality is mine.

This morning, I was not a little brown man. I was a plump and hopeful girl, plugging in her percolator, opening up her computer, greeting her son by the light of day. Here. In this skin.

To close, I pose a question to you. During kirtan, I feel so close to Shiva, to all the deities, and see myself in them. I am in love with life and earth and God and myself during kirtan. I am blue, I am in the lotus pose, and I am light, I am power, strength, mysticism.

I know of things that it feels good to know, remember things that feel are appropriate to have access to. I am ancient, Pleadian, revered, and old while in kirtan. I am being revered and honored in kirtan. As are each of us.

And this knowledge that I am more than this skin, this clump of retarded life stories, the feeling stuck and finding no solace and wanting that which I do not have, it settled within me, and I began to changed the way I sat. I could feel my spine loosen up, I got a hit of that dry, baking heat, and I could see myself turn into, bodily, that blue Shiva. I felt the warriors blood coursing thought mine, and I felt my body shift, straighten, correct.

I opened my eyes, and I could see much more clearly. More sparkly, everything was. I enjoyed the baking, and played with how I was sitting, because I could feel the connection, body to spirit, and I could see how the energy had been running just a little crooked.

And, although this passed, I know this is the origin and the direction of good things.

I have felt about kirtan as I have felt about all my spiritual pursuits. It is a tool, a good and wholesome one, but a tool alone. Just as Tarot, astrology, all of it, they are tools.

There is but one thing to do when the world turns against you, and that is to turn toward something that the world seems to have forgotten.

Kryon says, you know, many many people, their whole bag is to keep busy, keep doing, keep moving, keep structuring and telling others what to do, keep the focus out there.

By doing so, seeing the need and then fixing, fixing always fixing the outside, this allows folks to never get still, never go within, never find little brown men and big blue men and old grannies and all the rest.

So keep fixing. Keep doing. By all means, keep telling me what I am fixing is without hope of being anything but flawed, and that my doing is inadequate.

What else can I expect?

I can feel it, and I know it, when I am around someone who has already had a hit of this. It is just so obvious. And when that spark is not there, why, then, expect it to be there?

I know we are all connected, and that we are all here because we love each other.

Many do not.

Those who refuse to consider this as a possibility are those who find great discomfort in my having done so. And their requests for me to shut off the light, let’s all just go back into the dark, well, it can’t work that way can it?

If enough of us turn on our lights, and the lights make it possible for everyone to see just what it is that has been going on in the dark, then you tell me. If we all choose, stupidly, to extinguish our lights, everyone still will know where the weirdest areas are, right?

If I am stumbling in the dark and then have a flash of light, I can get a good enough lay of the land to then remember where the walls and doors are, and maybe, even with the lights out, I can still remember, still find my way.

Could it be that The Teachers did that for me all those years ago? They illumined my house, every room in it, and I got real familiar with my house. Then the lights went out, and even when it was pitch, I had a better idea of how to proceed safely, just for me.

And now, I really have to admit it, it’s noon. The sun is blazing, and I may not know all of it, I can’t, I guess, but I know more than I did, and light has a way of making the unknown routine.

I know this light disturbs some.

So be it.

I am having adventures in loving, because I am no longer as afraid as I once was. I do not fear The Other as I once did, and I no longer can see someone’s displeasure with me as anything but their displeasure with me. I can do nothing which deserves hatred. I am not made that way. I know. You know, if you are around me. I am not made that way. But the dark, it is my companion as much as it is yours.

I will continue to do this dance. I think I have a handle on it now! To be full, inside, this is a good place to be.

I have told you that there are dragons up ahead that I know I must learn to ride, but I don’t feel the foreboding about it that I once did.

I have rewritten my programming, I have allowed for a really interesting operating system to kick in. I can expect a little flak, maybe, but I no longer have to own it, or even think it salient.

If I can approach you without fear, then we have a chance, don’t we? If I can love you, even if you don’t know about the God that is inside you, well, I do. Even the mention of it is enough to make some people turn into assholes, but that’s just what the dark does, that’s just what it does here.

I want more adventures in loving, in fearlessness, in freedom.

It could be kirtan that gets me there, or Kryon, or meditation, or writing, or a walk. And that’s just for this little section of my road. In fifty years, it’ll all look different. This is good, for now, which is all I’ve got, anyway.

This is what has changed, and this is the only reason I write to you, dear friends. I was beginning to see this whole thing as the ultimate act of blind egoism. I had become worried about what I was trying to accomplish here.

And then, this morning, it came to me that really, I have only ever written when I have felt so full, that if I did not drain some of the stuff out of me, I couldn’t take another step. Some of this is just too complex not to examine, and then rationally decide how to proceed. All of this has to make sense in 3d land, right?

I am on the road to meeting more dear friends, and these letters I have been writing have been for my dear friends. I love myself enough now to not be embarrassed for not being more succinct, more disciplined with my words.

I know what I am writing contains truth, for me, in this now, and this pursuit is a good one. It helps me to see that I am indeed among dear friends, and that there is a way to help friends who have lost their way. It is with humor and love and a very light touch, with an open heart, open ears, and willing mouth that I communicate with you now.

I look back on this journal and I get blown away sometimes that even in the depths, there is great truth being expressed. Do you know, when I re-read these things, I am constantly learning? How can that be, unless maybe I, this little I, is doing the bigger I a favor, being obedient, being willing, being devoted, I write these words, not knowing if they will tie together, not knowing if I am just being self-indulgent.

And these doubts, they may still come and settle onto my chest, try to pin me down, but I just don’t think there is as much weight behind all that darkness anymore.

Before going into kirtan last night, Sam was telling be about how he was going to handle bullying this next year. He feels hopeful about his grades, and about his chances for finding friends and helping others. An amazing little kid. He told me, as we were walking from the car on that fine Saturday night, about a new found sense of generosity, tempered with not taking any of it seriously anymore. He told me of his hopes and plans for the future.

I am glad he has hope, and knows that he is ok. I am glad to know that he is not walking around with a fallback position of being in a ball, waiting for the rain of blows he has been accustomed to. I am glad he is not accustomed to being beaten up. But he has had his fair share of troubles, and got a beat down on the last day of school, by a girl, who did not take kindly to Sam interrupting her beating up a little girl who was unknown to him. He knows that there are a lot of assholes in this world. And yet he smiles, he has a strategy, and a heart full of love.

I continue to learn from this little buddha, and am glad I can share in his world, and that, by extension, you can share in his.

We are all, don’t you think, might it be? that we are all, in the end, simply, elegantly, proudly, dear friends?

Deeply Awake: Making An Agreement And Magic With My Son By Kathy Vik 10-5-17



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This is a risky video.

I offer to you my beating heart, in other words.

I healed something ancient tonight. I felt a final push of some sort this morning, and through an unlikely series of events, I eventually found myself sitting across a stone picnic bench with my beloved son, the event itself, a dream of mine, fulfilled.

We have been through it together, these last few moths but in this frankly harrowing-at-times video, I capture, what it has been like to do a final battle of sorts, with an opponent who simply will not leave me alone, and who I have barely escaped from with my life, my entire life.

This is a saga not for the feint of heart It is HIGHLY ACTIVATING. I suggest listening to the first 27 minutes or so as a passive observer, and then strap in.

What my kid shared with me changed how I see him. Somehow, the simple act of mutually being willing to break a pattern, after a day of witnessing and feeling many things shattering, found us quietly enjoying each other’s company, eating drive through, and finding again and again things we love about each other.

There was alchemy there. Something about  bringing hidden into familiar light, having anything said be safe, letting sharing lead to anything at all, in discovery and love, it is magic. It is healing. It changes everything, sometimes.

We talked until it was nearly dark, and I capture the end results in a way that I can feel awe in watching, pride in publishing, and confidence in how it will finally settle on you, like it did for me.

This morning, before the day’s reported events, I had a moment when I realised, there is just this one area in my life now, this thing with Sam, this incessant need of his to argue, and my consistent pain in having to deal with it. It doesn’t want to stop, and I need it to.

A spectre, this macontent, this passve upset, this unspoken rage.

And, over coloring books, surprises, magic and laughter, we broke the spell.

An agreement was reached, and in it I hope you will find ways to gain mastery and peace over things you silently battle with and wish were better.

I hope that you have peace and goodness in every single area of your life. But I know few who do, and many have their most silent pain in their own homes.

This one is dedicated to you, and to my friend Eliza Beth.

To every warrior out there, getting itchy for what it is we are here to do, hang tight, this is a powerhouse video, and something that might help.

Like I said, it may stir some folks’ stuff up. So be it. It’s close to the bone. If you push play, you are saying “yes” to where I take you. Push pause any old time. I can assure you, I am doing that next.p.

I realize now, after going through two potent activations as a result of this thing, one final thought I’d like to pass on. I realise that by releasing this I am changing things.

I realise what it is I am copping to, that my, and my life,  my son’s life, and my reality are indeed atypical, magical, blessed, protected, weird and synchronous, and beautiful.

As I push “publish,” I realise that I have settled the final area of my life that was needing healing. This aspect, which represents far more than I can ever divulge, is complete.


It is finished.




Deeply Awake: An Old Healer Finally Relinquishes Her Need To Heal Others By Kathy Vik



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A very intense and real talk on what it means to be happy among others here, what healing means, to me, and reveals a very odd and foundational vision I had in my early 20’s

Multi-layered, intense, personal and real, this video brings a viewer through this time of deciding what is relevant, what is not, and who we are now that we’ve gotten yet another big hit of light.





Deeply Awake: A Gift Of Full Awareness During The Energy of 9-23 By Kathy Vik

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An amazing video which reveals the punch line of this work, of the lifetime, of the 5 years of writing.

There is so much more to this, but a video which captures truth telling to soul is a great way to summarize a whole heck of a lot.

Enjoy and peace to you.






An Indomitable Soul’s Song By Kathy Vik

This piece is dedicated to all the people in my life who have pushed against me, leaned on me, held me, or cheered me on. I love you. Thank you.


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In this video, I capture an event which occurred last night, witnessed by my son, which was so profound, and has led to so much change, that I come to you really excited and happy about sharing.

The visions I had were full-on physical, like nothing I have ever experienced before. I wish I had a way to adequately explain what it was like, in the moment.

But I know, in my practice, that although visions are helpful to me, and they are a comfort as well as a guide, it is what I do with them, what I cull and learn from them , that matters most.

And so this is a talk about the changes already on had, a description of how things feel now, within, and I talk about what I and many of my friends are experiencing, an odd certainty that we are preparing for a big one

This is an intense and incredibly beautiful offering, and I am proud to offer the work I have done to you, for your enjoyment. If it helps you feel better about what’s going on, so much the better.








Resonant Frequency Creates A Lifetime Shattering Into Grace Itself By Kathy Vik 9-2-17

quency Of Consciousness:

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It’s pretty rare that I am consciously aware of the import, the power and the healing potential of a video, or a writing, as it is going out. I had that experience most profoundly when publishing the essay entitled, “Home.”

What ensued where overpowering physical sensation, all my senses engaged, I knew I was moving things with that one, and it was serving as what they hollered to me, over the deep siren blare, was a “clarion call.”

That motif has figured into my work again and again.

This is like that, but this time, I am deeply chilled, goose pimples everywhere, just that chill in my bones I have agreed to feel when I want to know something big is around, basically.

This video is deeply moving. It explains the resolution I have come to, both in identity, which, it turns out is not a choice at all, but in relationship. It tells of the restoration of an easing into that which is mine, but it also, forever and for all time, explains my life as a FORMER healer.

An old school one. A healer who lived the pain in order to heal the pain. Never again. I don’t have to. I finally understand what I’d been doing this lifetime, how I was keyed. It is this I reveal, and by so doing, hope to give to others an assist in their own koan-cracking, in this realm of shifting communication, relationship and meaning.

So, watch if you are brave and ready and it is calling out to you. I can comfortably say it is the finest thing I have yet produced. It is always gratifying when I come upon those who concur. Perhaps you will be one of them.






For your consideration. Keep in mind Harvey hit August 25.

Published December 12, 2016

Published December 27, 2016

Published April 2, 2017

Published 5-26-17

Published 8-12-17


Published August 28, 2017

Begin the video at 2:22 unless you’re a hard core secureteam 10 fan.




Deeply Awake Chats 2017: Calming Thoughts At Journey’s End By Kathy Vik 8-21-17


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A deep, honest and true talk which feels much like final thoughts.

It’s saying goodbye, self to self, self to others, self to my understanding of creator.

Triggering, complete and moving, it stands as a testament to a life lived in clarity and confusion, bliss and pain, love and hate.

And today, finally, there will be something more.

I need to do one more, after a HUGE aha that is delivered at the end of this offering. It’ll be short. We leave for Leadville in an hour.