Deeply Awake — The Root Cause Of The Collective’s Psychosis By Kathy Vik 9-17-18

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Denial Is A Dissociative Device

Through my studies and personal experience, I have been led into the areas of mental health, mental illness, the meaning, cause and consequence of cruelty and neglect, as well as theories on energetic management, and thoughts, always, about what might be driving this thing.

Through the years and experience, I knew that there had to be an answer to the problems I was required to face, and a higher purpose to the pain, but until recently, I did not know what it could possibly be.

I have realized that there is a requirement inherent in the collective reality (dissociation) which, if undetected, can cause grave harm, and lead to a zombie-fied life. An inauthentic, troubled, angry life.

Sit back and plug in and think on these things that I bring to you today, me here with no malice in my heart, no anger left to toss at anyone, no suffering left to take on. My burdens are put down now. I don’t have to take them up again.

Through this process, I have seen the stupendous, unbelievable, personalized and sainted magnitude and beauty of the troubles I was in, as well as the larger purpose for the koans. It’s a stunning, panoramic view, and it’s from here I speak.

I am pleased with my current awarenesses, knowing there is more to come, but from here on out, it’ll be less spicy, and it’ll be easier, since I see and operate more willingly from an energetic level now.

I can hold all harmless now, as my attachment to outcome is finally weakened, my need to calm others appropriately holstered, and my need to be in the dark ever dissolving.

DEEPLY AWAKE – An Empath, A Narcissist and Jesus Walk Into A Bar By Kathy Vik 9-8-18

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DEEPLY AWAKE – An Empath, A Narcissist and Jesus Walk Into A Bar By Kathy Vik 9-8-18

http://www.kathyvik.com

I have had a prolonged silence, an interruption in expression, but this has been in place five months, now. I was given a simple explanation for the task at hand, but now that I have lived it out, I am stunned, once again, with the symbolic and benevolent nature of these otherworldly announcements, these personal, gentle and honest soul communications.

Without the warning, I wouldn’t have gotten all I needed out of the situation. Without the warning, I would have felt under siege, confused and abandoned. Although I am a lifelong skeptic, it just so happens that these messages I get are always reliable. Every time. I have never been lied to, messed with or tricked by my team. Ever.

Anyhow, this last period has been splendid, and more of a completion than I could have imagined. It’s not what I expected, but it’s everything I wanted. I recall visions I have had about this new time, when the sand clears from my vision as our gigantic sandstorm dies down, or as we move from a thick fog, or as our vision inexplicably goes from dim and distant to stunning and awe-worthy.

In a way, it is like that. I realize so clearly some core truths that I will refer to often, now that I finally see things for what they are.

A few years ago, Jesus came to me in a vision, to explain to me the main energetic problem of the times. I want to review it, and amplify it as I tell it from what I have been given this morning. It was much like the state I described above, where everything, literally everything is better, more solid and beautiful somehow, and yet it’s unexpected, un-envisioned, un-vision-boarded, and most decisively precisely opposite in many regards, that which was hoped for. And yet, it’s perfect, better suited to me than even I could have designed, because this structure is free of the blind spots my old structure took into account. This new one doesn’t have to. I am no longer blinded.

I had a meditation where I found myself a woman, in flowing coarse cloth, walking in between two other women similarly attired, each of us carrying surprisingly light, long clay pots. We were walking to the well to fetch water.

Up ahead, I saw him, and everything stopped for me. There, ahead of me, was Jesus. I knew this well before I was close. He glowed, somehow, a radiance coming from him that was intoxicating, and made my heart stop with longing and need.

I felt the curious sensations, the exquisite pain, as I imagined him living his daily life, needing this or that object, a piece of advice, a kind word, a show of support and adoration and acceptance. I realized, as this horribly, floridly vivid shearing pain seared my body and all my awareness, my face is not the face he will see each night, and my face is not what will greet him when he wakes, disturbed, rested, elated. I am not wanted. I am not this to him.

I felt such pain then… like nothing I had yet known. It was beyond hate, and it was beyond any love I had known, and all it could do, all I could do, was let it, consume me.

In a state of panic, feeling no possible release from this hatred for an unknown sister, and my shock and this overwhelming need and, yes, “love,” I cried out for help. In meditation I was stumbling around a black room suddenly, on fire with incurable, unfathomable pain.

Jesus appeared, to my left, just cool as you please, and said, “I can help you.”

He simply said, “Look at what is happening. It is the agreement of the age, and it causes a lot of problems.”

I looked onto that scene again, but instead of a desert scene, there were two human beings, two human forms. The one in complete adoration and terror was bending at her waist, and her crackling white column of considerable light was blasting Jesus.

Then he said, “Stand up.”

I saw the figure who had been bent over stand up, and as she did, her column was running straight up and down, smooth and white and happy, no longer bent, no longer so overpowering, no longer crackling.

He explained that this is the problem of the age, this running energy through others, rather than running straight up and down, as sovereign columns of light.

I saw the scene change then, and where once were these two, locked in a terrible struggle, there were many people, and they all were columns of light, all of them running straight up and down.

I turned to Jesus and said, I feel lonely. I don’t see how anyone is connected to anyone else, and although I like the idea, I don’t like the isolation. I feel so alone.

He smiled and he said, “Watch.”

His arm made a sweep of the place, and as he did, the place was filled with music, creativity, genuine affection, camaraderie, community, and the sharing was happening in colors, emitted from the white columns, streams of shining, crystal clear colors. It was no longer just verbal communication. What was happening was so complete, it felt so validating, there was no shame in the room, no false emotions whatsoever, and such inner peace.

I really thought I had unpacked this vision completely, having both written and recorded about it, and yet, just lately, I am understanding some fundamental truths which bear exposure and sharing. They are good thoughts, pure and true, and they are words of divine love, not the human distortion we have labeled love.

I’ll preface by telling you about an improbable thing that happened to me on the last eclipse of this triad, on August 11, 2018. It had been a scrambler, and so I spent it sitting in a forest, feeling quite undone, and strangely aware I was being put together somehow, just out of sight.

They were strong that day, with many signs and miracles, many creature visitors with messages, and at the end of a day of leisure, I headed for my car, parked a short distance away, at the base of a mountain.

I was told, toward the end of my walk, that at the bend, way down there, I would be stopping. I appreciated the abundant shade, and how close I would be, by then, to cold water and a comfortable seat. But there I was, at the end of that trudge, just coming into the shade, when a huge, and I do mean huge, bird flew past me, on my right, and winged into the tree immediately opposite me. A hedge of willow-like foliage 6 feet high separated us, but oddly, this humongous blue white bird creature was halfway up an old, massive spruce tree, in my center of vision.

Here’s a photo of my winged visitor…

At the time, I was only given words. Ibis. Phoenix. Traveler. Time traveler. Slipping through portals, like a ghost. Slipping through. Not of, not from. Apart and a part of every now.

It took me a while to garner all the gifts, but with a witness, and with contemplation and vision work, I understood, finally just who, or what that was. It is not native, and it is self-sufficient. It looked like a prehistoric bird, and its beak clacked a lot, as it opened and closed its ginormous snout-like beak. I did research, which confirmed the Egyptian roots to this visitor, which of course was the best way to finally, safely, happily relate to that energy within me.

But the punch line was, it visited to remind, to return to me, my beloved Cygnus, Deneb, the Ancient One, my home. My family had been visiting me, and it took a long time to finally get that. Once I did, I can assure you the love was thick and the celebration hearty, my gratitude once again a fountain, a gusher, of joy.

In nursing school I formulated the understanding that mental illness was mainly the disease of relationship, with self, with other, with “reality,” with Source, and almost incidentally, within social matrices. The life is impacted in certain ways when the bones or lungs or prostate are diseased, and the life is similarly impacted when the disease is relational.

I knew coherence, I could identify resonance with creator, with something so unimaginably pure and whole and good, since girlhood. This is one relationship which is immune to disease.

My work with Biological Decoding led me to realize it is the structure, the mainframe, which is diseased, because this physical reality construct is coded for conflict, pain, suffering, and silent despair. It are these events which trigger stop-the-world illnesses, accidents, injuries, and which have a hand in tooling chronic disease. All based in unconscious programming which is itself a song of discord, profound misunderstandings, separation and isolation.

Pretty much. I took a look a that, at the end of my Level One Biological Decoding training, and I realized, no one escapes this shit, some have their heads screwed on straighter than others, but every single one of us is effected by each other, by the conflicts we create and cure in each other, to our fundamental misinterpretations of self, of other, and of our creator. All of this is important to what was to come.

Awareness, consciousness, the willingness and ability to observe, these break the bonds of this thick, repetitive, tarry, wholly unconscious system. Conflicts disappear when seen from the level of their authors.

But being willing and able to see things from many points of view, this is a mark of an empath, a situational ethicist, and someone who can cut anyone slack. And this is a problem, when not mindful of how one’s own energy is running.

It has been said that this reality is one of service-to-self and service-to-others entities, or camps. And this seems far too often to be the case, since I think this is, in the end, the verbal shorthand for that vision I had, where I was bending and running all my awareness through someone else, for that moment utterly unaware of myself, and any greater reality. I existed, for those painful moments, only in relation to the OBJECT of my adoration, devotion and spectacular violence.

A service to others person will bend low and stay there, getting off on serving, getting off on sacrifice. And the one receiving this blast of energy? Oh, honey, that just makes a person lazy, dazed, dependent and weak.

Who, in this scenario, is the parasite, the “energetic vampire?”

This can only be answered, of course, within the context of the bending. Throughout my lifetime, I’ve had those around me who would only have me if I bent low and served. Jesus had me witnessing an inert Target for the blasting. However, many have become dependent on the power gradient requiring light dispensed. And many are specialists in making others bend very low indeed.

All that said, I’m describing my experience after a lifetime of having been tricked into the energetics of this kind of relationship, and I’ve been coerced, manipulated and threatened into bending low all my life, serving those who don’t deserve a second thought, simply because they manipulate.

As such, I can only report the experience of this unhealthiness from the point of view as the service-to-others role. The service-to-self stance was not my role this lifetime . It was my cross.

Even so, I would have to say it is the service to others person, the low-bender. And so, I stand and look at what Jesus gave me, this tableau so rich and meaningful and pregnant with meaning, and I laughed out loud, a couple days ago, awed at his depth and his respect, his trust and his certainty that I’ll get it, if I just keep at it.

I have heard it said that a narcissist’s core issue is with envy, described for clinical purposes as a primitive hatred, and that the empath’s core issue is that of pride, and their need to instill covert contracts involving “love.”

And yet, I as the lover, the adorer, the worshiper of Jesus, it was only in realizing I would never be a chosen one, that I was in no way special to him, that I turned to that envy, and the pain began. I rejoiced in how free and full my love was, until I realized I could not possess, I did not perhaps even want to be touched, I could not have access. It never dawned on me to consider whether I’d sought his consent, of course. And with that imagined abandonment, the hatred ate at me like acid.

Am I describing love? Narcissism? Devotion? Mental Illness?

Or is it instead a lesson, from someone who demonstrates mastery, about energetic management, ease of function, and inner peace?

What I do know is I am glad I have teachers who think higher than I can, and are willing to send me birds, and pictures, and messages which soothe as they instruct, because they bring things together, they bring with it the relief only mercy can, and they are so personalized that to deny them, at this point, would be a a torture from which I could not recover.

I know myself to be that ibis, that crane, that phoenix, that portal slipper, that traveler.

I know myself to be a friend of Jesus, who helps me when my thinking gets jammed up, or when I am about to hit a rough patch, or need a guardrail in my thinking.

I think what Jesus meant, when he told me that this bent up stuff was the problem of the age, what we are getting over, I think what he meant was something I couldn’t access until recently. I felt recognition when I first saw him on the dirt path. And that first spark of recognition ignited into a torrent of unbridled identification and selfish sacrifice that ran right into him, and this may very well have been my energy, my spark, my intention. I realize now that what was completely discarded was me.

As I bent and sucked and blasted, I did not exist. All that did exist was him. In that primitive place of bonding, well, it is a holy temple, after all. There is nothing like staring into an cherished infant or lover’s eyes and feeling the whirl of two galaxies merging. And yet, in that swirl of recognition, of relief, of HOME, if there is an abdication, a forgetting, then a fracturing occurs.

Maybe what he was trying to say is that we have forgotten or selves. The command was to stand up, and in so doing, the loneliness and isolation I felt was like pin pricks, it took my breath away, and I felt ice where I had been on fire.

He had to show me just how connected I actually am with every “living” thing. In standing up straight, I was able to feel ALL of it, not just one cherished person’s reality. I realized I wasn’t having my experience THROUGH another, I was having MY OWN experience.

The trouble of the age, huh?

All that smack about finding your one true love, all that talk about the brass ring, making it, succeeding, being number one?

I know how competitive, how nearly homicidally enraged I was at not being Jesus’ eye candy, hand holder, platitude spewer. In that state, I wasn’t good for much. All I wanted to do was brush his hair and tell him everything was gonna be ok, and I wanted him to make the world go away and braid my hair.

Not healthy. But very understandable.

Just think of the way we think of relationships, crushes, marriage, commitment, and how these concepts translate so very poorly at present, the trampling and abdication of free will being the hot potato of all conflict, and I think it’s safe to say that this culture doesn’t have state of the art judgment when it comes to relating to each other.

I am realizing more and more that standing up means letting every single person have their own interpretation, their own reality. Living my belief that everyone has a team, that no one is disconnected, but that everyone feels they are, these concepts shoot competition, comparing, envy and pride dead.

This core concept of free will is no small thing.

And so I think I will end this with this free will concept. We hear that the ET’s have a rule of non-interference, because they abide by free will. And yet, I am living proof that it’s not considered cheating to have a relationship with my source of all good, and some of Source’s representatives are indeed ET, as am I, and as are you, most likely. My intention is my will. Those who thwart or do not recognize my free will are engaging in the trouble of the age, as I had, as we all have.

What is required now is not to puzzle the whys anymore. The time of cleverness and coherent explanations are part of my DNA now, a bass note in the riffing I do now. There is a bigger wisdom now, which informs my thoughts, guides my actions and moves my reality, now. It’s one in which I, me, myself, am actually part of the equation. The restoration is in connecting with the only true source of knowledge, wisdom, truth and light for me. I’m only talking about me, here.

I realize that in my wounded places, this inauthentic, plastic, battered self is always present, and I do think that with time it is she who is being healed and welcomed home to rest. This scared one, constantly measuring the impact of every word that is said. In a room of twenty talkative people, you can imagine how much is being processed, now. It is no longer possible to run my energy splayed like that anymore, a harried mother, a constant gardener, seeking out disharmony like they are weeds. Just because I can soothe it, I try, while stumbling and bleeding on the sharp corners of other people’s minds. I gave myself away to the pained, the worried, the angry, the punitive, abandoning and denying myself.

It’s time to re-adjust.

Of course, it is that scary place of loneliness which must be addressed to close, that weird, faintly clinical place I felt once I stood up straight. I felt disconnected, even though I was, at long last, finally actually reconnected with nourishment.

It felt different. It was not intense. It was gentle. It felt complete. It felt quiet. Not sterile, and not scary, really, just very quiet, still, pleasantly so. This was before the colors, before the new kind of connecting. And it is this place, this odd place of pseudo-disconnection which I am popping out of now. I want to explore this new way of communicating more fully, more comprehensively, and more safely than has ever been possible.

So, I am standing up straighter more often, now, and I am more keenly aware of the triggers which create that bond of servitude, of false connection, of panic and forgetting and need. I know that place well. But it is a full on pain event feeling even glimmers of it now, and I intend to keep it that way. There are some experiences which I want to remain awful, so that I can avoid them, just by their fetid odor, knowing it is then I must apply my awareness to something far greater than a bogus, adrenaline fueled interpersonal threat.

Obviously that has always been the point, to not be disabled around behaviors which, for me, act like huge magnets, knocking out my signal, rendering me a gray rock, or a quivering mass of anxiety, or apoplectic with righteous indignation. Whatever the affective state or behavior cluster, I have termed this state being disabled, because I check out, and a false self goes through the motions. I notice that the effect can be massive or weak, but the disablement is real. I’ve actually complained about it, noticed it, for a while now, and until this time, I didn’t understand it is nothing but a trauma response, a coping strategy, a glitch in the wiring. I am aware that some of the healing is on a neuro-biologic level, and this I have given permission for since the beginning. The point, for me, is ascension, which is, for me, DNA activation, waking up, coming to, becoming functional, shaking off the nonsense.

Well, as always, I intended to stop a while back, but the words poured out and I enjoyed every minute of it.

I guess the way I really should end this is in telling you how much peace I am feeling by simply owning who I am, what I have become, how I understand stuff, and how I approach life.

The most disowned and abandoned part of myself, Deeply Awake, has stood by, stalwart and sure of herself, as I have argued and protested and denied this part of me. And at the end of this long road, I have come to see this is the most fundamental of clues that something is off.

That is the original fracture, right there. And as my original sin, my doubt, burns off, as my shame falls away, as my suspicion crumbles, I am feeling, finally, sated and well-loved. By whom? By me, the totality of me, which includes me personality, me the traveler, me the author, and me the inner child. But more. By me the silver goddess, me that shining, gold light I know as God, me as earth, me as creatures around me, as the weather, and circumstance this hour.

The blah-blah, the general warning has always been, well, I know I am going to be dragged into it again, so I’m glad I left a bread crumb like this. But now, it’s really now that way, anymore. I know it is a choice, if I bend low and blast. I know it is a choice if I pick an argument with my God, and by extension, my reality. I know it is envy and pride which keeps me in service, in fear and in distress. I know it is that divine love from Source, innervating all, that brings be and keeps me in balance, in good humor, and in hope. And I know it is in talking, sharing, giving, that I rise, spitting in the eye the monsters I have had a hand in strengthening, because I was bored, and didn’t know any better, until, one day, I did.

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it gets bigger.

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

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

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

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

Karma for one, please.

How do you break karma?

You love everything any way. You find a way.

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

That’s just the structure.

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

That’s how it’s done.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I don’t know how to explain it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And here we are.

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

Enemy mine.

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

Enemy mine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It blew my mind.

I am a blend.

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

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

Closed systems die.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That is what I have come to break.

That is what I have come to heal.

That is what I have come to love.

And release.

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

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

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

It must be earned.”

Well, that’s just a construct.

No, it doesn’t, you dork.

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

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

Enemy mine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that’s consistent with my role.

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

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

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

Enemy mine.

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

Love your enemy.

Enemy mine.

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

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

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

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

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

Enemy mine.

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

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

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

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

I’ve been describing it.

I’ve been living it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, where is this enemy of mine?

Still here.

Still here. Within me.

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

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

That’s all it knows.

Well, that and tweaking. Unbelievable.

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

But, you know what?

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

Enemy mine.

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

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

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

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

It’s very odd.

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

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

OK.

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

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

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

Enemy mine.

I am that which I fear.

I am my own destroyer.

I am paradox.

I am a singularity.

And I am the creative essence.

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

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

You. Can’t. Make. Me.

Interesting.

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

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

And I am my enemy.

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

I love my enemy.

I love my Self.

And I love you.

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

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

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

Love your enemy.

Enemy mine.

SEYLAH.

 

 

Deeply Awake — 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.

Seylah

 

 

 

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.

Crikey.

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.

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.

Programming.

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.

Shit.

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.

Hmm.

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.

Ha!

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?