Deeply Awake — Notes From A Recovering Spiritualist By Kathy Vik 3-19-18

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A fun video greeting from the land of recovery, I offer my thoughts on starting over, the new energy and how it is helping us clear the stuff that trips us up, and other subjects in a way that is soft, helpful and not too complex. I hope you enjoy!



As referenced, Kryon’s latest channel, entitled “Akashic Evolution”

Deeply Awake — To Participate 12-27-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — To Participate 12-27-13 By Kathy Vik

I have gone many places this morning, here in my little apartment, in the hours between my waking up and my kid waking up. Silent, busy hours, in which I have understood many things, things I want to tell you about.

I woke up remembering a dream that felt very good, and had good things to teach. I had been married to Bradley Cooper, and I had just had a fight with him. He had done something that signaled to me that he was flirting, or engaging someone else. I’d felt he didn’t love me, that I had been wrong.

Then I was in a dried up swimming pool (there is no reason to add some of these details, except for them being funny) with my ex-husband, William Katt, an amalgam. I was lying on a chaise lounge reading a book, red and black cover, “What To Do When Your Marriage Is Failing.”

I had been reading it as a review of the marriage I’d come from, with a user, someone who used the me I presented, instead of loving the me I presented. But Bradley saw this scenario, and he got very, very upset.

Just as I had, he was assuming something that was completely incorrect. He was assuming I was telling my ex-husband that my current marriage was failing. I let him bluster and blow, and he was quite loud and melodramatic.

And then I realized something, and told him about it.

I realized that he was angry and scared for the same reason I had been angry and scared with him earlier. We were each assuming the other did not love us completely, or well, or truly. We were afraid we were wrong about being loved.

And I realized, and said, this is the last time that either of us are going to have to do this running around yelling and crying thing.

I love you.

You love me.

I mean, it was in my core, that I loved this guy, connected and adored, respected and loved. And the way he had acted toward me when I’d had my blow out had shown me that I had been completely incorrect in my bad assumptions.

He loved me this way, the way I love him.

And so, it was clear to both of us that this questioning we had carried with us, the never quite knowing for sure where the other stood, that this was done and over, and would never be a factor again. We were solid. We loved each other.

And then, I had a phone call from my handler at the nursing agency, and we talked a bit, and he chastised me for not being uber compliant with my corporate masters, meaning, how dare I presume to ask for a weekend off now that they have deigned to offer me a job, and I just shrugged and said, if it’s a deal breaker, it’s a deal breaker.

We were negotiating whether I’d be granted permission to have time off to go see my mentor, my guide, my guru, Kryon. We won’t be arguing about this. It’s going to be fine. When I put in my order for the tickets, my account balance came back $333.42. A wink from spirit, saying, we’ve got this. You did the right thing. Your presence has been expected.

So we had a good conversation, left it in a good way, the “Hey, I thought you were the one who needed the work,” comment left to die of asphyxiation there on the ground between us, and then, I thought, this calls for watching the very end of Silver Linings Playbook.. I saw the scene, in my head, where I should start. And so coffee was bred, slippers were fetched, and I finished up my dream.

What I realized, as I watched the finals scenes, are many fold, but I will try for a succinct delivery. First, is the thought I first had when coming out of my NDE. I understood, and wrote, that the point is to participate. All is for naught, or has less value, if I do not participate. To participate enlivens it all.

I thought, as the movie played, that my stance has long been one of unwillingness, of resentment that has now been ground down to simple weariness. Sometimes the world is too much with me, invading my thoughts with all the closed fists and closed minds I hear about in the news.

For example, I read something yesterday which still reverberates. The Republicans, it is said, are slightly ahead in polling about the 2014 election. Slightly ahead with the populace.

And this is the most disturbing thing I think I read, although there were many disturbing things on the feed yesterday. I have unfriended a bunch of news/alt news groups. Things are just too tilty out there. And yet, here is the worst of it somehow. I want to know how this is possible, and how it is that these haters get anyone to come to one of their rallies. They drip fear and contempt, and yet, they have followers. It really disturbs me.

And I am thinking about this too, watching the movie, and this is my first thought. I have always been an introvert, a deep thinker, a philosopher, with a tender heart and sharp mind. I haven’t missed much, I’ll tell you. And like so many of my family, I have felt oddly, silently apart from others. Invisible, usually, but they’re all the same, some sort of bubble or barrier.

And I worked, finally, on myself, diligently and persistently, and with great effect, the last two years, and I emerge now knowing one thing above all others, that I am love, that I love, that I am loving and lovable.

And therein lied the dissonance, really, always.

I felt, I realized this morning, unloved. I did. Unloved. I assumed I was unloved. I assumed this, and it became part of my awareness.

There was always this fight, the loving one against the unloving, the selfish, the unthinking, the crude, the rude, the angry, the withholding, the judging, oh my god the judging ones.

And so, this play of light and dark, of contrasts, went on and on, until I brought it into myself, you see.

I realized that I am loveable. And the question then became, for me (as it always had been, but never really articulated), well, then, what about them? If I am lovable, and they are mean or they ignore me, or blow me off, or tell me to be quiet, can they love? Do they love? Are they capable?

And then, this morning, everything did a backflip. I was transported, the whole room glittery, my heart and body feeling such expansion and joy, when it hit me, all at once, people love me.

They always have.

Other people can love, they are capable of it. And it felt like they couldn’t, but here is why. Love in the physical, it’s about showing up. Showing up. Participating and showing up. And I don’t mean to imply by that that this sort of loving participation is all about activities, or get-togethers. No. It’s about showing up in genuineness, in a full heart, and from there, doing as much as seems appropriate.

I thought on the ones in my life who have given me the most trouble, and realized, the frustration comes in them not wanting to show up in the areas of my life which matter the most to me, or even worse, judging me as I stand there in my fullness, my honesty, and telling me I don’t measure up.

That’s it.

And just like in the dream, this is the case of someone doing something which one can easily assign an exactly incorrect motivation for. I assumed I had not been loved. Bradley Cooper, my husband ( I couldn’t resist writing that!) had also assumed I did not love him, when I knew, rock solid knew, that wasn’t so.

I remember in the dream, I kept my mouth shut as he gestured wildly and was upset, smiling, I was, and sort of glowing with love, because I knew something he did not. There was no need to defend, to get in there and try and convince him.

It was something he needed to get out of his system, and it really had nothing to do with me, as I saw it. I loved him, and he was reading things with a bias that told him he was unloved, and maybe he even was pacing with that hairy, smelly monster who just loves to bellow at its prey, “You’re not only unloved, you are unlovable!”

I understood, watching the characters ready for their dance number in Silver Linings Playbook, that I am not only loved, but I am loveable.

And then it hit me, and this is not the nicest thought to admit to, that I have not really shown up for others all that much. How could I, convinced as I was that no one loved me, or was even capable of love.

I had made a nice thick wall I could only hear distant rumbling through. I had built a wall of inferiority and superiority, depending on the person and the situation, and I had repeatedly and with much diligence made it pretty hard to even find me, much less love me, because I really really really don’t participate.

I opted out of much socialization years ago, because my heart breaks so easily, and still, people went out of their way to break it. It was like a blood sport, no one seeing the love, people so ego driven, and I see it now, I was one of them, I was, I was just as defended and scared as everybody else.

And just as in the dream, I say these words so that they never have to be said again. I was held, this morning, in loving and forgiving arms, and I have come to understand, first and foremost, that I am loved.

Even the ones who are critical, those who tell us all, hey, fend for yourselves, figure it out, sink or swim. That whole mentality is what is thankfully dissolving, the one that says that as long as I have mine, there is no need to worry about you, that is the one that needs to be retried.

It is unloving, and tricks people into thinking they are unloved, and then, it sets in, the poison finds its mark, and we believe we are unlovable, abandoned, our survival tenuous, dependent on those who don’t even see us when they look into our eyes. Am I talking about your boss? Your senator? Your wife? Your dad? Yourself, as you gaze into the mirror?

The assumption, for me, had been that I was unloved. I felt unloved, and convinced myself that what were actually awkward attempts to be loving I misinterpreted, because I had a belief, a bias, a seeming irrefutable knowledge about how things were.

And so, I finished watching the movie, and realized that showing up, participating, this is what it’s about for me now, and I can do it now, because, I have now figured out that even when it looks as if I am unloved, I am loved.

Even if I am bumped around, I am loved. Even when I am told to do something which is debasing or even apparently contemptuous, I am loved. I am loved. I am loved.

And so, for me, it is and will be about showing up, no matter where I am, with an open heart, dwelling within this core I have come to know, and knowing that the other, however they present, comes from this core of love too.

And then, I understood the finer points to it.

I had a friend who would say, When Jesus rose from the dead, he didn’t go out searching for the Roman barracks, you know. He sought out his friends.

This has been a key thing in my life. Loving everybody, everybody, regardless, everybody. This indwelling need, function, to forgive, at all costs. I didn’t know how to manage it until now.

It’s about showing up. It’s about participation. It’s about not being judged. I have ones who are close to me. We are family to each other, and we know it. We loved each other, and, for our purposes, that means we accept everything, judge nothing, celebrate the little things, encourage each other, and give each other a ton of space. We see each other rarely, but we love each other in a way that is so thick.

And to enhance my lie, to change it from this little one I am emerging from into a bigger one that can contain more ease and joy, I see now that it is finding those who can show up, who can love and not judge, who can laugh and cry and bellow and be still, those who speak what is in their hearts, some without saying a word. Showing up.

And it is about respectfully disengagement from those who cannot, will not show up, those who stand in judgment, let them, but don’t hang out with them all that much. Love them, bless them, and walk away, loving them from afar, as an act of self-love, and self-acceptance.

I am not saying that those who are judgmental, or mean or even abusive should be ignored. Far from it. But engaging in that sort of nonsense, well, that is optional.

If the game must be played on a crooked board, where the rules are rigid and the outcome is assured for only one of the participants, that just doesn’t interest me anymore. It is boring, it is old, it is outdated, small, uncomfortable, no longer attractive.

I think this is what is meant with the crossing of this bridge, a bridge over which the old energy cannot pass, the unloving energy so entranced with darkness, it cannot come and stand on this fertile new ground. I have nothing but compassion for those who don’t want to, feel they cannot, who choose not to come over, but it does not mean that I will cross back over that bridge and live denying this light, this knowledge, of all this love. I did that. Many of us did. Many of us are just now crossing the bridge.

Before preparing to write this I thought on the ones who have made things hard thus far and was filled with love, because, the truth is, they give me trouble, but there they are, in my life, showing up, participating. They are in my life purposefully, up until now.

And the days of contrasts such as these is passing. I have felt so tremendously different since yesterday morning, so clear, and it has not been the easiest to navigate some of it, but there have been synchronous gifts throughout, multiples on my clocks and odd timing and ease and an absence of worry and pain, throughout.

So I think that participating in what I am creating is the piece that can now fall into place.

I had gone to sleep asking for help about removing for all time this sense of futility and this sense of not liking the culture I live in all that much. How mean and petty it seems people have gotten, everyone doing things they would rather not do, because they are afraid of losing their jobs.

Oh the things we do to each other in the name of fearing for our jobs, fearing “negative feedback,” fearing bad evaluations, fearing, fearing, fearing. I am tired of that. I want to lay it down. Remove this from me, I said, the coldness that I feel sometimes, out and about, in my culture. Remove this.

And today, a dream about Bradley Cooper and love. Being able to get it, by watching a simple movie, that everyone, even the weird ones, they love me. They all love me. And I have made it real, real hard to be loved. I have not accepted it when int has been offered, I have argued with it, minimized it, and sent it running, often times, so convinced was I that it wasn’t even possible.

I have said for over five years, out loud, at the oddest times, to myself, always only to myself, that this life I am living is too small for me.

I’d thought that the outsides would change to reflect my inner bigness. That makes sense, right? When you outgrow a house, you buy a new one, right? The outside would change, and then everything would match.

And although of course this too will come to pass, the miracles, the dead on synchronicities which will be unmistakably miraculous, these will come because the inside has changed, once and for all, a new octave reached, a new vibration set.

I will end by telling you about this recurring thought of mine. I think I wrote about it, a dream I had that told me why it was that we can have hope. I keep getting it though, a vision and feelings and thoughts which tell me that the field has cleared. I feel this golden field out in front of me, all around me now, and this one is filled with benevolence, miracles, laughter, high regard, symmetry, luck, goodwill, kindnesses, a million kindnesses, smiling, all smiling and welcoming, this field that is just a gold mist, but contains everything that is good.

It is out there, and I understand that as I reach its vibration, it is just simple physics that this is what my life is and will ever be. This is physics at its most elegant, like meeting like and dancing, ball gowns and glitter, ease and grace, style and opulent geld, this field is here, coming closer daily, and I am matching it.

As I inhabit this field, it can manifest. I keep getting that, and I want to write it, because that makes it more real. Also, I am aware that there are many who are having these sorts of dreams. I had correspondence with two other women who had had very similar dreams of mastery over Christmas Day night.

Mine had been with the words accomplished, and a sense of completion. One friend heard “Mastery” I think, and the other had been told that she had mastered her life. This is real, guys, it’s happening, and maybe this field is what is calling us all, and these dreams are just interpretations of the light, just as Sam taught me this could be done. There is an essay called “My son Sam Demonstrates” that discusses this phenomenon.

I understand that this next part is as much about holding a vibration as it is about receiving this vibration’s gifts. And maybe being able to receive is the whole point. Having been conditioned to suspect and sniff around love, find fault with it and judge it unworthy, this too must change, to increase a life’s happiness.

And this receiving, it has nothing to do with worth. Nothing. It has to do with fit, with acceptance, with smiling and relaxing and letting good come, and not finding fault with it.

Taking the fall-back position of not only knowing I am a loving person, but that everyone I interact with is also loving. Some do things that make no sense, and they deny their great love, and so, they act badly, but they, too, are coming to me with love. Everyone is loving.

What a miracle! What a gift! What a change!

And now, I must get this published. I have things to do today. I need to show up. I want to participate.



Deeply Awake — Seeing Through My Soul’s Eyes, Now And Forever By Kathy Vik 1-30-18

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Deeply Awake — Seeing Through My Soul’s Eyes, Now And Forever By Kathy Vik 1-30-18

In celebration of an anniversary of an unbelievable, bizarre and final event that occurred a year ago. This is a soft, intense and highly esoteric tape, well sculpted and highly visual in its language.

I hope you enjoy this offering, about galactic awareness, contained within a physical consciousness, expressed and understood in daily life.






Magenta Pixie’s Offering about The Bird Tribe:

Background Music provided by:



Today, I am also including a nearly 2 year old video’d channeling and my website’s description of this transmission. I am including this because it feels appropriate to the recent work I have been doing, and because I found it very soothing and informative.


Deeply Awake — “A Physics Which Does Not Argue With Itself” 10-15-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — “A Physics Which Does Not Argue With Itself” 10-15-13 By Kathy Vik

I preface this essay by telling you that this phrase, the title of this work, is from Kryon. He said once that God is a physics which does not argue with itself. I felt this to be the truest thing I have ever heard.

It helped makes sense of how I could have had so many teachers, and I have read so much, and yet, it’s all one message. There is a truth that runs through things. It doesn’t argue with itself, and oh! How I looked for any chink in the armor, any inconsistencies, when working with The Teachers, when working for my boss Marge, when in the midst of angels, there is no argument. None. Everything sort of gets still in the midst of that sort of energy. Clear. So, thank you, SisterBrother Kryon, and profound thanks to Lee Carroll for, as always, bringing me into greater and greater truths, more and more ecstasy, and providing unending, infinite homecomings to us all.

I woke up this morning, and watched it, in a detached way.

First, the blinking, the slow-slow-quick sort of coming-on-line that I have in my awareness upon awakening, and then, plop, plop, plop, one by one my “circumstances” seem to get plunked down in my awareness, sort of like, I am in my apartment, it is mid-week (never too sure of the day…), here are my cats, and then, the emotional overlays, this is how I am feeling about this situation, and oh yeah, here is how I am handling that situation, that construct. It all gets filled in sort of like a video game being repopulated.

And then the tremendous heat. I realized last night, I am sort of seeing a pattern to the heat now. Always when I wake up. Strongest then. Even from a nap, there it comes, the heat. It precedes those severe episodes, sort of consumes me then. The voices told me it was the love of god. I am beginning to think they might be right.

Upon getting out of bed, I physically felt as if I was cleaved, and that the me who was observing was about 9 feet tall, sort of physical, but behind and above the physical body. It was nice. I went potty feeling that. I observed the act, I experienced the act, but I also was above, non-physical, aware.

This part of me could, I realized, just sort of vanish from the girl’s awareness, the one on the pot. That person, she does not have to feel this extra layer. The layer is always there. It was just really nice having a buddy to go to the bathroom with.

I decided to read my very first essay, Judas Energy, to start the day. I’d talked to a lady from Hay House Self Publishing Division yesterday, and I’d mentioned to her that I had started this writing career in late March, 2012, with an essay called Judas Energy.

Just an aside, although I love this writing enough to gladly spend time re-reading what I have written, I visit the older stuff always with just a little bit of trepidation. I’d like to say I don’t, but I know how unconscious I was, or felt, at that time, and I really don’t remember a lot of what I have written, so stumbling upon an essay that is a year and a half old, I approach it with just a kernel of curiosity, that when I reread it, now, it will read like I wrote it in crayon or had brain damage.

And there it was, sparkling and ready for me. Judas Energy. It talked about the encounter I had with the Eye of God in my living room. It was all about forgiveness and the love of God. Shining not only through the words, but through the structure. Not shining, though. Not really. Blazing with the love of God.

And I realized this morning, I got it, I really did, that this is good. I have reached a level of understanding that I don’t anticipate is there,but there it is. It seems this writing has a code within it that I did not know about. The stuff that is older works for me now, teaches me now, and that made me very happy.

Halfway through the essay, I got a tremendous hit of light, so much so that the heat took me away. I could do nothing but comply. I closed my eyes, began breathing intentionally, and allowed the heat to inhabit, define, guide me.

I felt, in my head, a silver lotus blossoming. It was little at first, but it was pretty, sort of twinkling.

I kept thinking, gee, I want to do something with my heart. I’d like to have this go into my heart. Try as I may, nothing happened. But I felt that there was a silver rod, which turned bright white, and became a rod which opened into a pillar, a column, right through the center of me.

This felt good, because I felt a connection, then with the Earth, with the ground beneath me, all the way down to the center of the earth, all the way up. In my travels, I have gone to where it bends, and comes back, and I am opposite where I started from, but in the same place. Hard to explain. But I digress.

Next, I focused again on my heart, and again was dissatisfied.

I was then urged to hold my palms out in front of me, not touching, just holding them out, as if I had a delicate flower resting on my fingertips, my palms.

And I thought, gee, this is sort of sad, because my hands are empty. This is no good, not a good metaphor to engage in.

And I was told, well, you can’t see the flower in your head either, but it doesn’t mean it’s not there.

And then, my hands had a lotus in them.

And then my feet were standing inside a silver lotus.

And I felt connect then. I felt there was a triad of energy, somehow, or of beauty, and I somehow felt connected to myself, and to everything, there, sitting on my bed, eyes closed, hands out, empty.

Then, I thought about all the stricture of thought, all the misinterpretations which I truly needed to believe, and all the pain and sadness and depression which accompanied thinking these dumb thoughts. I began to understand that to my right, there was a land which was dark, barely lit, and people scurried to and fro there, never seeing the other, always angry or upset or in turmoil, never loving the self. And then, separated by a partition, was a land of light.

I felt I was watching it unfold in front of me, me there in the middle point, perfectly situated, between this dark place and this amazing golden place.

Mind you, these were worlds, not rooms. Worlds.

And I realized that there was a wall, just one wall, separating the two realities. I then imagined that there were hundred of doors embedded in the wall. The doors were closed, and the world to the right, the dark one, stayed dark.

I thought about how it felt to be living in that darker world. I could feel the sadness, the anger, the frustrations and the worries. I could see how all of those feelings wold have to feel real, since there was no contrast, nothing to compare or argue with it.

So, I moved my consciousness into the bright world, and I decided I’d like to open the doors.

I felt that I had the power and ability to just crash open the whole wall. I considered it. But I decided that was probably too much.

So, all at once, all at once, I opened the doors. Some just cracked, some swung open of their own accord, but all of them opened up, all the doors opened, all at once, into the darker place.

I sent, then, that golden light I love, the one that whispers that burdens are optional, pain is misunderstanding, and all is love into the darker place. I didn’t stick around. I didn’t have to.

I came back, in the end, to the rod of light running through me. I could feel it coursing through me like a forceful geyser, a waterfall, a full and confident river, unable to consider questions of supply or future.

I did not really wish to be in the light place, or the dark place. I said, over and over, after I finally realized what was happening, I said, I just want to be this light. That is all I want. I want to be this light. Is that ok?”

This light, it makes everything right. It sees all, understands and truly is wisdom and compassionate, it is benevolence itself, and is all. There can be no troubles, no worries, no pain, in this light. It just is not possible.

I want to be that light. I don’t care about outcomes, and at this point, getting published, pursuing goals, making my way into our subculture, oh, none of it, none of it, none of it matters.

All of that comes FROM the light, you see?

And so, I just stayed in that light. I do not know why the color silver is so prevalent in my meditations. I have never really enjoyed or worked with this color before. It never interested me before. And now, here it is, in so many meditations. Maybe it is silver because it is so shiny. I really don’t know. Maybe it’s platinum. I just had to delete the last sentence, because the cap lock mysteriously went on when I wrote maybe it’s platinum. Interesting. I don’t know anything about that.

The only other thought I had on this mediation is that, since awakening, I have had a profound lack of emotionality, the baser of them, the worry, low-grade anxiety and the self-talk, needling and pushing and prodding me. All of that, quieted.

In meditation, the only emotions I had were joy, homecoming, happiness. Once I got the three lotuses going, and had visions of other lotuses within me getting colorful and spinning, I felt a lightening of overall countenance. And then, when I stayed within the light, I wept. It feels so good. It is home. It is home. It is home. It is beyond, far beyond happiness, and the word love is a matchstick compared to the bonfire I had become.

So, to close, I will tell you about what just happened. It sort of took me by surprise.

I had understood, while exiting meditation, that I would channel next. It felt right, and the light had something to say. I tried, got to a very deep state, and then something unexpected happened.

Deep enough, I knew I could speak to anybody I wanted to, and I wanted to look into Jesus’ eyes, his face, as I so often do. I feel such an intimate bond with him. He is a loved one, a revered, respected, loved one. I honor him. I love him. I know him.

And he came to me. I call him Jeshua ben Jeshua and I guess that’s wrong, but that is his name, for me.

I love him so desperately. I decided that I would finally take a look at that, ask him about it. Why do I sometimes feel the love that is just so heart crushing, so passionate? It is so full of longing. It is sort of sad, that band of love I feel for him. It is just one of the things I feel, but there it was, to feel once again. Why not ask about it? So I asked, What is that all about?

What I saw was that, although I have, from time to time taken on the persona of his wife, Mary, and felt this was my role with him, an elder in the community, one of his teachers, I resonated with that for a long time, there was somehow more to it.

It was that other love, the unrequited one that I found I was not being able to shake. And then I understood myself to be not Mary, but another. I do not wish to go to her and ask more about this chapter of my consciousness, I just don’t like the whole scene. It’s still a little hot. I need to run some violet through it I guess.

Anyway, there I was, dressed in the style of the day, with two other women, all of us with vases or big jars, and there was Jesus. I felt an instant connection, one of devotee, because I knew I did not deserve him. I was in love with him.

I realized that I had carried with me a weird longing, and behavioral, relationship pattern that really just got me into a whole lot of sad messes. I have never, and I do mean this quite literally, I have never been in a love relationship with anyone, I just laugh out loud when I admit this, not once have I been in relationship with someone who was not in love with another.

Honest to God.

And this longing, this Why can’t you devote yourself solely to me, what is wrong with me? Thing that I have always sort of struggled with, there it was, full blown, in dusty old Jerusalem.

Holy crap.

I realized that I grieved, physically grieved, that I was not the one that my beloved woke up to. It was not I who was privileged with his every thought, every word, every need. I hurt, I swooned, feeling this intense and absolutely earned love not returned as I so desperately wanted it to be.

I felt it. Real hard and good.

I cried.

And then I asked for help.

I didn’t know what to do. I’d settled down intending, speaking intention for the highest love light and sound to come to and through me, through my fingertips, clear and loving and pure, the great central sun, my beloved. And this is what I got.

So I stayed with it, and I cried some more, and I asked for help again and again.

And then Jeshua came to me. He looked me in the eyes. He put his hands on my shoulders. And he showed me the problem.

It was then that I wept again, when I realized what he was showing me, with his hands, with his heart, with his mind. I had not believed myself worthy of this love. I had not been able to conceive that I loved him so much because I saw in him that which was inside of me.

He then pointed out an energetic fact. He had me look. And there I was, bending down, running my light to and through him.

My light, my life force, my beingness, I had bent it somehow, and was feeding it to him, being fed, strangely not by him but by source, but by source through him.

It was a weird circuit. I did not like the look of it. It was unnatural. It had a nauseating quality.

And then, wordlessly, he showed me that I was now unbent. I was running straight, up and down, like him. And he was very pleased with this.

Our relationship changed then. I was no longer this weird wound of need, and he was no longer my messiah.

I was his companion, his equal, his friend. We were running these vast columns of light, the two of us, the lot of us, I guess, and the symmetry, the light, it is almost orgasmic. It has that quality to it, when it runs so strong and straight and pure. This is beyond joy, beyond love, beyond brotherhood. It is ecstasy, it is stillness, it is bliss, it is balance and symmetry and it is the physics which does not, cannot argue with itself.

This was, he told me, embodying ones own soul. And then, it was then that I realized that it is in this state that true unions, like Jesus’ and Mary’s occur. In this space, I could see their hearts, their energetic hearts, come toward each other and then merge. It was a beautiful sight. I saw it happen all around me, and I felt it with others. We were connected, then, somehow, and worship, adoration, clinging, cloying, timid love, it is something to feel compassion and gentleness toward. And that is all.

So I am thinking that this was a good meditation, and probably channeling isn’t necessary today. I think one was the other, today.

I feel better. I feel stronger, and I like the idea that it is indeed possible to experience the sort of love I always hoped was possible. It happens among those who are running straight, not bent. Friendship, kinship, this is how it plays, I think. I can feel some folks’ need from a mile away. I know that need. I was that need. And now I know the antidote. I cannot tell you how elated that makes me… it is sort of miraculous.

I am always looking for shortcuts, and really really easy ways to get back on track, because in my physical life, I can get fairly distracted and forgetful… I like to say that if I get any looser, parts are gonna fall off. Anyway,I forget things pretty easy, especially when I am not mindful and fear comes knocking.

How nice to know that the change in mood state is columns of light, one with a swirling face of Jesus on it? Who knew?

I’m gonna try this out for awhile and see if it helps, when I start getting all scared and freaked out about the little things, which, anymore is sort of rare, but when it hits, oh my god it is unrelenting. Last time it happened was a sneak attack, waking up at 2am on Friday night, for some reason in a panic about my job. Oddest thing. Really hard to get relief from at first. It abated, and I think it was just a harbinger, just the bubble bursting, once again, in an area I was meant to explore now, in the physical.

And so it goes.

So, my take away today? Most importantly, I think, was the realization that I bent my energy because I did not know of my own source. And the other one is, don’t bend my energy, don’t consider anyone or anything the source of my good. This is a misinterpretation of the light. Don’t bend, not even to Jesus Christ himself.


The humor also remains consistent.

That’s it for today. I’m hungry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




Deeply Awake — It Is Ready 5-19-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — It Is Ready 5-19-13 By Kathy Vik

Oh, are the time lines merging for you like they are for me and all my people? Distant relatives, old homecomings, lots of things being tied up in very very synchronous and balanced bows, all over the place.

Are you finding this to be true for you?

I took a nap anticipating I would need to work, and I was very grateful for the rest. When I am awake now, it is such a full-on, full-bore psychedelic experience, it is good to lay my old head down and just be a creature again for a time.

I woke up and needed clarity. The dictation, it just doesn’t stop anymore, and I am glad of it, but I needed synthesis, I needed some sort of workable framework for what comes next.

So I read the light worker blogs, and, as always, me and Aisha North and John Smallman are pretty much all on the same page, but others are also echoing this new reality:

Holy Crap But This Is Super COOOOOOOL.


So I was feeling good, thinking, yeah, it’s all super weird and abstracting, but I am not the only looney on the planet, thank God.

And then I decided to meditate.

I am writing to you tonight in light, right on the website. The need to express, and also the fun I have writing in light in this way, oh, I just couldn’t stop from putting fingertip to web, and letting it rip.

So as always, when doing it bareback like this, be aware the typos will make this thing awkward, until second edit, sometime after I’ve gotten recovered from healing the sick for twelve hours.

So here it is. I sat at the edge of my bed and got real still.

I felt anticipation and excitement, somewhere deep, and I wanted some answers.

Next, I saw that same pinpoint of light, and lots of blackness all around.

I checked my physical body, and I am coursing with tremendous light, but there, in my awareness, a paltry, bright but tiny, but insistent, overpoweringly white light, a pinpoint-sized thing.

And I got a little p.o.’d then, and said, listen, this is not very cool, not being able to see. You told me this is my consciousness, this blackness.

And so I say, I do not have a blacked out consciousness. I want to see what is going on!

And with that, a pair of very large hands went up and pulled back a black velvet curtain, just like on a window, or in the Wizard of Oz.

And this is what I saw:

I had vision about as clear as when I don’t have my glasses on. It was very sunny, and I could tell it was a plain. I knew it was someplace mystical, and relatively uninhabited, and yet, I kept seeing movement. And I could appreciate that there were little tiny people, way down below, working, and I saw Egyptian clothing.

There was a great clay pyramid, and it made me sad to see, because it was a statement of purpose, and it was a sad purpose, to me. It meant that the magic in the world was officially gone, and there was a new feeling to this Earth. It’s like the Mother’s navel, where all her gifts come from, it got plugged up with that pyramid.

I could see it all formed, and gently settling onto the plain

And then, I understood there was a war going on somewhere, and even though it was still a sunny day and very beautiful Egyptian men were moving carts around and keeping busy, and were very happy people, I might add, well, I sensed conflict.

And the person who had opened the curtains told me then to turn around and stop looking out of the window it had exposed bare.

I did, I turned, and found it very very odd to be facing myself so in meditation. I’d never done it.

And then a very interesting thing happened.

As I turned, and I faced my body, I could feel a turn of sorts within. And it felt like a weird resorption, and then, I was looking casually out the window.

I understood then that “I” am one of many “I’s”.

And then, there I was I felt, like Shiva or any of the other Hindu greats, and I was looking out the window with me, with a little Kathy Vik, sitting on my big person’s right shoulder. Just perched like you see angels or demons perching on a person’s shoulder in the movies.

And then, all these other people started showing up. All around this entities shoulders, all around its neck, ringing it like a lei almost, were other people, all interested in looking out the window, all understanding we were seeing a great war, the last of its kind.

I was told that this war is the one the psychic on Friday had told me was causing such difficulty for me at the moment. And it was the same war that the Gita is describing. And it is not a war fought on earth. it is the war of personality self versus higher self.

And it can get a little crazy when the time comes for your little personality to turn inward and come home, but it has always been the way, and can be no other way, because just as Shiva had his babies, and just as God has many ways of expression, so you are more than you have thought.

And then a couple interesting things happened.

First, I saw that there was actually no battle going on. My vision had gotten sharp and I saw that the workers who were on the plain were beautiful and steady and holy. And they had just been clearing the path for the pyramid. It was still a lovely day. Somehow, it was just a matter of perception, whether those men fought and killed each other, or whether they shared a smoke after digging an appropriate hole, while they told each other jokes from time to time.

And then, the entity did something very very nice.

This big entity looked at me, sitting as I was on its right shoulder, and asked if I’d like to come on up.

I did. I found a ribbon of light and zipped right into that being’s eyes.

But as I did, I felt a part of myself just not as important, not as relevant, as I adjusted to this vantage point.

The entity said:

This pyramid is the symbol of the lower portion of your individual and mass merkahbah. It is readied. You see here that the capstone is on, and it is a beautiful summer day on the plain.


And they gave me the idea of an upside down pyramid lowering into the clay one.

i know it does not take a rocket scientist to know the significance of this symbol.


I did not get to witness the merge, because it is not yet time to effect a merge. But all is in readiness, they kept saying. Just kick back and enjoy this next part, they said.

So I will tell you what they told me in parting, I will try very hard to remember how we left it. And then, I go once again to work, to the hospital, to “normalcy.”

They told me these are the days of the harvest. These are the day of homecoming and celebration. This is the time that the wise use to love on themselves and congratulate themselves.

The difficult part has passed away, and there is no more pain, only that which can be conjured, and that which can be conjured can be un-conjured. Simple as that.

So these are days that I must be still. There is movement, and they keep telling me, as I pour my coffee, as I smoke, as I pet my cat, they say, they are always saying now, it’s complete. You are complete. It is done. Enjoy. Be still. Enjoy.

I will. i understand this next part whole, and pretty much know what to expect. I know, as my channeling proves, that these are days of great surprises and gifts, and that I have become so unaccustomed to blocking my good, that it is just tumbling out of the sky. And yet, there are still, from time to time, little hooks, little eddies of discomfort, and I know I will see them, encounter them, and be asked to hop over them at work tonight.

I will never again take on the role of tiny, unwanted, unrealized, afraid, quiet, scared Kathy Vik, the one afraid, the one absolutely convinced no one loves her. Unconvinced. So sad, so sad.

But I am not her, no, I am not.

And I may not be that entity who pulled open the curtains, but this is how I will leave it, an almost unbelievable conclusion to this meditation.

At the end of the meditation, I appreciated my body again. My short little legs jutting out off of the bed, touching the bookshelf I use as a side table. Just this little wrinkled, graying body. Ha!

And I understood, I just simply knew, that I am not only the supplicant but the one who opened the curtains, and the very picture I showed myself.

The meditation ended with them turning into the ones who counseled me nearly twenty years ago, who took me away from earth and showed it to me from a window, and asked me to look.

After they’d given me rest, with a loving hand of a brother on my shoulder, I looked at the earth. i saw it spin. I was unaffected. i really could have cared less.

Pretty, though.

And then I heard it, and then I felt it.

Cries, such misunderstandings, such torment, such pain. The suffering, all of it voluntary, all of it holy, all of in sanctified.

And they had asked me then, in my homesickness and my weariness, what do you want to do?

they said that I could stay with them, but I would probably soon feel I had made a mistake. Look again, they said. Feel it. Hear it.

And I knew then that there never really was a choice, not really, and this had been some sort of dumb exercise in emotional incontinence. They told me how it is for them. they cannot touch skin to skin. they cannot speak words that can readily be heard. They must do things in an energetic and symbolic way, but me, on earth, I can do more. I can touch people. i can listen to secrets. i can play with children and I can dry eyes that have been weeping. i can do that. i am well positioned for this, actually.

i saw then why nursing was not a bad choice.

And so I chose to return. The work with The Teachers, after that, went much more smoothly, of course.

And today, they are back, and they are with me looking out that window onto an Egyptian scene. They are with me and they tell me now how to proceed.

I do not have to be so clever now, and I know I can trust what comes out of my mouth, as free of filters as that has become. God help us all.

They told me to kick back and stop sweating it quite so much. They told me I certainly CAN go around believing I am a solar angel, if that makes me happy, because in a way, I am one. And I am other things too, and none of it means a whole lot if I am not laughing and having a good time. it’s all just dumb words if i am not laughing and easing people’s ways.

So I will do that. I have a good vantage point. i know that sometimes I will look up and all I will see is black. I know that.

but now I know to ask to have someone just open the curtain. And that will be done, always, every time, if it is for my highest good. And this is a cooperative anymore, so, if I ask, of course it is for the heights good.

Blessings to you this right night.

We are deep into the mystery now, at least my we is, and I hope your we is having fun looking out of their own windows. I am so looking forward to hearing what it is you see from your seat!!!

Deeply Awake — Travelogue, Itinerary, And Jesus 5-13-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — Travelogue, Itinerary, And Jesus 5-13-13 By Kathy Vik

Introduction – I sat down to write, and had a nice time, and then I got done and figured, ok, it was a long one, 7? 6? 8 pages? No, it’s 23. I have only done first edit spell check because when I do the second edit, I usually add to the work, and this is enough. So, I am putting it out there, as always, as it came to me whole, written in an afternoon, spell checked, that’s it. I have no idea, really, how it will feel to read… but it was AWESOME to have been given the gift of being able to write it.  Enjoy………

I did not know until this moment that I would be writing about my good friend Jesus, but there it is.

I have spent, well, anymore, I really can’t put a temporal marker to what is happening to me. It’s all metaphor.

Let me give you an example.

I had been listening to some Kryon, and then decided that I just couldn’t take it anymore, I needed a smoke. I looked all around for my extra pack. Nowhere.

As I was pulling on my shorts, I heard some shrieking in the hallway. It came to mind this was a new voice, and was probably the new neighbor Sam and I met moving in yesterday. Oh my, I hope she isn’t a crazy one, a mean one. Oh no.

And then I find my wallet and leave my apartment, and who do I encounter but our new neighbor. She is aquiver – someone, in thirty seconds, came behind her and stole her great grandmother’s skillets, in the hallway, she’d left for less than a minute… she was beside herself with the white hot rage one feels when they’ve been wantonly and deeply violated.

I told her a couple things about how good the people on this floor are, and the only trouble spot, well, surely if the kids in the noisy apartment see that it is skillets and not hardware in that HP laptop box, they’d feel bad, they’ve done wrong, they don’t want the stuff they took…

And then I went downstairs in the elevator with her. She was still stewing, so upset, so outraged and disappointed and disgusted…

I went to my car and found my extra pack… nearly full. Suddenly, going to the store is no longer interesting. It’s not lit up anymore, so I go back upstairs. And now I am drinking coffee, listening to Craig Pruess and Ananda, letting them fill up my home, my being, with the 108 sacred names of the divine mother. It is a fitting way to bridge study time with work time.

It has become clearer and clearer what my path is, what your path is, whether you have figured it out all the way or not. If my writing proves anything, anything at all, it is that we truly are witty, tricky, clever, benevolent beings.

All through my writings, all through my life, my beautiful and full life, there have been the answers, and the fabric it all the time was that of linen and silk, shiny and soft, that I weaved myself.

I set this up, and the only thought I am having at the moment is how obvious it is all seeming right now, but of course, at the time, it was necessary to have heavy cross referencing and overlays. It was imperative this awakening was foolproof, not on a universal scale, just for me.

This always bothered me, niggled at me, all through my life. It is something that can only be openly discussed here. So here goes.

Do you have a death wish? Is death something, for you, that you see as your ace in the hole? Your built-in escape hatch, your way out? I have. Death is always there if I can’t take it. And most of my life I was just a real good plan shy of doing it.

Oh, I know it sounds dramatic, and there are those who just naturally must turn away from expressions of strong emotion, strong reality, but let them turn away. It’s ok. I don’t need anyone peering in who does not have eyes of love.

For the ones who know what I mean, this friend was ever present for me. And I seemed to collect others with a similar outlook. I even had one friend who squirreled away the gear and enough IV Potassium to kill herself dead, instantly. She carried it with her, finally got a second hit to have at her home.

I know this sounds weird, but for the tow of us, and many of my other friends and acquaintances, death is not some big mystery. It’s the entrance fee to the next amusement park.

So, it bothered me, as the years passed and I was still alive. First, I was surprised I lived past 18. It was a shocker. And then, on my 21st birthday, again, there had to be readjustments. I am still here. I still have a pulse. IT still sucks, by the way.

And thirty. Oh, thirty, that night was spent in orgiastic dancing with my girlfriend and our gang. Celebrating in our favorite club, thumbing my nose at something that had ridden with me, free of charge, every day of my life, this voice, this knowing, this understanding, that today is the day I die.

And as I woke up, finally, this last time, I began to ponder this singular relationship I have with dying. I died up in Central City, converted as I was. I am certain my heart was stopped and started, in an after-thought, shadow sort of way. When your heart gets hit with light, everything must readjust. So I died, I know it, and have had some pretty sparkly NDE things in the last year, and yet, I have a pulse, I am alive.

I got sort of mad about it a month ago. How is it that if I am in charge, I am this God, how is it that I could want something so much, with such focus, such intensity, and IT DODN’T HAPPEN?

How does THAT work?

I thought I was in charge around here.


But, here I sit.

A much different creature than I was two years ago, one year ago, a half year ago, yesterday.

How is it that I can have this running theme of longing for death, and yet I live?

Of course, it makes sense to me now, and I mean right now, and could not have made sense this way had I not had the discipline to present myself to this keyboard like the devoted lover I am.

Death was a symbol. It was a metaphor. When was the last time I had the common sense to ask myself just what it is that death means to me, why do I want it so bad?

Death is going home. It is reconnecting and not going without interruptions in service. It is full knowing, not this shoddy kind of knowing I engage in here. It is free. I would be free. I would be happy.

See, that is death to me. Not being waxy gray and lowered into the earth, although, sure, that’s a cool part of it too, but, really, that was my soul cry.

Of course I longed for death, now that I put it that way.

I will tell you now of a story which occurred yesterday, entangled deeply, as we were, in the mystery. On our travels, we went to Herbs & Arts, a metaphysical store here in Denver. Just like a homing beacon, we woke up in vague probabilities, and what emerged yesterday, what we allowed emerge, was brilliant.

In the store, I found a tapestry of a woman in the Shiva pose, her with multiple arms, sitting in deep repose, all jewel tones and exquisite. And I found this CD. I visited my business cards, sitting in the business card exchange nook.

We left the store and put in the CD.

It is angelic, nothing else describes this sound. It holds close similarities to the music of the spheres, let’s put it that way.

And here we are, in my beat up ugly white 2000 Mazda car, my 12 year old and I listening to this ancient, blessed music, all the way home. Of course, we were transported.

Sam went to sleep. He is doing very hard work at school and among his peers at present, and he was exhausted.

We drove down Broadway, and I reached out my hand, entered his field, and could feel his higher self hold my hand and discuss his progress. We are well pleased, and I know he is fine.

The drive continued, and then I realized, OH MY GOD, I am going to have to get out of my car!

Oh my god, this bliss is going to end.

And then I laughed at the allegory and had my storyteller tell me a story. I will give it to you now.

When people who had never been in modern society were shown a fine New York hotel, part of Lawrence of Arabia’s entourage, their trip became all about the water taps.

They had not had running water. Their lives had been built around the necessary issues and steps which must occur when one does NOT have running water.

And here was water.

Upon leaving the hotel, it is rumored that they left with, or were discouraged to leave with, the faucets. The physical taps. They wanted this running water always, and mistook the source with its delivery.

I Remember now, the patient you had last week. She had three nurses taking care of her because of her panic and fear. She had no less than one hundred years of nursing experience pouring onto her. Away from her, at the desk, no one spoke unkind words about her. Physicians worked throughout the night for her, many late night phone calls.

In the morning, sun shining into her room, she complained so bitterly, with your narrator present, to this brand new doctor, someone fresh and uninitiated and with authority. She cried then, as she told him how no one had been her advocate, she should have just gone home because no one cared for her, she got bad care. I cried on the way home because of that. it was so mean, though to her it was not only her right, to see herself as a victim. That’s why that saying is so true: Victims are violent people.

And the voices say: You did not grieve for not having been noticed as the healer you are, as the nice person. You did not weep because her bitterness is the kind that can decisively break careers. No. You wept because she’d been surrounded by, blanketed with, fed and watered with divine love, and she had lain there completely convinced of her state of separation.

That is why you cried. And you wept as you realized in just how many ways you hold this posture now, toward your own life, toward your heart.

This was a giant soul, who did you a great favor.

She taught you, with this CD as a soundtrack, simply this:

The source is ever flowing and present in all ways, at all times, in every now moment, now and now and now and yes, even, even, this, yes, now too.

God is all.

You have been mistaking the taps for the source, love. And that is all.

But through it all, even as a child, a little child, I knew.

I knew it was pitch black around here, and against good advice and all that seems intuitive, I woke up, I loved, I gave, and I got here.

And so, now, listening to Kryon and studying Tony Stubbs as I am, completing this education as I am, using them as the guides that of course they are, I see now that the struggles I have chronicled, these struggles I have always been so embarrassed about, they are valid and they are there for every initiate to work  in their own way.

I understand that there is stuff I know that needs to be hidden, just a bit longer, because people still equate spiritual advancement for personality integrity and they are really two very different things.

And so I will tell you what I feel there is permission for, and tell you this at the same time. I understand now that these chronicles are meant, in part, to stretch things. I put something out there, and there are codes that are within the work, within me, and these essays are not only travelogues but future itineraries.

So I can go a little further now than before, and then I will wait, and when I feel more permission, more will come.

But I think that it is best to imagine that the only people reading this stuff are those who actually need it. I mean, if you are reading this, there is a reason. It is highly specific, in some respects, but deeply universal, and pregnant, just pregnant, with the third language.

I go back to my story. The voices told me, as the music played, that this is the music of God, of everything pure and not tired and fresh and true, symmetric, playful, deep, funny, pleasing, comfortable, real. And this is always around. The music gets pumped through my stereo, but it is just as easily coming through anything I can see or hear or touch. Everything is impregnated with source, with this music.

The music is playing all the time.

And this is how true this is for you now, they said.

They said, just think of it!

Now, when you physically get into your physical car, you can hear this music, physically. In between each of your errands, this music can play. It is just a choice now. It always was a choice. This CD was released in 2002.

And no disrespect for not hearing it before. It was there. It was just really hard to hear. If you’d had the CD, it would have been scratchy, or you would have lost it. You know how these things work.

Now the music is available. Enjoy it, and stop worrying. Test it. You do not believe us. Go get what you need at the 7-11. Then get back in the car and turn on the engine.

I did, in my mind, and it was real, and I spent the day doing errands and really getting it, there in my mind, how it physically felt to go a whole day of errand running and there, in the background, every time I turned it on, there was the music of the spheres.

It’s always been there, and it always will be. And it always has been playing.

You see, that is the trick of it for me.

I sit different in the knowledge now. I understand that I, as this personality, have agreed to a veil, and to be rendered ineffective by fear, these are devices.

Why did I do it? Why did I consent to profound amnesia?
Why did I turn myself away from the help offered, damning it instead, calling it a little and mean thing?

I did not recognize that which is love as that which is love, and that is all.

Kryon asked me, at the end of this last lesson, if I can honestly say three things. But he presented the three things first, and one by one, I ticked them off. Can you say: It is well with my soul. Can you say: I am that I am. Can you say: I am grateful for all.

Yes, yes and yes.

He was describing the match bearer, the advanced old soul, the ones in the room who have always been different, always off just a fraction, the one in your life that makes everything just a little tilty.

I have always served that function.

My guess is that you have too.

Here is the deal. It helps so much and I want you to hear it, feel it, right along with me, as I make it my own, OK? It think this will be great fun, if we can get it together, as a team, you and I, here on the page.

OK. We came into darkness. In this darkness, when someone bumps you, you attack. And there are attacks that come in the ink dark of this blackness, and this is not any good at all.

The darkness is a fearful place. It makes a person come to know fear, insecurity, anxiety, dread.

The darkness makes it impossible to know just who it is you or anyone else is, and there in the dark, it is easy to not see things as clearly as you’d like. Mistakes are made.

And there are folks tossed into this darkness who have a special gift.

There are souls here who can spark light in the darkness. They come in with a faint glow. They remember what everyone else seems to have forgotten, and as they age, this knowledge becomes more and more unavoidable.

You and I, we woke up in Salem, in medieval times, and we have been burned alive for remembering.

Light, in this darkness that we created, you and I, light here was not always welcome.

But light is contagious, you see.

And here we are, within the Galactic Alignment. I am 52, a good age to be alive in 2012. A perfect age, actually.

And I have been over here, in my apartment, getting really really good at sparking my flame.

I think this is why I had such bad agoraphobia at certain times in my life. My heart would break on leaving the house, and an anxiety would settle on my skin, into my lungs, as I rode the elevator to the basement, to get into my car, and go anywhere. Really, just any place made me have anxiety. Even the good stuff.

And now I know why.

I was leaving a freaking bonfire to back into velvet inky darkness.

And it hurt to have contact with people so unaware of the light, and so very condescending toward the bonfire consuming me, keeping me alive, connected to it as I am wherever I go, whatever I do.

See, that is the part that I didn’t appreciate.

I carry it with me.

You see? It is never gone. I am never apart from source. I am source. The thought is an invalid one, a weak and silly one. A device, and nothing more.

And I tell you now of my great love for Jesus.

This is a mystical union which I have never discussed, and there is much about it I never will discuss. Much must remain private, and that is not to separate or divide. This is just good mental, spiritual hygiene.

Jesus came to me when I was a little girl.

We were at the dump. This was the 60’s, when people understood that what they throw away goes and stays and sits somewhere. The dump. My dad would take us there on Sundays, and we went through thrash. It was one of my favorite things growing up. I found old, just ancient, postcards, musty, moldy books. The smell of those trips, oh, still here, I am enjoying it now.

And I can remember being in the backseat of the car, and there was Jesus.

He told me that I was to be like him, and my role would be to come to know peace and love. I would be compassionate, and very very wise, just sparkly smart, and I would be someone like him, in every way.

I can remember asking about the dying thing, just that whole mess, and he told me no, that isn’t the point. I am him, he is me, but he is separate, and I am to be like him, in my body.

So, there’s that.

We went home and probably had hot dogs and boiled carrots, watched TV and went to bed. Probably.

But it gave me an appreciation and an interest in Jesus’ life. I payed attention to the scripture, and I made sure I got bibles with Jesus’ words in red. I found certain passages in the bible that made me feel really good, really good, they still do, and I learned them.

I had permission to learn about Jesus, and to find out what he did, living in a Lutheran household. I studied, and I liked that Jesus was always there, this big weird mystery to solve.

In my teens, we saw Jesus Christ Superstar, first run, our pastor and the church youth group. My mom made sure that we went as a family to see Ted Neely do the JCS revival on stage in 1992. Fifteen years after that, I met a random person who had to give me a signed piece of art commemorating the revival’s tour.

In reference to Jesus, and this musical, I will say that I always resonated with the beginning, and with the teachings more than the death stuff, the politics and high drama.

I felt the message got weirdly hijacked, but it was still serviceable, and enough got through to help. That’s why I really appreciate the versions of JCS that end before the whole death thing. It’s just too slippery for me. And no, I know of no other word to describe that weirdness that happened in the desert all this time ago.

There is a lot that I could “speculate” on, which at this point I will not allow myself to do publicly. This stuff is real close to the surface, and deserves being sat with before it is discussed. But there are a couple other things as they pertain to Jesus.

Now I just want to free style a bit. I want to tell you of the things I am aware of , just about Jesus, but by extension, The Other Big Ones. Let me tell you from my heart, the heart of me in love with Jesus, with this entity. Let me just sing my love for him.

My understanding is a benevolent and encompassing one. I believe that Jesus is Buddha is Zoroaster is, is, is. There is one mind, after all, in the end.

I think that this one mind has had many incarnations on this planet, and some of them grabbed more headlines than others.

The Great Mother, The Universal Heart, the benevolence running the whole thing, well, here is how it works.

The faster you spin, the more love and information is available. And Buddha, Jesus, (I just use these two because I am lazy… think every saint, MLK, Gandhi, all of them!), their channels were wide open, because they agreed to come in without the veils, with the crystalline DNA able to perceive as we are now just beginning to.

They channeled the One Mind. This is why all great religions have what has been called a “golden thread of truth” running through them. Of course these greats reincarnate. Of course. It’s like grooves on a record.

But this entity, this mind, is available to all of us now.

Let me tell you what happened to me in 1993, could have been 1994, I’ll never know.

I was at church, in the choir loft of an old cathedral in downtown Denver, there for the early serve, singing in the choir, under the leadership of my old friend Jeffrey.

Jeff and I accepted our mystical love for God. We let each other be, and recognized that we were both deeply in love with God. I liked Jeff, had met him at the gay choir we were both in, about two hundred men and women who met every Thursday, just to learn songs about how great and poignant and beautiful it is to love, and then annually we would put on a huge show at the huge old theatre right downtown.

Jeff was the star of that choir. He had the voice of an angel and the personality of a devil. He was dirty and lewd and loud and funny as hell, and I watched him that night, of my first performance, beforehand as we creatives were running through the still empty auditorium, I watched him and thought, God, I want nothing more than to be in his energy, and I am just way too uncool for him. He will never be my friend.

And here I sit, in the choir loft, led by Jeff to sing like an angel for the congregants on a spring day in the early nineties.

I was reading the hymnal, looking for the mystical. I read my favorite passages, having completely tuned out the prattling below me. I was in the mystery, thinking about Jesus.

And right there in that loft, he showed up.

I cannot tell you that I saw him, because my eyes, they didn’t. But everything else within me knew that I was seeing an old friend.

He hung out with me and read with me. I do not remember it if he gave me instructions.

I think, as I recall, I knew this was a visit from an old friend. Not to check up. Not to inform. Just to love. Just to confirm. Just to put me at peace. Because that’s what family does for each other.

I remember now that I did tell The Teachers about this. How wonderful to have these memories being recovered!

They told me yes, he was there. He is alive. He is physical. He exists. He is your friend.

They also told me a lot about my time with him, in the old days.

This will remain hidden, just suffice it to say that I am not of the ilk who believes that I walked the earth as Jesus.

There are just some things, even with coming to terms with who I am, there are just some things that are not entertained, out of deep honor and respect. His work as Jesus stands alone, and it is to be honored, studied, loved, but never owned.
Never owned. Everyone owns it, it is our heart, it is our best attempt at the time.

And now comes the backflip with a lazy susan half turn.

We are becoming Christs.

You see, there are two parts to his name.

Jesus, that is his moniker, his personality name, his handle, his tag, his signature.

Christ, this refers to his home, and this home is where we all live.

I heard someone say that at the end, Jesus had no beliefs. It is not possible to get that high in consciousness and be able to hold a belief.

I think one of my favorite images will always be a painting of Jesus, kneeling before a boulder, in the garden of Gethsemane, and he is making hand farts, and the thought balloons above his hands read “Pfft!” “Pfffft!”

THAT is MY Jesus.

Fucking with his hands, making farting noises, right before he does his thing, whether that’s just translocating and letting the loco get nabbed by the po-po, or whether he really did submit to such foolishness as a crucifixion. My guess he was passing his time, quite pleasurably, in that Garden nibbling olives, looking at the stars, and occasionally making farting sounds with his hands.

It is well with my soul.
I am that I am.
I live within a grateful heart.

And truly, friend, this is all I have ever wanted.

What else matters? I have seen it, and I know, that you can have millions in the bank. You can leak cash, have it falling out of your wallet, and be so impoverished you wish you could die, or kill someone else.

I have seen people with every single advantage… beauty, familial respect and support, meaningful work, interesting hobbies, and their health, that one lynchpin, fails.

And it all comes crumbling down.

The person looks at the rubble, the lost house, the broken body, the fatigued friends and family, and there, in the destruction, like a single dandelion on a battlefield still oozing blood, and there is hope.

There is light.

There is something making all this go, making all of this work, and there has to be a reason behind it, yes? There has to be a reason.

I know the reason now.

I understand a few things I did not before.

And I know my role. I think I have a pretty good idea of yours too, and our friend Jesus would like very much to clear up a few things.

Jesus is as alive now as when it all went down. He was potential before that, and now, once again within Universal Mind, he is settling back into earth, but this time, he is doing it heart by heart, moment to moment, within our context, within our skin.

As a little girl, I could clearly see the advantage to being like Christ. I could give people peace. I would still them. I would have peace too, because people would be still and sane around me. They would remember, around me, who they are, and they would only be able to act in good and right ways.

Do you see, as I do now, why my life was a little tricky? I think I set my sights a little high.

It seemed entirely possible at the time, and just like, ok, here’s the assignment. It’ll suck and be interesting and you get this really cool thing with it. Yes, you will do miracles.

So, I think it is about time to let this lover of humanity out. I think it is time to see that he has been here the whole time, whispering in my ear, in the old language, reminding me of things I didn’t think were salient.

I think we are the new Christs, and I think we have his permission to do this thing.

Now, I think that to end this, I will use my imagination and imagine just what it is that Jesus would have us know at this moment. I know that he is with me here, and if I can get in the right space, some stratum of his energy can entangle me in a way I can hear and feel, and then he can instruct me more clearly.

I will try this now, and then I will end. I’ll do a first edit and put it out fresh.

This is good stuff. At least I got to visit Jeffrey. I love him and enjoy thinking on him, everything he gave to me, how rich and happy he made me.

Now let’s see what Jesus might think of all this stuff…..

You struggle with issues of identity within the great mind and we are here to help.

Think of your apple, and its seeds, please.

The apple hangs on the tree, celebrating its becoming, you see? The apple is in joy, and in a spirit of sacrificial goodwill. It is as it is, and it is perfect in its being. It has congruence, meaning, and purpose.

The apple will fall when it must, and not one moment before. Its purpose, to flower, its purpose, to develop into fruit, its purpose to nourish a friend, its purpose to seed the earth with its self.

These are mysteries, these timings, unknown to our friend the apple. The apple does not weigh itself down with these questions. Indeed, if it did, it would have remained a thought.

There is movement and there is sanctification in taking action, all those who slumber and those now awake, seeking validation.

You see, the time of seeding has begun. Your position has changed. Perhaps it was during the eclipse, maybe it was some other event, but you now notice you are on the ground.

You must understand it is no longer your time to soak up nutrients, to sit in sun and grow.

You are mature now, and your job is to offer your fruit up for consumption.

This takes an act of faith which each will decide upon, whether they have the readiness to test these waters, for they are strong, and the current is swift.

You will come to know what it is to be consumed and to be present and whole and ripe and unchanged.

You are not an ordinary apple.

The same sun and water fed you as your brothers and sisters.

They are on the tree. See them dangle there still. They are very beautiful up there in the sunlight, in the twilight, in the deep chill of night. They are doing as they must, just as you did.

You must now leave this analogy, because I can tell you are still thinking that you cannot do much, as you are, an apple without legs and without a mouth, plopped onto the earth to wither, to atrophy, to rot and go back to the mother.

This is an incorrect summation and must be abandoned. You are now, as you sail through the air toward the earth, you know now, you can feel it, your heart is opening now as you understand, all the dreams you have had recently about splitting off and reuniting. You see it in your dreams, and you bring it back in the morning and we appreciate how you sit, stunned, clearly reeling from what you are reminding yourself of.

We honor your assimilation.

The apple, as it is flying, just as you fly now nightly in your dreams, this act of flight, it changes the character and the ability of the apple. You’ve matured before the rest, and this is how you were made. You cannot hate others for not maturing as you did, since you don’t fully understand just how it was done quite yet. So hold no hate, no judgment, no fear.

Be instead grateful for this knowing you hold within now.

You have traveled far, and we are ever at your service. You are honored, you and those you write to. They must know as well, that Universal Mind is here, it is singing and speaking to you, every night, every moment.

We are a collective of entities and you had such trouble with the “me” and “them” koan. Do you see now? It is appropriate and desired for this mind to take on impossibly infinite variations. You see, now, as you go to work, more and more it is an amalgam of entities ministering to those you encounter, not only patients, but staff. You are sensing them more whole. You see them as separate from you, but coming from the same source.

You see them as differently faced you’s, and we caution you to steady your thinking now for this next part.

Although it is true that we are all made of the same substance, and we are all expressions of the same thought, you must understand that things are not as they seem.

There are variations, gradations, preferences and soul needs at work that you cannot currently appreciate.

We tell you that The Kryon is accurate and true. You are a Creator God, and you know this, and you shirk from it, but you know it to be true. You are an old one, and you know there are many old ones here now.

You know, deep within you, that everyone you meet, everyone you medicate, everyone you argue with, these too are all from the same source.

We now wish to settle you, little apple, and tell you truly of how things are for you in this life.

You have been playing with it for three weeks, and you know it.

You can feel it, and this power is all soothing, is it not? It is the truth of the matter. You are loved. They are loved. All is well. Nothing is out of balance. There is no need for anger. Fear not. Be still. You know this. You know this. You know this.

And we tell you now, this is your mission, this is why you came in. You are here to be a walking master. There are others. You are not alone anymore, not in any sphere. It is true you all walked solitary paths. You were alone. You abandoned yourselves utterly. It was quite a sight.

Each night, we mended you, each day, we buoyed you.

It was all for this day, and those to come.
Never again must you hide your light.
There are too many of you now to stop it.
You, all of You, have succeeded where you have failed in the past. You knew it was a gamble, and you knew it was a sure thing.
You each have had your walks in the desert, the temptations of christ still, at times, cloud your sensorium and become very real, quite ominous, they can appear, can they not.

This is a favorite treat of ours, this ability to cloud things with a simple thought, and the ability to right the Self with just one thought. Thoughts are portals, my friends. They are portals, all. Words, yes, and deeds, all portals.

You, now, the awake ones, you are walking portals.

You must come to peace with this. And we are instructing you, you are instructing yourself, nightly. Why do you think your sleep habits have changed? You are integrating physical with arcane, this is a lightning fast project, it is happening with more speed than anticipated, but just as much as the most hopeful around here held would come to pass.

You know that your civilization goes on the seed another galaxy. You have heard that representative, letters from the future. You know who we name now as Bashar. You know this, and yet do you feel it?

The only variable to this awakening is your degree of participation.

That’s it.

And you have decided you wish to participate by spreading peace in the physical, and dispensing information on the web. And for now this is very functional.

Get used to your power, we ask you now, all of your readers, we ask all of you to take this in.

This is real. You are awakening, and the enlightenment is physical, emotional, mental, sexual, political. It is within your very cells, within the atomic matter manifesting as cells. Do you see? It is manifesting in the heavens, with solar flares, eclipses, comets. It this there for all to see.

Do you see?

Do you see that it is good to go to work and love? Are you willing now, this day, to do it all consciously, from 7pm to 7:30am, wherever the reader may be, in the vet’s office,  or in a cafe, or at home, or school, or maybe in a friend’s car.

Can you embody compassion? Can you see nothing but love in everything you encounter? Can you be at peace in the midst of physical and spiritual suffering?

We know these are things you have mastered.

Why not have a little bit of pride in how far you have come?

Your difficulties with never fitting in, old one, ancient one, that is alright, and truth is, please do not be coy, you never really wanted any part of it anyway.

You hear a different music, one that you love, and you are pleased to know of many musical styles, but, dear one, loved one, old one, ancient, please, understand, we are conspiring in your favor now, because you are no longer conspiring against yourselves.

Allow this love to fill your fields.

Allow this love to drip off of your fingers as you prepare your meals, your patient’s medications, your bread, your paperwork.

Let this love, this knowledge of happiness and peace which you have no words for, let it become expressed in HOW you do your work, HOW you say thank you.

You ride the flow of traffic and bless every driver, each on their way, each driving to their self-appointed destinies. Do not ride against the flow, and do not curse your fellow travelers. Stay with the flow, allow it all, see it all as a poem that God HerHimSelf is writing in a language only the two of you can possibly understand.

Hold the grateful heart in the sad places. Hold the soft heart in the hard places. Hold the warm heart among the cold.

This task, this self-appointed task, this is the all. That’s it.

You agreed to be here. So removed are you from the thought of an accident, imagining that this is happening without your consent, without your very direction, is becoming quite laughable.

Are you A Buddha? Yes.
Are you A Christ? Yes.

Is your name Buddha, Gautama? No.
Is your name Jesus of Nazareth? No.

Were you a prince, and did you renounce wealth to find self? To find God?
Were you a lifelong student, a shaman, simple laborer, touched weirdly by a future you neither fought against nor resented?

You, your readers, you are the Christs returned to earth, and you know this is a role when you have reached a certain frequency. This is a role, a service, a joy, a mantle few can wear. You can. Put it on. Smile as you wear it. Never curse it.

You may put it in a drawer whenever you want to. You don’t have to wear it when you have sexual relations, but we encourage you to, with the right partner, in the right circumstances, to wear it while creating physical passion.

We ask you to be big, to stand as tall as you can, and to know that you don’t have a ceiling. There is nothing stopping you from attaining greater knowledge, greater love, than has ever been seen on the planet, now.

Of course, we did not say greater power. This frequency is the frequency of free will.

The Buddha, The Christ, Mohammed, Rumi, Gandhi, these men, they had an inkling, many of them were turned on full blast.

Dear one, we leave you with a thought.

You have been female this life. You have been sexually marginalized, and you have been raped. You have had your sexual and soulic power identified and others have tried to rip it from you. This stands as a tale many women know of, have lived, have survived, silently.

So, of course, you are not alone. This struggle happens in countless bedrooms, in many light worker’s life.

The next wave, the First Wave, the wave of Christs, they are FEMALE. See a return of Mother Energy, this frequency allowing male to adapt, gently, and female to adapt, gently.

Look for it, we tell you.

You must stop marginalizing, you must stop this thinking. It is one of the final frontiers.

There is a crystalline agreement that is being readjusted, and it will become, as you adjust, possible for you to see true worth, true, identity, true power, in the female. You all have inklings. You have not seen it yet.

The females reading this are switching on. Their males are not yet. They dangle on the tree. The women will meet. They will have groups, and they will have seminars, and they will be very inviting, they will allow men in.

These women have no fear, and so the phallus has no power, not really. Not anymore. It can be seen as co-creator, once reigned by an awakened heart and mind.

It is a tool, a grand and sacred one. But it is a tool only. It is not the foundation. Mother is the foundation. Woman is the foundation, Feminine is the foundation.

There will be great power, and it will come in waves, from the woman.

They talk about these miracles, how things will come about, how the new earth is to be manifested.

It is manifested through your kind acts, your expanded fields, your inclusion, and it happens through your children.

How many of you are SINGLE MOTHERS?

No interference with the male, primary caregivers, the source of training, with a peripheral male?

How many?

There is a reason for this divorce thing, you see.

Position yourself so that you may have children, or grandchildren, or access to children. We all have to. And we are working our greatest miracles there.

Unimpeded. Uninterefered with.

No one legislates parenting.

No one can.

And, really, we old ones, we would just ignore the rules anyway.

That’s how we are built.

OK… That is over, the blast is through.

I am left with knowing it’s cool to just be compassionate. If that’s all I do, if I can just be compassionate tonight. I must remember, compassion and gentleness are paired. It is twinned energy, but it is from gentleness that compassion blooms.

OK, I tell you this before I sign out.

Kryon said something today, and as he did, I was transported to the unit I last worked on. The nurses all started out cranky, upset, cursing the place, calling the patients names.

And I just kept radiating love and tolerance. It felt good. I just really could find nothing to get my underpants in a twist about, so I stayed quiet, did my reading, worked and answered lights and hardly sat down, actually.

He said, as I imagined that last shift, that when you do this, when you sit and radiate pure pure pure unconditional live, just see them as whole and loving and capable and free, and so loved, and you just give it away, well, it does a lot of things, obviously, but this blast may very well be the only pure love they feel all that day, or all that week, or all that month.

I thought then of my desert years. Those years when I was just barely hanging on, so dark, so squeezed was I.

And this is what I got from The Teachers. From my guides and teachers, here on earth, to whom I paid cash for their wisdom.

I got blasts of pure light, and it helped me.

There was so little about.

Now that the grids are loosening up and it’s so readily available, the memories that I have about the old times, the dark times, my life still on the tree, these are fading, and I am glad for it. I no longer need the devices of punishment and fear. I no longer need some of the more crude or dramatic realities to understand. My lessons can be soft because I am soft.

I think that Jesus would be pleased with my progress. I understand that he has come to me to remind me of things I should be remembering, when I need to remember them. He comes through in my essays, sometimes, and he is with me, steadying me, before I enter particularly difficult interpersonal situations which, well, they may not be of my making, but if I am in the middle of them, I may as well calm them down, because, when it’s all said and done, I am quite sleepy still, just waking up, and I like things smooth. I like things pleasant and pretty and, darn it, I’ll say it again, I like ’em sparkly.

I doubt that Jesus wore a lot of sparklies. He has never been described as someone who enjoyed accessorizing.

But I think it is awesome that these days we have be-dazzlers. And we can be just as sparkly, just as plain, just as flamboyant or silent as we see fit.

We are making this up as we go along, and the giving of love is not wrong, is never wrong, is always correct and timely and appropriate.

I have been wanting to know how to be a loving person, in the midst of hate.

He came to me when I was a little girl, to tell me it is indeed possible.

He came to me in my thirties to remind me of my mission.

He smokes clove cigarettes and cracks koans with me now.

If this is all made up, so what.

So fucking what.

My god is real, jesus is my friend, I am a living, breathing christ, this is attainable by every human, and it doesn’t mean anything more than I am, in the end, always an explorer, and my creations are these notes, and my world, such as it is, and the world will go on spinning with me thinking these odd thoughts.

The only thing that happens when I think them, is that I feel peaceful and people are nicer to me.

So I will go on thinking these thoughts, and more, much more.

And occasionally, when there is a break in the action, I will sit down and tell you a little bit about what is going on.

It really is a very lovely construct, for the moment, maybe for all my moments. We’ll see. It’s good for now.

So now I need to take a shower, andthen I go to work.

Chop wood, carry water.