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

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Holy smokes.

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

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

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

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

Namaste, my brother, my sister.





As referenced:

Deeply Awake CHANNEL — Evidence Of Things Unseen 4-26-14 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake CHANNEL — Evidence Of Things Unseen 4-26-14 By Kathy Vik


And so we begin by explaining some of the shifts which have recently occurred for many, and to explain how this shift has impacted the channel and this project.

We tell you now that tectonic movement has occurred of which you are aware but vibrationally, as individual entities and a mass consciousness.

These shifts have produced and will continue to produce fundamental alternations in most pursuits of daily life, and more to the point, how daily life is henceforth perceived by many of you.

We have allowed the channel to catch up, so to speak, and she is in agreement with this fundamental alteration we have been presenting to her incrementally for some time.

We bring up the personal to point out this is not personal at all, and far from holding onto such changes and shifts, speaking of them is far more imperative at this time.

This channel agreed long ago to play the fool, in many respects, and she is comfortable in this role. And this is a shift many of you also are aware of.

The wisest of you have had the most foolish of lives, have you not? Many of you have extricated yourselves from ruin more than once, and are more than aware of your so-called flaws in character.

And many of you are coming to see that having done foolish things, and having had foolish thoughts about your fellow travelers, your existence and purpose, nature and space, this has taught you more than any amount of preaching from a mound of sand could.

Is not the walk of a master to guide and encourage, and to see worth in that which is understood as worthless? A master must soften worthlessness, desolation, despair. And in the end, is not the master’s walk one of gentleness, wisdom, clarity and stillness?

One often think of these terms, in your culture, and we wish to encourage the idea that a master’s walk is one of peace, however, we wish to remind all who read and follow along that masters are made in cauldrons of discontent, and in times of fundamental shifts in consciousness.

We wish to show you in the most concrete terms, using simple language, the truth of it: that you are a spiritual entity who is having a physical experience, and not the reverse. We gave this to the channel, and she felt the frequencies each state holds. It is important to find these tracers, these feeling states, and identify them, for reference and direction, as you make your way quantum reality.

We wish to clarify that there has been a distinct and wholly artificial barrier between channeler and the channeled. There is a belief that channeled information for all must not contain that which is personal.

We refer, for instance, to the Seth material, footnotes regarding the kitty cat and house hunting all in italics. Many channelers do not, will not, discuss self. We wish to soften this thinking, as continuing this separation places many at a disadvantage, primarily due to frequential dissonance which can no longer be maintained within some vehicles.

We are here to tell you that blending, melding, merging, coupling, integrating, this is the way of it, and far from being suspected of charlatanism, you may encounter more and more channelers who are finally allowing personal as parable, as connector, as bridge. This comes from, of course, elevating the human to more spiritual terms, and feeling as if the spiritual is more tangible, of course.

We wish to have you understand that being human is far from an inferior state. It saddens, slows, things, to think this way, and is the result of DNA calibration, so to speak. Its release from your countenance may take practice, this we tell you to encourage you, asking you to not give up, and to keep on with the marriage afoot.

To this end we wish to announce that, with great celebration and permission, of course, the channel now understands that this book is to be a channeled one. She was not aware of it, and had misunderstood, initially.

She understood at first that the new volume now begun would be a dance between channeled information and essay. How surprised she was to finally understand this was a misinterpretation, an understandable one, for what was about to take place!

Dear reader, dear listener, dear shining one, understand that the shifts upon you are shifts which you have long anticipated and contracted for, in that, you wanted this, you are made for this time, and have skills for this transition many do not possess. And so, in role of helper and friend, you may now begin to guide others safely home knowingly and cooperatively, as they wish.

One cannot do this work effectively if one is tied to outcome, which means that one must be in complete abandonment of a desire to change another.

All systems are made of individuals, and this is sometimes forgotten. There is an overlay, a sort of glamor, that has been placed within mass thinking, and this is changing, no doubt of it.

There is the creator and the creation, and it is this that has been clarified in recent days. As such, many are beginning to see their reality as more powerful than they, more than ever before, while some are smiling, feet up, finally comfortable. And why is this?

We have explained that an interplay exists that is outside your perceptual equipment, so to speak, although this has begun to change as well. With too great an identification creator to created, the creator loses its awareness of an essential function of daily human life: integrity.

Creation becomes the all, and what better symbol to have for this construct but money. Ah, it is a beautiful set up, is it not?

And now, the shift begins. We tell you, can you not feel it, a generalized sense of gratitude, of home, of peace, within your skin, regardless of circumstance? Has it not been coming to you in waves from time to time? We told you of doorways recently. Understand these celestial events have left the doorways open. Wide open, you see. No longer a crack or a slit of light is perceived. No. Your equipment can pick up more now.

And now you are beginning to understand that perceiver is not perceived, and yet, in this very curious light, you are beginning to truly sense, for the first time, that what has been created is conscious, has life and meaning, is significant, and, very curiously, seems to be asking you to bless it.

As such, many then learn that it is mindfulness, thoughtfulness, simplicity and warmth are vibrations of personal integrity. With these as your metrics, can you not take comfort, at the end of a day perhaps filled with horrible conflicts, that yours perhaps was the role of consoler, of brotherhood, sisterhood, family, standing there in line, sitting at your desk, emptying the trash, being jostled and bumped as you sometimes might be.

That creator and creation are not the same is fundamental and obvious, and yet, there are deeper paradoxes at play here. The creation stands as a conscious entity, so to speak. As creator, are you pleased with your work?

Does the feeling tone of your creation please you, and will your creation go on to ease others’ ways? These are questions it is more than legitimate to ask, and we wish to add to this esoterica how things have come to be different, easier, we tell you, easier still.

We wish to make it easier.

Do you believe that things happen by accident, or purposefully? And how much of the time, to what percentage, would you say, are things accidents and are things purposeful?

We ask you to answer honestly, after contemplation. What is your answer? And is it possible that the answer is just one way or the other?

If that is so, then if you believe in the accidental, can we not tell you that you are missing out on magic? And for those who believe events are purposeful, we ask you, what is the end game of it all, then?

Why would daily life events be purposeful, and yet still one encounters that which is unpleasant, untenable, intolerable?

We wonder this too, since it is you who are creating your experience. What is it that you have decided is untenable, the intolerable, the unpleasant? This is how to start.

Why would such an experience be in your awareness? What could be a logical, benevolent answer?

The untenable, the intolerable, the unpleasant, they are backdrops, they are contrasts, they are grand splashes of color on the portrait of humankind.

If one’s creation is unpleasant, intolerable or untenable, does it not follow that sooner or later, the creator will come to accept they could create with a different palette? And perhaps this realization could only come at the end of a grand and bloody, conflicted and angry age of consciousness?

We urge you to turn away from thinking in “Us” and “Them” terms, when it comes to your fellow creators. This is, after all, a stance of arrogance and vanity, is it not? When was the last time you enjoyed having someone at the office tell you you were doing a task, your task, wrong. Did you enjoy it? Did it help you to feel joyful, confident or soothed?

If not, please, we ask, refrain from such behavior as the plates shift, the plates of human consciousness, we pray.

Creators you all are, and this is the cosmic paradox of the age, we submit. As a creator, would you prefer to do it plugged into that which produces peace, or would you prefer to paint from the palette of disregard, unthinking, isolation and separation? As a creator, is the choice not up to you?

And so, we will continue to discuss the matters at hand in this manner. We close by telling you of our purpose in communicating now.

This channel is well suited for the exploration of consciousness, psyche and physics, many of whose tenets she knows have not yet been discovered. As such, she is a blend of novice and ancient, as many of you are. We state these facts to explain not her countenance but ours.

She has asked us repeatedly for our name, and it is as yet unspoken. We have told her “Magartha” is important, but you see, that is not our energy.

She understands it is after sending this missive out that our name will be given to her. She had a meditation which featured her dearest friend, and a favored dreamscape, in preparation, and we allow her this desire for ceremony.

We are interested in the weaving together of esoterics and the daily walk, you see. This is our specialty, and this is why we groomed a fool, someone who has been last much, someone who knows humility.

Someone who has made grave errors in judgment, had grand failures, done destructive and misguided things, who has been treated poorly by invitation, choice and circumstance. Someone such as this understands how wrong they can be, you see, and is slow to trust.

This is a lush environment in which to practice our art, which is that of the healing of the heart. It is not the psyche which is in pieces, shutdown, dormant. It is the heart.

The high heart of humanity awakens, and we humbly give our deepest respect and love to those who have failed at the human game, or felt lost, or been despondent. In this despair and confusion was your call, your choice, your push toward the collective you. The system of support and benevolence which is immensely cooperative and stunningly loving. That its existence is in question is the heartbeat of this age.

As creator, use your integrity, your discernment, and we pray, your humor, in all things. We remind you that light itself is light, and we wish for hearts to become this way. It is possible, you see, when you begin to realise that what is in front of you, behind you and within you is well known, loved by, created, by you.

Allow us to leave you with this understanding. We are you, you us, and what separates us is your biology.

Understand, we pray, this paradox.

Your very biology is rooted in and springs from the unseen forces of creation itself.

Can you follow the logic this day, and come to a peace with the truth that you have created what is around you, and it is crying out for your recognition and acceptance?

That which you feel is ugly or repugnant or even, shall we say it, unacceptable, these abandoned creations will keep knocking until you invite them to dine with you. They are tame creatures and will not walk through this doorway without invitation, you see.

Love that which you have created, understanding that any dissonance or discomfort you feel can be ameliorated not only with energetics but with simple friendliness.

We realize we are asking you to love the unlovable, to find peace within great chaos, to feel at home regardless of where you lay your head.

Honor your humanness, and understand your power. The more you allow this thinking to trickle into the cracks of your group thinking, the easier it will be for your seedlings to grow.

Deeply Awake CHANNEL — The Mantle And Geometrics 4-23-14 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake CHANNEL — The Mantle And Geometrics 4-23-14 By Kathy Vik


We wish to speak to you today about geometrics as they relate to consciousness, and how this applies to daily life.

We have the channel an experience prior to beginning. Meditative music which, for her, symbolizes a very distinct and desirable being state was playing, and birds, just outside her window, were enjoying morning song as well.

She understood that grief is something unnecessary to hold, as she heard the birdsong and knew that she has heard it before, and will hear it again, and her awareness of grief was replaced with a spiral of song. This she now knows, and this was held in awareness as she explored the music and song, emotionally and soulically.

You see, as this was occurring, we overlayed the geometrics of it, and she understood that it is within the tension of awarenesses that creativity lies.

Lines went out, connecting music to song to perceiver, creator, co-creator, and this, we then began to show her, could be and is applicable to any pursuit or relationship she has had, ever will have, or is having now. You see, time and all its conventions become meaningless, and it is this we wish to discuss with those of you who might appreciate such things, and those who are indeed experiencing them this fine Spring day.

We have given the channel the image of a giant eraser, and then see how we have scrubbed and rubbed with the eraser, gently but thoroughly, and this is to explain in part the magnetics and, by inference, the geometrics surrounding and affecting each of you in your biology now. There are old abilities you no longer will have: rumination, terror, anxiety states, etc. There are new states and abilities for which you will have profound, immediate proclivity for. The time of surprising oneself is upon you!

Are you not finding that you do not have easy access to dark thoughts and incongruent mannerisms? Are you not finding true dissonance when your behavior is not in concert with soul? Can you not see what is occurring? You are, many of you, understanding at once the deep profundity of human connection, and the honor contained in free will.

We wish to explain that geometrics, as such, is no less of the imagination as magnetism or electricity. Geometrics are the native moment prior to manifestation, you see. Geometrics are the tracers of the mind of god, the evidence of benevolence within quanta.

We bring up geometrics because within the science is the mind of god. How does geometrics apply to your daily life, your story line, your incarnated awareness? Geometrics implies balance, and cannot be without it.

Balance and symmetry, order and beauty, these are words which fail to capture the essence of this state of knowledge. Understanding that everything you physically see or experience is rooted not only in spiritual reality but in mathematical, profoundly beautiful geometrics which are as real, as sturdy, as any steel bridge, knowledge a portal to higher consciousness.

You may witness the truth of this by gazing at crop circles. Can you not feel the love, the wisdom, the peace, within the mathematics and symmetry of the circles? Who but a member of your family would give you such a thing? Who but a loved one would leave such notes?

Those who study astrology understand the beauty of geometrics, and are allies of this energy. And so we discuss these celestial events at hand.

We have said repeatedly that grand movements in consciousness, the leaps many of you have taken so willingly, and larger, mass changes that are done willingly at a soulic level, these leaps are triggered, in this matrix, by celestial events.

We explained to the channel many years ago, and then demonstrated for her, that there are certain apexes that humans can sense and then use to “ride” waves of energy which are not always available in the dimension you inhabit.

These energetic boosts are insertions, and far from being a gift from angels, they are hardwired into this system of benevolence for those who are aware of them. Not escape hatches, but doorways.

These events are helpful in temporal realities, as they stand as reminders and beacons, testaments to those who can auger their meanings, and they can be anticipated, worked toward, celebrated, and remembered. They are signposts, you might say, on the cosmic road of expansion.

Best to consider that you are a creator of this system and therefore can come to seek out and use the triggers The All (you!) has built into this enormously beautiful system of awakening!

Drop the thinking that these things come to you as a gift from someone else, and understand, because you are aware of them, even if you do not fully understand their significance, and in reality, this stance you have is one of co-creator, author, director in amnesia. Think grander and allow your magnificence to shine through the geometrics of the heavens and your hearts.

When there are exceedingly tight trines, squares, crosses, this is a cue, a clue, that this is not accidental, do you see?

Love those who cannot see anything before them but coincidences, or randomness. Love them and understand this thinking can make a person feel lonely and small and cut off from that which has a hand in creating them. Love them and show them kindness. It is the truth of it, all seek their own way, and this is the way of it. All have free choice.

Allow the beauty of your recognition to flow through you, and allow others their vantage point. Let the beauty you know is shining down from the skies imbue your walk and your talk, and let this gentleness of countenance ease those who believe themselves to be alone, without connection to the others or to the stars or to their source. Love them more.

Love them any way.

Of course, with all things there is progression, and we would like to end by reminding you that these crosses, and the triggers which have been taking up attention, and will continue to pique interest, are anticipated, known, charted.

Take care to take interest in any celestial event that is unplanned or spontaneous. This seems to go without saying, but there will be more activity, and unplanned events speak just as loudly as those which you can map out. Perhaps a slightly different delivery, same language.

There is beauty within the astrological and astronomical events which are occurring today, have been occurring and will continue to occur. This cycle of crosses began when your consciousness, as a group, sharpened. There can be no true causal determinant. It is a beautiful system of cooperative love.

Are you not aware of the culmination of things which had their beginning twenty years ago, nineteen years ago? Can you not feel the turning, the spiral activity in your life story, in your spiritual journey, in your walk home?

You are on holy ground, each of you, as you walk this earth, your presence here was planned. You are integral to the plan, and we wish to leave each of you with a sense of place, place within your chests, in your skin, and wherever you happen to find yourself, in circumstance, this day.

You are part of a group whose sole mission is to hold these secrets and go about daily life. Yours is to hold the knowledge and function as someone who does not have this access, through their soulic choice. This has been your task, but you are now finding that the knowledge is no longer able to be held, yes? Have you found that holding back is more difficult?

This is how to leave you, telling you that you are indeed a golden one, reader and writer, and those who may not see this for some time, we must tell you this. Yes, physical life is captivating and mesmerizing, and it is supposed to be enthralling, captivating, engrossing. Yes. This is so.

And so we say, for those who are not longer able to be so captivated by the electro-magnetic-chemical wash of your physical vehicles, you have geometrics to thank, in part.

The very medium in which you function has altered due to magnetically induced changes to the grid, and these changes, our dear loves, these changes were brought about by you, called for by you, and are your ancient song of home.

Can you not take comfort in knowing that you are where you need to be, at the level of growth you need to be for this grand moment, this Grand Cardinal Moment?

No worries need touch you, and we ask you to consider the taking on of the mantle which you have called to you. A master you have always been. A master you are. A master is how you shall be known. Allow this new mastery to overtake and soften your countenance.

By accepting the responsibility and the power, understand, nothing is ever the same. Does it not make sense that accepting the mantle of mastery requires removing the cloak of denial you have all been wearing so modestly?

By now you have been trained in the ways of love, and are well versed in walking a master’s walk.

Let it be so this day.

Deeply Awake — Once Upon A Time 1-31-14 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — Once Upon A Time 1-31-14 By Kathy Vik


There once were twin princesses, neither parent nor child ever having any proof of it, all knowing it to be so. As they grew in their adoptive home, developed brilliance of mind, sparkling wit, giving hearts, thoughtful utterings, compassionate behavior.

It seemed that, regardless of what they experienced, these two girls grew and grew into fine young women, still convinced, each were, that they did not belong to this life, yet neither uttering a word of their suspicions.

They remembered, with fondness, their loving mother, long gone, as each grew older. On it went for our twins, well into their fifties.

And then, one day, something began to change.

Each of the siblings began to have stirrings, seeing changes, vast and small, happening, feeling on a course which has its own greater mind, each of them convinced things would remain hard, just never quite right, never quite satisfying.

There came certified mail to the sisters, on the same day, deeds, receipts for cash, checkbooks, paperwork for belongings they knew nothing about.

With each of the bundles was a note which read,

“We have watched with pride all these years, as you have struggled and made your way in this world.

We see that you understand now, at long last, each of you has come to understand that it is in perception which lies true power, and we have seen the intent of your perception shift, we have felt it. You have been heard.

We wish for you to take your rightful place as heir to wealth of which you remember nothing.

We wish to impress upon you your lineage, your ancestry, and what was theirs is, of course, yours, and so, you begin to intuit, these gifts are not merely physical, these gifts, many yet to come, are part of your past, part of your memory, if you will.

This sense will make it hard to truly establish ownership of anything, isn’t that a hoot!

In any case, you are unaware of the wealth at hand simply because the veil is still drawn over certain aspects, but, if you will expand your thinking, imagine having lived in the castle now being willed you, back when it was built, in 1106.

Consider this.

These are gifts which are earned, and as such, we wish you to conduct yourselves as the true queens you are, no longer serfs, no longer convinced that you are ill-equipped, we see your surprise, we do, dear ones, when your reaction, a kind one, comes from you, and surprises you? We see your quick return to center now. And so, the gift-giving can commence.”

Each of the women sat with this letter crumpled in the hand, their laps covered with papers.

No return address. Typewritten, no signature.

After talking it over, the two decided to be vaguely hopeful, and checked on some of the documents. All legitimate, all accessible, a whole lot of cash. Properties, too. All neatly documented, legitimate.

Sometimes, one would call the other and say, “How could it be? Every problem solved. Sure, there’s always something, but, the big, nasty stuff, solved. How is that?” Marvel, they would, for as long or short as one or the other needed.

Wealth, or at least ease, spread, wherever the two queens went. No friend in need went without, and it delighted them to find that the more they gave, the more they seemed to accumulate. It was a curious flip of physics neither of them expected when doing their monthly books. But there it was, in black and white, a trend which couldn’t be refuted.

One of the twin queens decided to think on money as freedom, and so she was filled with peace, because she felt free.

The other decided money was freedom, and began to worry, just from time to time, about when it might end.

She didn’t share her doubt, but there it was, sometimes waking her up in a cold sweat. What if? What if it all goes away? Then I will be trapped, but worse than before!

Over the phone one afternoon right after this horrible anxiety woke the queen up for the last time, the secret was confessed, the fear revealed. Her twin laughed and said, “I’ve had that. You have to realize, remember, it’s about perception. See things clearly. Trust.” Her twin kept still, and the silence was held well by the two of them. Finally, the worry seemed irrelevant, a scary story once told with feeling, now a fading memory.

From here, where do the queens go? What do they do? What might they pursue?

If you had every single financial obligation met, and plenty of money just lying around, what would you do? We played this game at work one night, just spontaneously, and it was so fun! Just imagine it. What would you do?

My friend Diane and I buy lottery tickets, just one a piece, so we can bask in the days between the drawing and checking our numbers, those days and sweet sweet nights when everything is possible, quite possibly so. Delicious.

Some of us still struggle, and some of us are doing well, and I really didn’t want to make a fable about the virtues of money, but I guess the end of the fairy tale is the homework assignment. What would you do if you were the twin queens?

If you had so much money that anything you wanted to create, you could, anything you wanted to buy, you could. I used to think this an exercise in futility, or sort of going all Brazil on my mundane life, but, no, I think there is something to it. It feels so good.

And it’ll surprise you, how it changes and morphs, as you do. Some aspirations continue, but some come and go. Both Diane and I see ourselves as philanthropists, just currently without funding. We are quite the pair.

Maybe the moral of the story is that, as a queen or a king, delivered to you is a package saying, well, ok, here it is, all of it, and it’s not that you deserve it or that you earned it, but that it’s yours, so do with it what you will… That this is not a bad exercise for each of us to do, and to apply it to all situations, really, or as many as possible.

It’s a mindset. It’s hard for me to capture, hence the writing, but it has to do with grabbing hold of life, participating, taking chances, so they seem, having adventures. It’s been a solid year since my kid and I have been able to afford a vacation, two years since we got rid of internet and cable.

Lean times, my friend.

So does this fable help me cope with my dreams having not yet come true as I’d hoped? No. because I have faith. I know things are going to change. Things are getting better, all the time. I can feel it. It’s really quite remarkable. Pleasurable. Unexpected.

I don’t think it’s a fable, by the way. I believe that you put this vibe out long enough, strong enough, pure enough, well, imagine what will come back. Just imagine. So I am putting my order in, at night, before sleep, I untether and imagine opening this crinkly, regal package, with melted sealing wax and scrolls and stuff, and there it is, I’m free. Now what? I lay in this, buoyed, easy.

In closing, I will say that I am beginning to see that I have many things to be grateful for. I was thinking, for a little bit, that I am happy because of my new job. And isn’t it a shame that I wasn’t ready before now? But, the truth is, I am so much different than the person I was two years ago, and being in yet again another unfamiliar place, I am making my way as a new, but familiar, person.

I’m easy going, overall, restless, curious, friendly, and that’s just not who I was two years ago. I thought just this morning, “Well, imagine that, all it took was a better fitting job to cheer you up.” Sounds like something my mom would say. But it’s not that. It just isn’t. Caterpillar, cocoon, butterfly, dude.

So, I’ll keep opening my package, at night, before bed, and then imagine all the good I could do, and all the fun I could have, and that leads me to peaceful nights of sleep. I mentioned this at length, before, and I have no idea why it bears repeating.

The car is the other place I feel free. I found during my wild vacation, and since then, that I like doing whatever will make me feel the freest, the happiest. I remember that’s how I got so shiny, a year ago. I want to get there again.

I think imagining finding out one is not a scullery maid but a her-royal-highness is a fine way to start a day, here, today. Why not. It could happen.

I’ll close with something I told Diane a few weeks after it happened. I was getting ready to take a shower, and all of a sudden I had a sort of double-over moment, seeing this beautiful old castle, ancient, with vivid green grass, and I was told, or understood, that I owned this, this was once my home.

I have inherited it, the voices told me, it’s mine.

Interesting this comes up again. It is, in the end, simple metaphor, at a certain level, and it feels good to be free of the metaphors now and then.

Material worth is far less important to me than spiritual clarity. I’m aware that what goes around comes around.

I remain royally optimistic, while finally finding myself able to move ahead a space or two. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so good. So, here’s to all good things!

Deeply Awake — From Worrier To Warrior 1-15-14 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake — From Worrier To Warrior 1-15-14 By Kathy Vik

I have much to report to you today, and expect this could be a long one, but I think what I am anticipating is not length but girth, so to speak. The thoughts, the events, the understandings, they have come at me fast and full since my last essay, and it is wise to let come what will come, to share with you the point of it all, and discuss, then, how I got here, since this is my way.

Although my last essay may not have been the best, something happened to me after writing it. I felt so good, so unburdened afterward, and these sensations followed me, seemed to increase as time passed.

I had to scratch my head about it a few times. Within the essay was, I thought, nothing all that new, but, the act of writing it, and its contents, surely, led me to peace, to a clearing in a very congested wood. Usually this sensation comes after having written something of brilliance. My last essay was not all that brilliant. And yet, there I was, feeling like a newly minted coin.

I had been anticipating seeing Lee Carroll, being in Kryon’s presence, for many months. The date was set, Saturday, January 11. The whole thing had the absolute pristine quality of high, high ceremony, of sacredness. I think back on that day, and the night before, and my preparations that morning, and it still floods me, a stillness, that place I have reached at other important moments in my life when I know, I just know, I am doing God’s work, and God indwells me.

Because I have let much time pass, unpacking the events which followed may indeed be a longer project than not, but still, there are things to tell you here, now, today.

I think, now, that the biggest gifts I got were not even in the channel. Dr. Todd and another guy got up and did a tone jam, after Dr. Todd’s talk.

I preface this with telling you I don’t know much about what folks call toning, but that, when I was in tremendous pain in my hip, probably six months ago, while in a state of meditation, I was led to place my hands thus and so, and to utter the most powerful and weird sounds I have ever uttered.

I know now I as toning, I know now I was remembering, and I know now that this is something deep and true, just for me, maybe, but so precious I want to share it with you. I never questioned the importance, or the reality, of my Lemurian roots, but again and again I was shown, I could do nothing but conclude, that this really is my heritage. How nice.

The jam was so freeing. Any sound, any sound, it came, and there was beauty and humor and delicious freedom in each sound. They toned, and then many of us chimed right in, and I found I knew this way, I had memories, I had a knowing. Again and again, I knew I was remembering a home, a time of great happiness and integrity, home here on Earth.

The morning of the event started powerfully. I got there early and, after finding my seat, chosen months ago by me in meditation, anchoring a corner, I got up and looked at the vendors’ wares. I went to the Lemurian Sisterhood Crystal Pendant table.

There were crystal pendants, that my physical mind told me looked awkward and odd. Then one called to me. I picked it up. Good God Almighty. I held it, and from somewhere I am no longer unacquainted welled a tremendous wave, of longing, of home, and of homecoming, celebration, relief, such relief. I didn’t have the choice. I stood there holding that pendant, crying. Weeping, actually.

I did it discreetly, but weep I did. I smiled at the vendor lady, and the lady said, don’t worry about it, I have seen this reaction before. She was kind. I said I was light in the wallet, and she smiled and said, “Then you come and hold her during the breaks.” I did just that. It never got sold, that one. It’s mine, you see.

That was before the first welcome had been said to the group, before the doings. It started with a bang, with a gong of recognition and homecoming.

It was harder than I had imagined it would be, being in that space for nearly twelve hours. I felt, again and again, the desire to get up and co-present, or to at least add my two cents and augment the discussion.

I felt this dissonance acutely. Me, a simple nurse with a sad backstory and no letters behind my name, no long history of being a “healer,” no having given myself over to this counter-culture, I felt that I had no right to feel adept, and yet I knew of my right and ability to lead such a day, helping others. I felt awful, at certain points, sick with wanting to lead, and knowing it was inappropriate. It felt like nausea, but it was deep and it led to many changes, I will tell you.

I think that the worst is over. It took a few days to heal, to really really heal, and the holy people who helped us all that Saturday are my friends, my loved ones, each adding to a cacophony of dissonance and recognition within me that has since turned into a symphony.

By the end of it, and the day after, I felt as if what I have devoted my life to these last two years was as thin as paper, as precious as an innocent, as in process as a fetus. I felt unjustified, and I felt unlettered, untested, but fully certain I deserved more than I have allowed in my life thus far.

I will now tell you of a dream I had during these days of healing I have had. I dreamt I was in an old car, like a Rambler or a Studebaker, with three people I knew to be my angels, part of me, but bigger, and yet, they were just as physical as I. I wasn’t driving. We were driving up a hill, and I looked outside and saw a big river. And then, I saw an unthinkable thing.

A flood. A great swell of brown water was surging down the hill, and the water coming was, I knew, completely transfiguring the land and river. It could be no other way. Nothing could ever be the same. It was the big one.

I flashed to the enormity of the deluge, the great flood, the one that wiped everything away for one last chance, the chance we are now in. I turned from the sight in peace, excited in that weird way I have always had, when I see such events, sort of relieved, I guess, and excited.

Next, we were in a pastoral scene, and we passed over a bride. Under the bridge was a river, and the water was clear. I saw scores of lambs who were also dogs. They were lined up, three across, and this went on the for the length of the little river, hundreds of animals placidly underwater, very neatly. The animals were stock still, as was the water, really, but I understood that these creatures were fine, they were still somehow alive, but their state was one of being underwater now, that this is what they are now.

Then I was in a school, and I was changing into different items of clothing. I had my friends with me. I was a teacher, and I was a motor mouth, and so happy to be changing out of my wet clothes. I’d never been touched by the flood. I had gotten wet while teaching, others had gotten my clothes wet.

There was so much more to this dream, but that’s what I caught. I layed real still, wishing to capture all of it, and I thought on this fresh dream as I always do my dreams, wanting to capture the essence of it, knowing the visuals were much like mnemonics, so I laid there asking to instill within the images the understandings I had reached. I was told, I understood the following:

There has been a flood, and many people are now under water, the ones who have always done what the other guys has done, those who have felt it impossible or uninteresting to question, all of them are now still alive, but immobilized by this clear, clarifying water. It is not mine to grieve for those who now are underwater, and I was told, and understood innately, to not grieve for them. They are fine. They are fine.

And then I am told, notice where you were in relation to the flood. Notice you were never alone. Notice you had a light heart and you were safe throughout. Notice that you were a teacher, between scenes, between classes, so to speak. Notice you were always traveling, and that you consistently were safe above the destruction. Notice how lighthearted everyone was, how much joking and good humor and reassurance there was all around you.

This dream helped me a lot, as did another one I had just before seeing Kryon, in which a very very young man, still a virgin, but virile, he professed his love for me. He just loved me so much. He knew me, and loved me, unable to reach my maturity, incapable of it, but with such a pure, bright love. He brought me Korean, in little boxes and told me he was going to bring my favorite food to me every single night. He loved me, loved me, loved me.

And I felt sort of detached by it, but not creeped out by it, which is a real biggie. I chose, in the dream, even though there were others, mature, whip-smart, creatives who knew me and wanted me, I decided this pure love was more important to pursue and dwell within than any that could be given me by the others, with their deep thoughts and sparkling conversation. I understood this raw, unfiltered, eager and true love was my path, and after he complied with my insistence he tell his family of his great love and his decision to ally with me, we sat together at the play we’d gone to see, and I was home, loved and oddly more complete, sitting in that auditorium.

I tell you these intimate things because I think it matters to do so. And this, I think, is what has changed for me, most of all.

During the Kryon event, and especially when he was channeling, I saw my body all lit up, and I could sense there was a dark plug or cork in my pelvis, a plug which needed to get popped out, and hard as I tried, it wouldn’t dislodge. I asked for help, for continued support, in uncorking this blockage. I understood this was causing the hip and back problems, and it was purely energetic, and would, indeed, get dislodged, but it would take time.

I found the channel, frankly, quite distressing, and I rebelled against it. It caused me to feel great impatience, feeling like someone out of time and at odds with the times I now find myself in. Grand impatience. Impatience that felt like I was drowning, despairing, enraged, even.

The time of incremental change and coaxing the lost, who are leading us, to sanity, I feel, is long past, and yet, there sat Kryon, somehow finding a willingness to feed breadcrumbs to tyrants and oppressors. I hated that part, have no patience for it. It made me angry, to be honest.

But what sandwiched this ugly was what I needed to hear.

This is now a time of support for us, for me. The stairs have been climbed, the summit has been reached, and the struggle, the incredible hard work, is over. Yes, there are stairs to descend, and new muscle groups will be screaming just like other groups screamed on the way up, but it’s all downhill from here. There is support. Watch where you put your feet, but take a moment to see that the hardest work is done, the effort has resulted in a tangible change of condition, and allow a warrior’s peace to replace the dogged determination I once ate and drank and slept.

I took from this channel that the work was about to begin again, but it would be easier now. And I guess that is what I was rebelling against, that there has to be any work at all anymore.

And so, now, let’s move to the increments which allowed a great healing, ok?

The day before the Kryon event, my dad invited me out to the house for breakfast on Sunday, and my teacher Norma called to tell me the hen circle was on for Sunday afternoon. I remember thinking, well, isn’t that a nice turn of events, my day-after-Kryon all lined up so nice and pretty.

I see now that these great teachers of mine, disguised as they are, were in cahoots, were always part of the healing.

I will not discuss the particulars, but let it be known that the breakfast was a difficult one, altering, and powerful in its rawness, its ugliness, in its dissonance. My responses to it, not the event, let’s say.

I made it to the hen circle ragged and spent, disappointed and in such distress that I was crying in the car, crying as I sat down, overwhelmed was I, overwhelmed with a sense of despair and fatigue and disappointment that felt freaking cellular. It was, of course, to get me to the place where I could release that plug, unpop it.

I know I am being obtuse, and that’s just going to have to be ok this time. I will tell you of my meditation, and then continue.

Our last session of inner work had Norma, under ArchAngel Micheal’s direction, to place ourselves in front of us, and to talk with our selves like our Higher Selves.

I have learned, in meditation, the value of the twist, of feeling as if I am twirling, twisting, from my body, from my countenance, at the level of my thorax. The first time I did it was visceral, unforgettable. This time, the twist felt organic and easy. And I understood that I was talking as a golden being, my golden self.

I saw the sights I always see when channeling, and I understood I was able to then talk with, see, and love the me I have fashioned through the last 52 years. I was overcome with compassion for myself, as her, I loved my hair, my teeth, my stories and longings and disappointments, and more, my triumphs, my kindness, my intelligence, and just what I have done, and become. I felt love for my foibles and quirks, the things I often fall back into self-reproach for. I loved it all.

And so, we were told to build a fire, there in meditation, and to place in the fire anything we would like to get rid of.

I tried writing stuff on paper and burning that, but it felt unsubstantial, inappropriate for the fire, and too ephemeral. Suddenly, I realized I had brought a suitcase, a big black one on rollers. I pulled it up to the fire, and tilted the open case into the fire, and out fell an impossible amount of moist, unburnable junk, just tons of it. Once the case was empty, I thought, oh what the hell, and tossed the case into the fire too.

Even though it shouldn’t have, everything in that case, burned up, was just gone, and the ash lifted to the skies. There was time, in meditation, so then, I decided I could just get rid of all of it. I summoned a garbage truck, the kind that mechanically poops out streams of garbage. I backed that thing up to the fire, and it was the funniest thing… only one little thing got pushed out, and plop it landed in the fire, fizzled, burned up. It was a little toy, I remember.

I felt new afterwards, and when I told the group about what I did, they laughed and laughed, because I had burned up all my baggage. I laugh now, too. That’s exactly right.

But the thing that healed me the most of all was what a woman in that circle told me. I was in distress, and had completely and with disciplined abandon unfurled my pain for them.

She said, “You emit such love, you just give it off,” (and the others all said, oh that’s so true!), “and you’re trying to figure out how it is someone could act so bad, and, Kathy, the problem is you CAN’T understand it. It’s not in your nature to understand this awful stuff. You don’t have to make sense of it. Just see that it is not something you can even relate to.”

And then, as I was processing, I said, “I don’t want to do this wrong!”, and there was this great soul, again saying, “You aren’t doing any of it wrong. You can’t. You’re doing everything right.” Hugs, tears, relief.

There came upon me a peace, a gratitude, that I find so beautiful, so strong and pure, sitting there knowing I was being healed, not by a great channeler or a world-renown philosopher, but my friend, who said just the right thing, at just the right time, who let me have my tears and my fears and my doubts, and who, big as day, bright as the sun, told me I was ok, I was doing fine, I was love itself, and to just relax…

I have no way to ever paying her back, and I guess that I say that because I understand that I have been given something by her, by all my friends in that circle, that I needed, and that only they could give to me.

I think that the biggest gift I got at the Kryon thing was my impetuous decision to attend the three hour Lemurian Sisterhood ceremony. It was the highlight for me, and because I really do not know how much of it is ok to share, I will tell you of a few things, and the impact it had on me.

Thanks for reading along. I feel so good talking to you. I love you, you know.

I want it said that I am in deep awe and reverence for how Lee Carroll conducts himself and his enterprise. I felt none of the pushiness that I feel in the general marketplace, with the products sold or the messages given.

I felt so honored, and so loved and respected, in that group. There were some massive egos in that room, but Lee was not one of them. A gentle man of peace. A good man, a kind and honest man, acting in integrity and honor. That I responded from a wounded place within me, the place of a leader without following, well, that is on me, not him.

The Sisterhood event was high ceremony, and led by a gentle one, steeped in metaphysical tradition and training. What has stuck with me are the exercises we were led in, and the meditations we had. It was so healing. I have long felt awkward as a woman, knowing I am powerful and not having any metric for it but maleness. To be around women who were also powerful, fully embracing their divine feminine bodies and beings, oh, this was the most healing of all.

Acknowledging we have awarenesses that men do not have, that we have a sacred power specific to our gender, oh my, this was central to it. To feel no shame as a powerful being, and to do it in the context of feminine power, this was key. Permission to be a powerful, knowing woman.

Again and again, it seemed that the theme was that we all take turns, healing and needing healing, in the group of women. Each able to help the other, each in need of help at times, we take turns on the table, at the center, we each can submit to help, and give what is needed.

We take turns, we women of power. Sometimes weakened, strengthened through the act of allowing others to minister to us. And this theme played itself out in my little hen circle. Being unable to do anything but crawl to the center of a circle of great lights, and lay there immobilized by the crushing weight of It All, and allowing another to love me, and by doing so, heal me, each of us had that experience that Sunday, its genesis in the rituals of the night before.

And so, it is time to discuss how it is that I have moved from the state of worrier to that of warrior.

Yesterday was one for the books. There was a ramp up of this energy Monday, several things coming to my awareness, in my activities, which were hard edged, an edge to everything, feeling out of place, but centered. And then yesterday. The troubles at school, with the teachers, it continues, but now I have such a strong advocate working for me that I can, and will, I have told her, let her take me inside the folds of her cloak, and she will be my protector, my champion, and my guide, through the next bit. It is ugly, what has been happening there, and without this help, it would be unbearable. I was confronted, again and again and again, through the day and into the night, with such rank stupidity, such bizarre stuff coming right from the center of fear itself, again and again, yesterday.

This morning, I understand some things.

I understand that this next part might get tilty from time to time. People are off their nut, a lot of them, acting in bizarre ways that I cannot fathom, and often cannot seem to predict or know to expect.

I used to get so upset when people acted badly. I felt implosion within me when confronted with unthinking, unkind, punitive behavior. I felt it might be mine. And, you know, sometimes it was, it really really was, but, I have moved from this now.

I understand that there are people, now, just like those lamb-dogs, who have gotten caught in the flood, and the water is a clarifying kind, one which makes these beautiful creatures act in odd and bizarre ways.

In meditation, after burning up my junk and my suitcase, this is what I was told: This is what you have trained for. All bets are off ( a favorite phrase of The Teachers). You are ready. Expect the unexpected (three times repeated). This is what the training was for.

And I see now that this might indeed be true. It’s not appropriate, now, to wring my hands in the face of grave imbalance and wonder how I brought it on, if I am the cause of it. No. And recognizing it does not make me bad or wrong, as loudly and hatefully as others may level such a lie. And shining very brightly while the trouble is going down, I am keeping my head, now, and staying within my power. This is the key.

Kryon said something in channel I wish to repeat. He said, turning the other cheek and staying in the power of the Love Of God, this is the path now. I think I was rebelling, that I would have to do this, that I would have to turn the other cheek, I did not like the thought of it.

But, the truth is, there are folks out there, in the world I know, who are unable to curb their reflex of attack, who act obscenely, minds and hearts overcome with the darkness each of us have battled and conquered, through these last years. There are those who are not in balance, not in alignment, and this will, I am thinking, only become more obvious. If I approach such things upset and saddened and a wreck, self-referencing and in despair it is happening, I can not be of help.

And this brings me to divinity.

Ever since the Kryon event, and during it, I kept feeling, seeing, me as golden. I could feel, even when I was working on Monday night, my body turn golden, and I felt like a golden one. I felt like a living angel. When it comes upon me now, I can feel my chest heat up and start tingling, and then the body flush. I feel my chest turn bright silver, with a huge geometric spinning within it. It has the quality of being like a new gift that I keep getting to unwrap, and I keep being floored with how good it feels.

At work, during one of those moments, I looked up at the monitors, which show every hallway from two angles, and I want to tell you what I saw. I saw a man’s face, looking at me. It was long enough and real enough that I unplugged my earphone and hid my phone, because I thought it was a stranger coming, who might think bad thoughts about my watching youtube at work.

I felt like it was a friend, and I got a flash, once I realized there was no man, no physical man, I heard, he’s on his way. This is the face. You wanted to know who is coming, and that’s him.

Your friend is real, can show up on the monitor, even, and he on his way.

He is real.

I saw him on the monitors. I considered asking the staff about whether the data is on some sort of recording, because I would have loved to search the tape for this face. But I smiled, knowing it maybe would and maybe would not show up. It was a gift. And the golden angel thing just burned and burned through me then.

Divinity. The whole Kryon thing was steeped in this message to me, to all of us. Kryon said, look a your Akash, understand that your DNA has within it the encodings of the grandparents of this whole project, millions of years of divinity, and you think you can just turn your current divinity on and off anymore. No. Walk in it, know it, own it, and act from it. You are divine. You are divine. You are divine.

And the Lemurian Sisterhood, the biggest gifts I was given were the prayers of acknowledging self, other, and all as sacred. Owning and walking within sacredness, within and from a knowledge of, not a hope for, divinity. Owning that I am a divine expression of the love which has always walked with me and guided my life.

It is hard to manage feeling this when being attacked, when being disrespected so thoroughly as I have been lately. It is hard, but it is no longer impossible.

And this takes me from the worries I have had, the anger I have felt about how my little life just will never work out the way I want it to (cue the mewling and tears…) to knowing, understanding, owning the truth of it, that as a divine being of light, as a profound truth-teller, and a powerful angel of limitless love, imagining that my little life will never work out is just an exercise in self-pity, fatigue and disbelief.

As a worrier, I thought on how I have failed. As a warrior, I understand there is nothing here but divinity to express, to experience and to integrate.

So, now, I want to have a little walk through the punch line, and then I will end for the day and do other things.

The punch line is that I have always wanted to know I can handle myself, to know I am intact, to know my power and use it well. I have longed for this work to be read and used and seen as something other than the mad scribblings of a narcissist. I have wanted to be heard, understood and appreciated for my wisdom and wealth of knowledge and my great thoughtfulness.

I have wanted to be valued for what I bring to the table, talents and abilities which are, frankly, immense. I know I will never, am incapable of the abuse of my power. And yet, I have spent a lot of time fretting that this writing of mine is not an act of power, but one of vanity. I know it isn’t true, but I have had a deep worry about it. I have thought it is not valuable because so few see it as valuable.

And the punch line is that what I have feared the most is just my getting into the jumpsuit. A friend in my hen circle teared up when she expressed her inner desire to be more fearless and spontaneous, when she is the hands down the most fearless, spontaneous one of the group. And here I have sat, fretting that my great ability and love, this writing of my soul, is unimportant.

The worry is not fitting of the work. Of course it is valuable. If only for me. It has saved my life. My power of melded emotional intelligence shines through every line. What is on the page is what I have been and what I am becoming, and to think it is not valuable is the real ugliness. A trick of the dark, and that is all.

Seeing The Other as someone who may not actually be a direct reflection of my inner state is a breakthrough of unprecedented proportion.

In a sword fight, with an aggressor coming at me with a sword that can surely slit my throat, wielded by a madman unaware of his or her innate power, that is not the time to dissolve into a puddle of tears, or doubt, or fear. That is the time to understand that all those years of training with the sword has made me a consummate warrior, one who has already won the skirmish, and one who does not want to draw blood, who wants to use her sword to quell the aggressor, and demonstrate that the aggressor is outclassed, from before the battle began. I can use my sword to deflect murderous blows. I can use the blade to catch the sun and blind my opponents, bringing them to a still place, one which cannot and will not support further aggression.

I am a warrior of the light, and I am no longer afraid to speak my truth. I trust my words are gentle and kind, true and just, and that this heart is one which is unwilling to harm. I am unable to harm, and maybe that is the biggest punch line of them all. A warrior disinterested in fighting. Someone quite capable of simply decapitating the enemy, wanting instead to lead the enemy to a clear brook, where we can lay down arms and have a nice chat.

There is no fight left in me, I have said again and again in this writing, and it continues to be true, but the last few days have shown me that this next part may be punctuated, with moments of standing tall, bringing myself to full height, and using all of what I have become to help another.

This can be done in clever ways which will not draw blood, and after the battles which I expect may be part of the weave, I will rest, lay down the sword this silly aggression mandates I continue to wield from time to time, and I will sit with you, dear friend, and we will talk all about it, how hot we get in our armor when in battle, how relieved we are when everybody can just put down their weapons and laugh out loud, and we can, too, take time to think lovingly on those who are still so convinced that the way of it must include mortal combat. We know, by now, that we cannot die, that we are protected, and it is we who have made ourselves undetectable.

I end with a thought I have been having lately.

The Teachers trained me for this time. They told me there would come a time with the light would become very intense, and the dark would fight tooth and nail. I asked them, well, it’s happening already, so why is it that sometimes I lose?

They said, you know, sometimes the dark appears to win, in a battle. Sometimes things look a little grim. But it is not true. The light always wins, and this is what will improve. You feel beat up now, they would say, but you just wait. There will come a time when you will not be beatable, and you’ll know then that time is.

That time is now, my great, mirth-filled, profane, sainted friend. That time is NOW.


Deeply Awake CHANNEL –The Weave 12-29-13 By Kathy Vik

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Deeply Awake CHANNEL –The Weave 12-29-13 By Kathy Vik

And so your year ends. A year of change which, we are aware, many will look back upon in wonder, and delight, as they see that what is to come was present during a year of flux, shift, change and growth, much of it under the hood, under the covers, under the surface, shall we say, brought forth now, as time, for you, progresses.

We wish today to speak of things which have not as yet been spoken by many, but are felt by many, intuited, quietly observed but unlanguagable, we say.

We ask that you consider the weave of a fabric, and look upon this tapestry now, looking at the front, and the back, please, feel free to turn it in your hands, or in your mind. See the pattern that is made and see that it is a pleasing pattern, a portrait, perhaps, an idyllic scene with a farm, with fertile earth, the beasts and beings upon it at peace with her, whatever the image, let it be one of peace and of beauty now.

You will see that what one side says, the other only implies. The portrait you envision is brought into form because, on the other side of this fabric is what can easily appear to be chaos, threads only intimating a cohesive pattern of beauty, you see.

This is much like how this physical reality is for many. We urge you to consider that, as a novice with a needle, threads can appear completely tangled, there is, perhaps, no discernible pattern at all, looking at the back of the tapestry.

And with time, with practice, with dedication and passion, the artist with her needle then begins to use the materials of her craft in a more precise manner, and, can you notice, that although the picture part of this fabric may appear unchanged, as the needleworker progresses in her love, the back of the picture, the threads creating the art, begin to more closely resemble the picture itself. There is cohesion, a mirroring, we say to you now.

This is to of course imply many things. Not only does your skill create symmetry, but there is a meld, and this is what we must now discuss with you, our beloveds, our beloveds, all.

You have, each of you, survived, have you not? This year behind you, now passing away, you have survived it, and are able now to look upon it, yes? And when you do, we can tell you now, that the weave, the origin, the back of the portrait, has become more cohesive. This is due not only to your own willingness to embody a more multidimensional reality in your timeline, but it is too, on our part, a meld, we with you, so that what once appeared to be chaos now is cohesive.

We tell you that perception is a most powerful tool, and in this regard, there may be many who choose, now, to focus, much like many of you did previously, on the seeming chaos that is multidimensional, your home, quantum reality, the godhead. And this may be seen, demonstrated by many, as seemingly incomprehensible behavior, antithetical to goodwill and kindness, integrity and harmony.

When looking upon another’s imbalance, or what you surmise is unbalance, we ask that you have patience, and remember the months, and for some, years, of needlework you have so diligently done, in order to get to the time and place where the back looks more like the front, the front looks more and more magnificent and skillful and pleasing, and we ask that you allow the chaos to be. Just let it be.

Can you allow others their process, now that many of you have found a new energetic level from which you are beginning, ending and inhabiting all through your day? Has it not occurred to you that the chaos is just as purposeful as the order, the origin just as perfect as the end product?

We are gratified when, in the midst of another’s chaos or fear, or your own, dear ones, as these waves roll in, we are gratified when you can close your eyes, smile, and lean back into our arms.

Many of you do this consciously, and many of these do it now without prompts, without pain leading to prayer, without suffering. Leaning back into your beloved’s arms, through each day, now, and into each night, we are holding you now, and you are actively seeking out this meld.

And you know, dear ones, beloveds, now, you do know now, that what you are leaning into, relaxing into, is you, your origins, the reality from which your experience springs.

It is no longer the time to give tools, tips, lists, techniques, for those who now to lean back and relax, they are finding the tools already in their hands, the courage already in their hearts, the tender mercies which make all glow already on their lips, in their mouths, in their hearts.

But it is good and wise to have a clear sense of things, in linear reality, to have some sense of not perhaps what comes next, but the overall gestalt in which you operate. Many are finding details unnecessary, techniques facile, lists a chore rather than a help.

And so we tell you of some of the bigger things to come, in that you are creating, those who seek out and read, and those who do not but can resonate with that which is written, a new energetic signature, so to speak, with which to work. And within this vibration, there are helpful hints we can pass along, as need be.

First, we remind you all that there has been a change in the collective, those whose intent is only for this, who know this is their only true purpose, this light, this great love, this peace. For those, have you not noticed how your perception has changed?

Many are noticing that their dreams are not only more vibrant, but seem to be specific to what is at hand in the physical. Many have already begun to use their dream time to achieve union and solve problems. Many are going to bed with a prayer of thanksgiving and purpose on their lips, intent on using their dream time for healing and clarity.

Many have understood, by this time, that the dream state is your time of integration, and of gifts, of deep communication with yourselves and with us. It is you who are coming back with profound truths, only for you, perhaps addressing minutia, and perhaps pertaining to the grand collective that is greater humanity. In any case, many are realizing a newfound sense of home in their beds, in their sleep, and are sleeping better.

We celebrate this, your laying your heads down happy, anticipating your reunion with your selves and with us. We are happy for this, we smile and celebrate, this new found communion you have discovered.

Although it appears to be a little thing, we tell you, your time spent in sleep is a great gift you are just now fully knowing that and how you can use, and many are going to bed looking forward, and trusting, now, that this is not just an annual thing, or a sporadic thing, profound and prophetic dreams, but a constant. Constant, to be counted on, dear ones.

Also, many have noticed changes in their sensual perception, and by that we mean that your eyesight, your hearing and your intuition, all your senses, they are integrating in new ways, and you are, many of you, hearing us, that which is us, and you, a meld, again we say, all through the day, every day. Many notice when their energy is different, each day perhaps different than the last, but all are improving, and the clarity, we tell you, this clarity will not abate, but will strengthen.

Many learned the joy in delighting of self, of finding within any moment, conflicted or still, some delight in which to partake, some way to make even the most contentious events manageable and loving. This is an art, a science, and it is advanced, dear ones. Not everyone can do this. Feel pride, feel gratitude, for this ability. It is no small thing.

Many have wondered when their lives would “get off the dime,” we enjoy slang. This sense of being in perpetual stasis, it is beginning to break apart for most, and for some, this has already begun.

We tell you, since the shift many felt physically, over Christmas time, a marker was passed, a collective push, a collective gift, a collective octave change, and as a result, many are already seeing that their lives are in motion now, their linear lives, their storylines beginning to morph. It is already beginning.

We ask you for your patience and forbearance, and for you to bring back into yourselves the truth of it, that your linear storylines are just that. To be treated with the dignity, respect, honor, and awe they deserve, for it is only in linear time that these great wonders can indeed manifest as anything other than potential.

And so this is where we wish to end this short message. In reminding you that the weave is much more cohesive, and that which appeared to be chaos is coming into focus.

Many see the weave and only see chaos, still, and we ask you have patience and tolerance for those lost in the threads of their thoughts and their storylines.

Give room for those who are in disturbance, and allow them to see your peace, to feel it and know it, as you pass by them, or stop to encourage them.

Give them this great love you have found, and know so well. Remember that you, and they, are not the weave, are not the needle or even the thread, but the one who found it the ultimate act of love, creativity, profound and collective JOY to engage in this needlecraft.

You have set up and are working on a picture, a work of high art. Let identifying with both craft and its product pass. You are the one who thought up the design, and this is the truth of it.

What has occurred to many is a meld of creator with weaver, sewer with design. Allow each their portraits, allow each their pictures, and give love to those who are cursing their project, give love to those who are wanting to rip threads and start over, and give love, so much love, feel our love, to your selves, the ones who are happily stitching, skilled and calm, artists, great artists, each.

This meld can but continue, and we ask for your patience as the picture progresses. Do not worry so much that your past designs were perhaps childlike. With this knowledge, now that you have this perspective, can you not see that what you once created was crude, but you hung with it, did you not, and now, allow the canvas to roll, and allow yourselves to weave, create, a new design, an amplification of the old, perhaps seemingly childish ones.

Allow your mastery to shine, and allow your art to speak for your awareness. There is no need to explain how it is you came to be holding this needle and thread, or why you hold it thusly. No need to instruct. Your art will speak volumes to those who are paying attention. They will learn technique from you simply by your being present, happily and humbly displaying your tapestry, your life, your choices.

Do you see that what is done is now done, and your needle is now moving from the art you have been working on? Roll that canvas out and have fun, stitch as you see fit! With this great love, and with your innate, and earned, skill, any design which resonates with that which you touch and commune in dream time, this is now your joy, and All That Is, All Who Are, are celebrating your new found freedom of expression.

You are loved. You are magnificent, and you are honored, in this world and in worlds you cannot even imagine. We know you have grander perspectives now than in older days, but we end by saying, you do not know that which you do not know, and it is in doing, it is in weaving, sewing, actively creating, that has All holding its breath in joy, in pride, in celebration, in deep recognition, and in love.


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 CHANNEL — Lighthouse By Kathy Vik 8-18-13

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Deeply Awake — Lighthouse By Kathy Vik 8-18-13

Once there was a lighthouse. It was a sturdy and stout one, and one which had not been in existence until fairly recently. Fresh paint, now just gently weathered by a few storms, many, the lighthouse admits, on dark and starless nights, there were many it did not think it was going to survive.

A little thrill runs through our little lighthouse, thinking, happily, gratefully, joyfully, of those pounding waves, those deep, velvety nights of terror. It shivers then, and catches itself thinking, “my goodness, I did get scared there, a time or two!”

Time passed, and storms passed, over our little lighthouse, having been painted green, then red, then pale yellow. The lighthouse had never been able to shake its sense of loneliness, a visitor who would visit during daylight hours especially, and would skip and jauntily dance around the lighthouse’s base, reminding the little lighthouse it had never had a real conversation, and certainly never with another lighthouse.

The little imp would scamper and toss barbs, little passive insults, about something over which the little lighthouse had not one iota of control. The little lighthouse knew it would always stand here, on this gorgeous cliff, alone, without a fellow, without companion.

And so, on a particularly hot and still summer night, the lighthouse did something that later made it chuckle, in surprise, at how clever it was.

The little lighthouse was alone that night, on its rocky hill, and was glad of it. It began to think on the words of its perpetual visitor, reminding it that it would never see any of its own kind, ever.

The little lighthouse thought about it like this: If I can make up that imp who always insults me, maybe I can make up another lighthouse instead?

And so, right there, on that muggy night, the little lighthouse seemed to pop right out of its pale yellow skin, and there it stood, just its light. It looked at its solid form, there in the moonlight, and knew that everything was good, just as it should be, and it was safe.

And then, it taught itself how to fly.

It did not seem that much of a stretch, to the lighthouse, since it had already seemed to pop out of its own skin.

And so, the little lighthouse went on adventures, and visited many coasts, many shores. It saw how other lighthouses were constructed, and was awed by the creativity and beauty of each and every one of them.

He saw that some lights were just amazingly, beautifully bright, and others were dimmer, but all seemed to have this great ability of helping, just by doing that which came totally naturally.

These visits, these excursions, they became an almost full-time thing, at a certain point. The lighthouse found itself completely in love with everything that was out there in the vastness, of such immense beauty and singularity of purpose.

And then, the little lighthouse realized a great truth.

The little lighthouse realized that it had gotten very comfortable being away from its own self. The lighthouse had nearly forgotten, truth be told, that it had a form, a structure, something form which it had sprung.

And so, because the lighthouse had gained much in the way of knowledge and inner balance and good common sense, the little lighthouse decided it was probably a good thing to settle into its old building once again. To sort of snuggle into the bricks and wood, and to smell the old carpet, hear the sizzle of the bulb during a terrific storm, and yes, it felt good to have lighthouse feet that were once again cold at night and hot during the day.

And so, the lighthouse got accustomed to being a lighthouse again, having had many adventures in imagining.

One night, when the little lighthouse was re of many ships in its sea, the lighthouse had a thought.

It realized, in wonder and curiosity, how it was that in all of its travels, having seen so very many lighthouses, probably all of them, the lighthouse wondered how it could be that it had never struck up a conversation with one of them.

For all its longing to know other lighthouses, it reflected that it had seen probably all of them, on every bit of coast, around the whole globe, but he’d never once said “hi” to any of them.

Then the lighthouse had a thought that chilled him.

None of those lighthouses had said “hi” to it first.

Come to think of it, it had always given the little lighthouse pleasure to know it could visit any lighthouse it wanted, but never really be acknowledged. It had enjoyed being invisible, and this had led it sometimes to wonder if any of it was even real.

And so, in the still of the night and into the hours of dawn, the little lighthouse stayed with that thought. And then it decided that it should be left there. What had seemed natural, flying around and observing, filling up on the beauty and magnificence of the whole thing, was beginning to look less like some sort of special gift, and more like not enough. What had been amazing, so exciting! had now, quite suddenly, become not quite enough for it.

But it did not know what to do, if anything, so it just sort of crawled into its light bulb, and enjoyed beaming this light, not even to anyone in particular. It smelled the grass and the fishy mists blowing in now, and it just became.

Later, the lighthouse would wonder just how long it had become its light, joyously oblivious to anything but being its light. It could never fully reckon the time. But it knew its light, very very well, by the time its next visitor came.

One chilly October night, our little lighthouse became aware of a sensation it had never had before.

There, on the outskirts of its awareness, like a touch which could just be a whisper, there was a presence.

The lighthouse decided to really get into its bricks, into its planks, into its light. And when it felt really really solid, it called out to this presence, and said, “please, come here.”

And there, on the horizon, at first just a rumor of a pinprick of light, there, coming in now, coming in faster, was a great a powerful light.

The lighthouse became nearly blinded by this light, and could not see anything but that light. It had zoomed in very very fast, once the lighthouse had made the invitation. And there, its base turning frosty, the lighthouse was blinded by a light no one else could see.

The little lighthouse said, “Oh, my, who or what are you?”

“I,” said the light, “I am a clever one, like you.”

“What do you mean, clever?” the little lighthouse asked.

“Do you really think that you are the only one of us who have figured out how to fly?” And with that, the big light who’d come to visit our little friend, it bent in such a way to allow our little friend to see its visitor.

This was an ancient lighthouse, anyone could see that. In all its travels, it had never seen one this old. It was strong, massive in its strength, and it was well tended to, that was clear, but it held such an aura of wisdom, and quiet, and humor. It was beautiful, but a little intimidating.

“So,” our little friend asked, “You visit the others too? Why have I never seen you before?”

“Well,” the old one said, “I saw you flitting around a time or two, so I doused the light. I was not ready to meet you, nor you I.

It was not the time, because you were just learning your skills, and to speak with you then would have decreased your capacity for self-reliance, or so you told me, during dream time.”

“You must help me now with this ‘dream time’ stuff,” interrupted our little friend. “I don’t have dreams. I never go away. That has been one of my sadnesses.”

The ancient one chuckled, and said, “It seems there’s a couple of senses you have yet to develop, and I am happy to help you do so, if you wish, but I can assure you, we know each other well, and you and I are great friends during dream time.

That’s actually why I showed up tonight, you know.” And with that, the ancient lighthouse peered out onto the sea, and seemed to incongruously, imperceptibly, sway with the current, with the waves, with its friend.

“So,” our friend asked, “Why exactly are you here tonight? You know, I used to have a visitor who was not very nice. Are you going to be a similar nuisance?”

The ancient one quietly said, “That imp was one of your greatest teachers, young friend. That imp helped you think in ways that most of us do not. And so, I think it best to see all visitors as friends, but that is just me.” The old one turned and faced the sea again, this time for far longer, resting, it seemed, unwilling to discuss anything further.

The little lighthouse felt fascination, and was willing to suffer any little rebukes, understanding, as it sat with this visitor, that perhaps being guided in these next few steps wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

“So, then,” our friend, at last, offered.

So then, why am I here, is that your question?” the old one asked, tenderly now.

“Yes, my friend, I would like to know of your news. If you kept your light off for me before, then there must be a reason for you making this visit to me this night.”

“Indeed there is a reason, and it is a juicy one, one I think you will like a lot.” The ancient one now seemed to shiver with happiness, and seemed suddenly much younger and brighter than before.

It beamed a sweet, warm light at our little friend, and told it this.

“I came to you tonight to tell you that there was a reason that, in all your travelings, no other lighthouse spoke to you, and it never occurred to you to speak to one of them.

We, all we lighthouse, yes we have bulbs and machines and things that can break and need repair, sure, we get knocked around a lot and need a fresh coat of paint more often than most buildings, but, there is something about lighthouses that you do not know.

We are all able to be lighthouses because we have inside of us a light that matches the light we put out. Do you see? The light within you, the light which allows you to travel and think big thoughts, this light is internal. The bulbs and the machines, these are secondary, and if one structure gives way or is burned or broken, then another is built, and we then inhabit that structure, we light up the bulb with our will, with our purpose.

And that is the truth about lighthouses.

That is the dream time, but, you know, dream time is any time. Dream time can be all the time, my friend.”

The little lighthouse was the one, then to turn its light toward the sea. It had to think. It spent many moments in deep contemplation. It then turned toward the ancient one, and asked, “Why do you tell me this now? Why do I have to learn so long into this solitary life that I am connected with everybody else? Could I have been having conversations, friendships and such, all this time?”

“Oh, my little friend,” the old one chided, “don’t you see? If we are all connected, all part of a big light that splits itself off into these structures of ours, don’t you see, you HAVE been in conversation. You just need to see that this is what’s indeed going on, that’s all. No one kept this from you. You just weren’t ready until tonight.

You told me so yourself…”

“In dream time?” our little friend asked.

“Precisely,” said the old one.

“And so,” it continued, “tonight is a nice one to tell you that there is a change going on. You see, before, during your traveling years, we all had an agreement not to acknowledge one another, to not acknowledge ourselves, you see? But, during dream time, we decided that everything was ready, and we could start talking to one another again.”

“You mean, there was a time when we had these sort of conversations, together?” the little one asked, in awe.

“Oh, yes,” the ancient one chuckled again, “We used to have better conversations than this. Well, not better, just different. But they were different times, my friend. What is upon us now, they are even better times. This is just the beginning. Oh! You’ve not seen anything like it! Oh!”

And our ancient one was then overcome. It sniffled, and its light flickered, just for a moment, and then it continued.

“There are some of us, as your travels have shown you, that have been on coasts for a very long time. Our bodies were made to withstand a lot, because we wanted to be around to help you new ones, who are ready now.

There are old ones who have been asked to help the younger ones, and that is why I visit you tonight.

But before I continue, you must understand, remember what I said about when a lighthouse gets burned or broken and needs to come down? Then a new one comes up in its place, and the same light comes to dwell in the wood and concrete? Do you remember that?”

Our little friend did not need much more of an explanation. All at once, it understood. And it said, “So, are you here to remind me of this? To maybe not be quite so fooled about my age, my naivete, my not knowing some stuff?”

“Oh, I knew I picked the right one,” the old one beamed. “Yes, right you are. It is a gradual remembering, and we help you with this, and that is most of it, but it is not all of it.”

The lighthouses saw that dawn was moments away, the sky was about to burst with pink and purple and gold. In the tension within that moment, when night becomes something else, something else again, in that moment, they looked at each other. They saw each other. And they knew each other. They saw they were family, and this was a gift, this visit, which could never be forgotten.

“I’ve come to remind you that yours is not to struggle against the storms, or worry over them, or anticipate them, or think any thought at all about them, ever again. Yours is to know of your light, your service, and your family. Yours is to come join us, all of us.

Those who did not speak to you before, this is because that was the agreement, you all made it, and now you have broken it. It is just a matter of easing into it. You can do all your traveling again, but you will never be so disconnected from your structure. Imagine your flying, and being able to also be within your structure, feeling the heat of that bulb of yours, smelling the earth, knowing you are helping, and seeing the outcomes of others journeys. Imagine.

Imagine never being lonely again. You really don’t need to, and that is what the old ones are doing, going around and reminding our young friends, you are not alone, never have been, and we are so very proud of your beautiful work.

We have a message. We are telling all of you that this is the time of discovery, and of friendships, and of feeling a connection you’ve never known before. You will not feel alone again, because you will know that it is a false understanding. It is a misunderstanding, and that is all, to think you are out here, on this beautiful cliff, all on your own.”

“So, you will be helping me? How? When?” the little lighthouse asked.

“Do you see a physical structure in front of you? Honestly, do you? Have the construction men come and erected me next to you? No. We are connected by something far more durable than stone and tree. We are connected, as a family of purpose, each to the other, and at no time are you ever alone. You think on me, and I will be there. You may not see me quite as brilliantly as you do right now, but I am really focusing, and this is special, you see.”

“I am at your service,” the ancient one declared, and I am here to help you in any way you see fit. Do not forget about dream time, though, my friend. Do not forget there might be things you do not know about, yes?”

The little lighthouse thought about that and did not like the idea of being in the dark. It worked up its courage and said just that, tot he old one before it.

The old one was ready to finish, and the young one felt it. It did not want the connection to break. There was, to be honest, a little moment of panic, for our little friend.

“Do not fear, my great and true friend,” the old lighthouse said. “There is a bit more you must know before I can depart, this first time.

I want you to understand something as I leave, I want you to think on this in my seeming absence, and I really do want you to look forward to our discussions about this, and many other things, yes? in the times to come.

I did not tell you at first, but need to tell you now, it is something that all of we elders are passing on to our youth.

You understand that yours is to weather storms. The reasons for this are deep and beautiful, and we, each of us, wish you to honor just what it is you do. It goes unseen by you, most of the time, and we have been urged to remind you to spend just a little bit of your time thinking on you, on your light, on just what it is that you do. This is a good and right practice, one that will strengthen your light. You’ll be very surprised.

You remember, in your travels, how some lights were dimmer than others, yes? This is a deep and complex riddle, but one reason for this is often that the lighthouse does not even realize that it is a lighthouse! Imagine that! Imagine that!”

The ancient one laughed so hard that it began to cough, sputter, and needed a moment to compose itself, from all its mirth.

“Imagine a lighthouse unaware of what it is! Do you know how to solve this problem?” The ancient one asked then.

Our little friend had no answer. It seemed an unsolvable problem.

“Have you already forgotten, have you failed to bring it inside yourself, little one, that we share the same light?

Some do not wish to burn bright. Some do not know how. But most do not fully appreciate their beauty and their purpose. And that is all.

And when you young ones, you travelers, you clever ones, as you come to see this, then your light burns brighter, and, this is our goal, to make sure that there are enough of us burning bright, then all of our family can burn brighter. It is a collective thing, you see, a group endeavor.”

And with that, the ancient one seemed to tire. The little lighthouse wished to ease the old one, comfort it in some way, so it said, “I love you. Thank you.”

And with that, something good and strong and hopeful happened. The little lighthouse could feel it, and the old one could too. There was a surge, there was a push of light that our little friend had never felt before.

It felt good.

The little lighthouse smiled then, and could feel its friend the sun warm its hat, and match its light.

The ancient one and the young one sat together on that lonely cliff, and for a time, they knew, they felt, and they cherished that they were together, thinking thoughts which felt smooth and clear, thoughts each knew, sitting there together, these were moments that would come to them during their next storm, when the sea was black and the cries around them were especially pitiful. This moment, they would remember and cherish it.

It was the first time the young one knew it was not alone. It understood in a real way, even though it was talking to an apparition, it knew that there was nothing this old friend told it that was not true, somewhere down deep, in a true and pure place the lighthouse had always visited, and always longed for.

They say until mid-day. It just did not feel right to part until the sun was warm and there were children frolicking among the pumpkin patch the little lighthouse’s keepers loved.

And then, while the sky was cold and the sun was hot and the two lighthouses felt full and complete and satisfied, the ancient one said its goodbyes, and went where it very much enjoyed spending time, there on its own hill, overlooking a vast sea, ready to shine its light, smiling while it did it.