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

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Denial Is A Dissociative Device

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

http://www.kathyvik.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he said, “Stand up.”

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

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

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

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

He smiled and he said, “Watch.”

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

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

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

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

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

Here’s a photo of my winged visitor…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The trouble of the age, huh?

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

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

Not healthy. But very understandable.

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

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

This core concept of free will is no small thing.

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

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

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

It’s time to re-adjust.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Deeply Awake: On Being OK With Being OK With It All By Kathy Vik 6-22-18

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A refreshing summing up.

The sense of legitimacy, of validity, I feel these days is such a relief, like a song breathing me, giving me a release from anxieties, worrying having been a regular form of self-flagellation for me, in the old days.

Now, I am r I report on what it’s like to be at peace with knowing myself as bigger, moment to moment, than had ever been thought possible by me, and by many. Yet, here we all are now, waking up, each in their own way, in their own time, each playing their roles, and each having their own experience.

That was a hard one for me, because I saw a lot of people suffering, as a nurse, as a friend, and when I looked in the mirror, most of my life. An anguish that was eased, sometimes for years, but never left me.

Things changed for me, but it became more and more obvious that I had never been unworthy of any of this new spiritual bounty. I have amnesia, and that is all.

AMnesia.

Well, it’s a tough nut to crack, but eventually, truths are revealed. This can happen to those who pursue QHHT and other reliable and healing forms of hypnosis which yield results which are soul- deep, not habit-deep. It’s this I am eager to pursue, finally now able to step away from my woes and conflicts and worries, finally seeing things more clearly, more magically, more wholly, but in stepping aside, I can help so many more, one-to-one, and I just can’t wait!

I include mention of a video published by Alba Weinman that I found particularly helpful, and healing. I am so very grateful for those who are doing this work, and of course, to someone very beloved to me, Delores Cannon. She has helped me from the beginning. It isn’t surprising, and it’s very smile-invoking, to know she is actively with us now.

Enjoy this celebration. My story and this session both serve as bridges between linearity and multidimensionality. What we are doing publically, so very many more are doing quietly. We are each changing. Be kind to yourself. You are so vast, and have simply forgotten. It’s just amnesia, and it’s burning off, with every video, with every experience that moves you up and out of fear.

Thanks for being here with me today. Namaste.

 

 

 

 

 

As referenced:

Deeply Awake: Meditations On Metamorphosis By Kathy Vik 6-18-18

 

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Deeply Awake: Meditations On Metamorphosis By Kathy Vik 6-18-18

www.kathyvik.com

www.lightworkers.org/magartha

www.deeplyawake.tumblr.com

I am writing to you today with a grin on my face, feeling freer and more on purpose than I am used to, to be honest.

We have construction going on in our building, so video capturing these thoughts isn’t possible, and it is perfection itself. There is a symphony playing within me, rather than a faint air of tinkling notes from a distant, unknowable place. To be able to capture this music with my fingertips this morning, rather than my speech fills me with happiness. This complex, beautiful, uplifting song is what I want to share, what was once a faint few notes, disembodied, and life itself.

That’s how I used to describe it, you know. At the beginning? And these faint stirrings in the summer of 2011 led to revelations and light shows by January of ’12. But at first? It was a hint of faint music, from a distant place. It affected my mood and gave me a knowledge of hope and magic, but it left unpredictably, came upon me spontaneously, and was just enough to make me feel better, to make me sit up straight and smile for once.

That’s how it felt. I would feel this lift, a familiar but faintly supernatural one, and it was only just that, at the beginning. When I use that verbiage, I am referring to an extraordinary time in my life, completely unexpected, but weirdly familiar, like I said.

It was the same magical feel I had when The Teachers were with me, when I was gaining counsel from a channeled group way back when, in the early ’90’s. During their time with me, I was like this, like I am now, mobile in my consciousness, aware of much, and playing with it, though still prone to letting it get me down, sometimes way too much.

I have had to learn how to deal with grievance, and so, in reviewing my last offering, I realized that, although completely valid, necessary and beautiful, the tone of it, the feel of it, was one of grievance, and I wasn’t very fond of that signature. What’s that about? I wondered. What’s going on here?

And so, it came to pass that many miracles have occurred in my life, and I understand now what I did not, then. Oh, how many times have I written that sentence, phrased that sentiment in words never varying far from the core note, “I am changed.”

This morning, as all morning, I received lovely gifts of thought, ways in which to house memory and intention, solutions to problems I have never considered, and answers to questions I had only begun to language.

So it goes, for me, these days.

Today I was shown the chromosomes, and was given puzzles about male and female. It was explained that the variant is male, the element added is the Y chromosome, the prototype is the X. They explained, in pictures and thoughts, how specialized and necessary and vital the roles are, the happily taken on tasks of spirit incarnate. It was a lovely exploration into realms I simply had not considered before and the exercise softened me toward everyone and everything, as the exercises are, I suspect, designed to do, while instructing my open and complex heart-mind.

What it all led to, though, was the butterfly, the caterpillar, the cocoon phase, and just how badass that creature is.

I think it’s daft to see a butterfly as anything but a hard-core spiritual warrior, a talisman for many, a totem, a symbol of Self. Oh! If human beings were that willing and able to obey the instruction set their bodies course with, to be so at peace with mystery, with disintegration, with surrender!

I have lately been aware that I am now quite different than I was, even a year ago. Something has shifted these last few weeks. I have, most assuredly, done the most profound and deep inner, meditative work of my life, during this time. I have changed my magnetics, my trajectory, and my history. This morning, with movies of caterpillars, cocoons and butterflies playing in my brain, making coffee, scratching, yawning, I considered them as welcome guest and resident counselor, and learned from them. To understand it, I personalized it.

You do get that Deeply Awake is just that, right? It’s the personalization, the unique interpretation of source energy through these fingertips, these pupils, these feet, this heart. It’s always been about translating this cosmic force into daily life, living it, being it, knowing it as self, and self as source. What other goal can there be, after all? But it’s exactly why it’s been risky, and weird, and fun, and at times kind of scary for me. Just putting out there my thoughts on all this, not as a leader or an authority, but just as an organic part of life in America in 2018, a woman equipped with a story, a mission (so to speak), and the interwebs.

I thought on my 2 million words, my volumes upon volumes of raw work, beautiful, transformative, transportive, educational, often hilarious, sometimes scary, always surprising. What a treasure! But what I was aware of during those butterfly moments is that the work is already done. I already did it.

I am done with one thing, and I am something else now, because of what I did.

I saw then that this past time, this time of constricted affect, fear-based and shame-based responses and expectations, of living up to expectations, when the game is rigged, and I am perpetually on the losing end? Yeah, those days are done.

I got it, in one day, how it is no longer acceptable or desired for me to pathologize my affect or behavior. What was once mild autism has given way to self-acceptance so fulminant that what I am discovering is that people actually understand me to be wiser than they, more deep and true a person than they have encountered, and a long-lost friend, often times.

I could understand, then, what I had been shown the day before, how I seemed to go through an opening up, a shedding of shame and fear, of sexual pain and torture, within these recent years.

Part of this most recent training involved healing from women and with men working shamanically. Through our practices, I came to understand about the Other, and my Self, and I was finally somehow able to be aware of what I had been able to contain, for so very long. In groups, in company, in love, I then lovingly and powerfully released these realities with a burst of love and joy and abandon and spiritual bliss. I came to understand God, myself, other people, sexuality, spirituality and shamanism in ways that put me back together.

Oh yes, it was deep and profoundly spiritual work, and we did it consciously knowing we were indeed offering release for all fellow enslaved and imprisoned sisters and brothers. What you do for self, you do for the collective, either for ill, or for good.

It’s been wholly alchemical work.

But I had yet to define just WHO was doing this work. I was led from task to task, from situation and person to situation and person, often stunned to find myself in so unusual, colorful, and comfortable a place, be it an orgy or an art exhibit, a burlesque show or a class on trach care in infants, but always in this state of indefinition, of exploration, of not-quite-there-yet-but-getting-ever-closer-don’t-give-up.

51 years of difficulty, by design, by agreement and request, let’s never forget that!

6 years of breaking through, breaking open, shutting down, of terminations, new beginnings, calculated risks and knowing smiles.

And now, here I am.

I came from all of that. Yep, that was me. I have the photos and the t-shirts to prove it. I have the essays and videos explaining it all, from my cocoon, from my altered state.

And now, there are three small days until the solstice. I am a Terran. A Gaian. An Earthling. I find the way my soul marks time is with celestial events, so I pay attention to the ones that I am made aware of. This solstice marks much, for me.

Summer solstice of 2014, my god, I had never been so happy, in my whole life. Those were golden days, that spring, those years.

Four years have passed. I have seen my consciousness twist and turn. I have finally encountered the blackness within me. I had my Armageddon. I had my crucifixions. I’ve had my zero-point moments. And here I am, shiny and comfortable and enthusiastic. I am still very much alive. What conclusions can be drawn?  That our terminology is out-dated, and the labels unnecessary and costly.

If you want to put a fine point on it, I think spiritual bad-ass will do nicely.

I had many intense years, and from them I come away in peace, singing a newly found, ancient song, finally a lilt in my step that I have previously found so elusive that before, when this feeling came upon me, I set out to describe it in words, in explanations, what it is like, what I am thinking, feeling, expecting, knowing, because it is WAY different, and WAY better than normal. I never completed that task. I let this jeweled reality be a potential one, one I slip into overnight and never stop wearing, one fine day.

And, here I am, in one of those times again. Things are finally sweetening, lightening up, easing. The last week or so. Finally.

And this time, I know it can be and will be and is sustained. It is not lightning in a bottle as much as the general weather. It is not so much miracle as matrix of reality, now, this sweetening, this lightening up.

I had some big stuff to get through, just for me, always only for me, and I did much of it without explanation or roadmap for others. What I am doing is archetypal, revolutionary, and wholly personal. This is the inner work, the tomb of tombs work, the high alchemy we each come to do, to master, to walk away from.

And that’s the point.

To walk on.

I like how my world is so big now, and how much I am happy and comfortable with. I find that the things I hold in contempt make me look small and bent and hurt. I know that. But I also know that in a social matrix, it was important to break some barriers, to state some things, to clear for a consciousness things that have been all jammed up in their throat chakras, unable to be released. The will was there. Oh yes. But not the ability. It takes time and effort to master new tools, new equipment.

I am reminded of when I was led through the opening of the chakra systems. It was highly unpleasant and physically so. It was a physicalized soul pain, that’s the best way to describe it. It is only now that it has come into focus what I did. I’ll explain a bit, and then I want to conclude with what I understood from the butterfly thing.

The night they led me to this, I had been channeling, working, doing mirror gazing, writing, it was full-on. This night, they led me back to what they had explained when I had been trained, in the ’90’s. They expanded it and it finally all made more sense. I’ll explain it to you now, briefly.

For this discussion, PLEASE know assignation of gender is ENERGETIC, not biologic! I know women who are far more male, and males far more female, and many who are both!

They told me that each age is set with magnetic “locks” or set-ups in consciousness. It was done with the 7 chakra wheel system, which is itself a false one, a closed one, so not entirely useful for more than compulsory exploration.

Each age have males in one magnetic position, females in another. This is how “experiments in consciousness” are done. They’d explained, way back when, that the agreement this go around is that men would have their crowns and pineal turned down, with their root and sacral areas taking the excess energy, and in females, their throats were turned down, thus inflaming the solar plexus, and growing the heart. Mute.

This was the set up.

That night in April of 2016, on camera (Since destroyed… it was too raw and hard for me to watch, so I got rid of it) in channel, they explained it first, and then they led me, as a male, chakra by chakra, in the last experiment’s magnetics. It was so uncomfortable. The whole exercise was.

Then they led me through each chakra as male, at 100%. It felt so much better!

Then they did that with me, as female. Constricted, it was so uncomfortable, so much pain, oh my. And then, with each of my seven, they opened all to 100%

They then proclaimed that this is how it now is, for all, as they wish. Then they explained to me that I would use the local sauna with its crystal-encrusted walls and endless showers as a temple of sorts, to anchor this and spread the word, if the crystal kingdom chose to give consent.

I remember going to sleep that night worried that the crystal kingdom might say no. They explained to me about just how royal and impeccable those beings are, and I already have a natural deferential respect for them, so, it was a worry of mine. In the morning, I asked questions, and found out that part of this process had been to come to peace with what I was doing, to give it some thought, and be at peace with what it really means.

Honestly, some of this stuff is of an importance and magnitude that, if thought real, is pretty impressive, and really sweet to have done. What a nice gift, you know?

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Just how real is any of it, right?

Well, I was presented to the crystal kingdom, I paid my respects and honor to them, and they accepted the message and it was done. This is what They have done with me whenever there has been a big enough change in consciousness, or a big enough release, that it is appropriate to then make it available to all in a more amplified way.

I was led to think on Kryon’s opening of nulls and nodes.

There is some work that is done so intuitively, and is actually part of the Earth’s design, that we just do as we know we can and must, because we are being asked to, and we know how to do it. So it goes with gatekeepers, gridworkers, and all spiritual or energetic warriors.

I use that word to denote our skill, not our desire to war. That is not something we have as standard equipment. Devoid as we are of a desire for it, it is very much standard equipment, this innate skill in battle we each possess, whether we want it or not.

With a lot of this more revolutionary stuff, what I have deduced is that, as a human being, it is my right and responsibility to answer the stirrings of my soul, wherever it takes me. In 2012, that meant writing about it. In 2016, it meant coming to the camera.

Can you imagine the flood of relief, the gratitude for company as this informational tsunami hit me in 2012,  this flood of familiar-new energy I saw populating the internet, generating a discussion I’d longed to be part of?

For a lifetime, it had been my walk to live as I had finally deduced would be wise and safe: in girlhood I knew, and in my thirties I doubled-down on living my spiritual life privately. It was pondered silently, written about rarely, and almost never talked about.

It was a black-out kind of thing, and for two decades, I held The Teachers’ information close to the vest. It was a  part of me, the knowledge, but cordoned off, irrelevant to goings-on. When I did risk sharing, through those years, it always led to a feeling of profound aloneness and disconnection. It/I made people feel uncomfortable, when I did risk it all and brought it out.

And then, in 2012, everything sort of came on-line. More was possible. I felt better more often, though it was still mighty bleak at times.

Getting back, to the chakra systems… (I am sooo enjoying writing to you today! I’m finding it hard to stop!)

I have reviewed what the expectations They had for how behavior in the genders would begin to change, and how puzzling it would all seem, at first, until people are more hooked up with their individual hearts and souls.

They said the result of being at 100%, all chakras, would be that Man would begin thinking “Woman, I hate you, and yet, I cannot help but feel stirrings of true tenderness for you. What is this? What is this?” And, poor confused Man would be confronted with the dragon it created, while under.

Because Woman would begin to air grievances, their throats now cleared of impediment.

They said it could get quite hard and heated and heart-breaking, because it would be an on-onslaught of pent-up grievances, heard by counterparts who can now actually feel the impact of it all in a far more vibrant, and responsible way. But they won’t be cut a lot of slack, even when it would be in everyone’s best interest to ease up a little. It would take time to balance it.

That was April of 2016. Pre-Weinstein. Pre #metoo. Crazy-weird, huh?

Anyhow. Butterflies.

There is a lightening going on, an easing up and off, and maybe that means it really is the time of moving past grievance. I have a lot of friends who do not trifle with things such as the dark. They are too busy doing the stuff I want to do, know how to do, now, and am able to do, finally.

I realized that this was, in essence, the lesson, and maybe it really can be seen in so simple of terms that there was a time when I had a consciousness that was like a TV, broadcasting for decades in black and white.

The set itself had to change into one that could not only see in color, but which could handle not 5 stations, but an infinite amount of data, or programming, for want of a better subtexted word.

I think that for me, maybe my black and white days ended during those ramping-up days in the spring and summer of 2011, culminating in the first of a seemingly never-ending series of light events. That first one was so eye-popping, so life-altering, so freeing. It was supernatural, and life-changing, that weird, cold, clear day back in January of 2012.

Maybe then I had to go through a change in my receiver, an opening it up, a deepening and broadening of my receiving band, so that I could receive whatever my heart desired.

And now, I can manage great rivers of consciousness, I can be in many places at once, I can throw my consciousness, I can feel into things with more heart, but, far more, I am at peace. I am finally at peace and happy.

I used to be really fat, and I consumed a lot, and I had my eyes down, and I really couldn’t, I just couldn’t really give two craps about anything lofty or exalted, not really, not after The Teachers left, in 1994.

And then, just like a bad ass caterpillar, something happens, a gong goes off inside, and I suddenly have something I gotta do.

For me, that was 2012, and that was writing. That was Deeply Awake. I HAD TO capture what I was suddenly aware of, and having adeptness, stunned familiarity and skill, with.

And now?

I produced roughly 2 million words. I gave it everything I had, each and every time I came to you. I declared this a safe place to say anything that had to be said, because it was pretty, because it was interesting, because it made sense to me, even though the rest of creation turned away from this sudden blaze of love, light, laughter, I suddenly became in 2012.

I have had time to mellow that. To understand that just because I love like that doesn’t mean anybody else does, and I have come to some sort of peace with being human, and being among those who are as afraid as I once was, and still sometimes feel. Sometimes still, I am once again suddenly thinking and feeling things that feel constricted and tight and bendy and hard to justify. I snap out of it easily now, what used to take months or weeks to be delivered from.

You have seen a very loving person trying to figure out how to love everyone, wisely and openly and with great mirth and a sense of inner safety that is unshakable. I don’t think that’s anything more than just growing up as a spiritual being, really. I think we dress this stuff up and call it fancy things like ascension and all that other stuff just because we feel it is so unattainable, peace and some sort of flow.

I didn’t catch a ton of breaks, made worse by my beloved habit of erring on the side of my lack of self-worth.  I had a whole a boatload of problems or life-situations to work through and explain to myself, mostly revolving around power and love, will and love.

It was interesting, lots of tensions and contrasts, and then, a six year period of dissolving, of reforming, of discovery, and full stops. Waves of people, waves of events, me riding whatever wave wanted to come by.

It’s now that I realize I am the sea, and I have the ability to be calm, and to keep it so. I like that.

And so, as stories end, as the conclusions are braided into the ever-continuing saga of spiritual, divine, cosmic life, I leave you with a picture, with a moment, that you may reflect upon at leisure. Knowing myself as ocean, as sea, as cosmic mother, as one source of The Source, I leave you with a story. I leave you gently, sweetly, and in deep devotion to the beautiful light you are.

It is sunrise. 

Just above an infinite expanse of a glossy living mirror, an ocean, along flutters a colorful floating creature, bobbing up and down in the silent, still, reverent air.

A butterfly.

How?

Why?

We let it be, knowing of a miracle. We two now know of this tableau bursting with violet and crimson and white and canary yellow and iridescent pink.

Below is an endless expanse of teeming life within the water, the water itself a being, a host, a cosmic dancer.

And above it all, popping, floating, beating its wings, obedient to its innate knowledge of lands beyond its imagination, here, for our delight, flies a vividly blue butterfly.

This being is regal, purposeful, perfect, delightful.

This quiet moment is now yours, and yet, here the beauty will remain. It is here it will unfurl into awareness for its brave and tender visitors, forever floating there, and glittering here, on the web.

My gift to you, The Beloved.

Blessings be.

 

 

And, just for fun…

 

 

“Immigrant Song”

Ah, ah.

We come from the land of the ice and snow,
From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow.

Hammer of the gods will drive our ships to new land.
To fight the hordes and sing, and cry.
Valhalla, I am coming.

Always sweep with, with threshing oar.
Our only goal will be the western shore.

Ah, ah.

We come from the land of the ice and snow,
From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow.

How soft your fields so green. Can whisper tales of gore.
Of how we calmed the tides of war. We are your overlords.

Always sweep with threshing oar,
Our only goal will be the western shore.

So now you’d better stop and rebuild all your ruins.
For peace and trust can win the day despite of all your losing.

Ooh. Ooh. Ooh. Ooh. Ooh
Ooh. Ah.

Deeply Awake: Current Events, Integrative Interpretations,, And Light Activations By Kathy Vik 6-16-18

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Ballsy. Funny. Deep. Thought-provoking. Healing.

All good descriptors for what lies within, a meditation on current events, which recently were marveled at by some pundit I caught on a news show, stupified while saying, “This really is about good and evil,” when discussing the current political landscape.

I speak as a metaphysician, a futurist, an ascensionist, an historian, a believer in humankind’s ability to rouse themselves from the spell they’re/we’re/you’re under (to what degree, is for you to decide.)

The premise revolves around there being a shift in consciousness, from one that is warring to one that is not. It is a lively discussion, which leads to a discussion of many unusual and abundantly magical things.

The last half of the video discusses hard-core weirdness, activations and thoughts on many topics the futurist, or fellow star-person, in the crowd will get a kick out of.

I hope you enjoy my latest round-up of all things 3-d and much, much higher. I do mention the 8-based chakra system, and various visitations in this one, toward the end, and the way it is summarized I found very helpful, and I’m the one living it, so I hope you, too, get some answers as you let the tape roll, and let me take you new places, places I know well.

 

 

 

 

Deeply Awake: Thoughts On “What Do You Want? You May Have It.” By Kathy Vik 6-4-18

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A beautiful, heartfelt and light talk about the end of a process.

This morning, I was given a picture in my head, upon awakening, and from this comes a helpful and enjoyable discussion on the nature of will, desire, and inner completion.

 

 

 

 

 

Deeply Awake: “God Indwells Me And Is Well Pleased” By Kathy Vik

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My newest video discusses my most beautiful visitations, visions, thoughts and understandings, realized during a heightened time of integration and inner peace.

My intention, and my hope, is that this is able to walk alongside you for a little while, speaking such happy thoughts, each thought-group ringing with that tone of truth, my truth, which rings with freedom and joy.