Deeply Awake Chat & CHANNEL 2017: Truth Unveiled At The End Of An Age By Kathy Vik 8-18-17

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I urge you to watch this clip prior to watching my video It is LOADED with triggers, it is more accurate than not, though a poetic dramatization of what is being experienced by some, and what some have already come through, and what we all will have access to more easily post-eclipse.

Note the title of this clip, that she begins the experience by looking at the sun, that she is suspended above the earth as this transition occurs, and then, please note, the story most definitely goes on from there. Let not the fear of death overtake.

She lives out a story, and of course it is a violent and aggressive tale for the movie goers, but the idea behind it is that of CONTINUITY. This is a highly keyed movie, and a highly triggering one for those in the first wave.

 

 

If ever there were a period of my life when applying the fine art of The Suspension Of Disbelief were required, it is NOW.

What follows is beyond my belief. I don’t know how else to put it. Let me explain.

There have been a number of significant and ponderously “real” situations which have emerged, many revelations given, much connected, and much understood, accepted and adopted, the last 24 hours.

Being in the sun helped immensely, and I want to stress to everyone the healing, restorative and necessary influence of the sun, how important it is to remove glass from skin, open car windows, take walks, whatever needs to happen, to get that light on the skin. It is fundamental now. It is CORE.

This video is a time capsule, I know this, because the information within is freaking explosive, and is not for this consciousness, not yet, anyway.

Am I building my hopes up too high for this eclipse?

Watch this and then decide. Invest the time, and then, tell me what you think, if this eclipse event contains within it potency and relief we simply are too fatigued to be able to imagine.

Get a snack, curl up, unplug, suspend your ever arguing companions of belief and disbelief… tell it to go lie down for an hour. Drink it in, absorb it, think on it, and then reject it as bullshit, or let it start working on you.

One way or the other, this video will change you in ways you currently cannot suspect.The channel begins at 16:45. The whole video contains light anomoly.

Watch in good health, peace, and unity, through the grandest connector of all: LOVE.

 

 

As referenced, below is the link, and the text, of my first formal essay, months from adopting the moniker “Deeply Awake,” and thus formalizing the expression. The opening shot across the bow, prior to my moment of growth, discussed within this work, (a month and 2 days to follow) it stands as the true core of my life conundrum, and the thing that nearly drove me mad, reconciling this energy.

Yesterday as I drove, I came to terms with quite a lot, in regards to this turn of events. I felt the anguis, the disappointment, the resignation, the contempt, the forgiveness, all simultaneously, and I felt a release from within it, outward.

Consider it one of the crosses I “bore,” which turned into a living, breathing tree of life during this transformation some have stood witness for, and many others will acquaint themselves to, later.

I wrote it after having experienced my first true “hit of light,” and describe a little bit about its after effects. The message of that first healing was about the validity of love, and that enemies are intimates of a much higher degree than simple love bonds contain.

I hope you enjoy this. It’s fun looking back, as we step over this threshold, as long, I think, as I do it with love, gratitude, indulgence, understanding, compassion and pride.

https://lightworkers.org/page/155476/judas-energy

Judas Energy

by magartha

March 23, 2012

These are preliminary thoughts only.
As a youth, I was enthralled with the story of Jesus’ life and teachings, his death and his resurrection.
I studied traditional and non-traditional information about Jesus and his times. And then I saw a brand new movie,… our church youth group went to opening night at the Cooper Theatre in Denver, a cheekily titled movie called “Jesus Christ Superstar”.
That night I finally felt whole, curious that until then, I hadn’t realized something more was possible.
I recaptured the sense of having heard the word of God captured by Rice and Allen by listening to that soundtrack so often, I finally had to ask for a replacement… I’d worn out the first record.
I spent hours, hours and hours, listening to that soundtrack as I roller skated in the circle I skated in our garage. I came to know there was more to Jesus’ story than I could ever grasp, but contentedly rolled through those circles in deep joy and meditation, lucky to be bathing in this reality, feeling privileged to be given instruction in a less biased, more balanced way.
But I knew there was far more to the story than was readily available. His words, his life, and all the stories written since, resonated at such a high frequency. I craved it. i obeyed it. I longed for more, but was content in having more than before.
As a child and then on into adulthood, I knew I had an affinity for Pontius Pilate. He was someone I could understand. I thought his energy was “cleaner” than Judas’, that his choices, missteps and misunderstanding of the situation were so understandable in context, even benevolent. Misguided benevolence. Oh how much trouble we have created for ourselves through the use of misguided benevolence. I knew his presence gave the story its structure, it’s historical framework. He was a function of the political/consciousness agreement field of their day. Nothing more. A device. By “clean”, I mean I see him as a necessary framework giving the story the structure it needed for the unfolding of the tale.
Pontius was the syntax. The apostles were the words. Jesus was the scribe. God was the author.
What then was Judas?
After many of these recent abundant clearings and recalibirations, my guides treated me with something last night. I was finally given access to the soundtrack of Jesus Christ Superstar. And as I listened to it last night, I was able to sail on Angel’s wings and touch the face of God, amazed at all the glittering facets of this incredible gift given to us by God through His Identity Sananda.
And I wept the most, was the most touched, by Judas.
It was then I understood that Pontius Pilate’s role was one of logistics, a gate only, a neutral function of the temporal reality.
And now, finally, it was Judas who I came to recognize as me.
I have always known I was present during those years. I have always had every confidence that I had been involved.
Maybe I wasn’t Judas. Who cares? At this point I really don’t. Judas was a ROLE only. In this dense fog of duality, he played his part expertly.
But to have betrayed our Beloved? With a kiss?
How does the incarnaion of Judas reconcile these acts, and their consequences, without judgement or shame, but instead with the all-encompassing Love Which Is God? How do I manage bringing the ugliest parts of my Selves back into alliance, allegiance, and unity?
Through forgiveness.
To forgive is to be touched from above and within all at once. When done well, this tone, this essence, transmutes, fundamentally ALTERS the past, present and future (as we have always perceived it).
The act of sincere and deep forgiveness is to be in-spired by God. YOU become the Violet Flame when you actively and selflessly forgive. The person you are setting free is your Self.
It’s easier, more accessible, to forgive others their wrongs towards me. I enjoy it, as it brings a release I cannot explain but know transforms.
Ah! But to have known those rare moments where I have been literally knocked to my knees with forgiveness for my Self?
That is bliss. That pierces the veil. In those holy moment, I could do nothing more than stagger, caught up in a rapture in which I yearn to spend the remainder of my days. To forgive MY SELF is the most Divine Act I have done as a human 3D entity. Through that doorway came the Eye of God, looking deeply within me, and telling me, murmuring to me, declaring as already DONE: God Indwells Me And Is Well Pleased.
I stood up after falling in divine grace before this Eye of God and I went to my mirror. I saw this Eye of God. And that Eye of God was in MY EYE.
I have never been the same. Everything has changed because of that moment of grace. That grace washed me clean. Now it’s just clean up and preparation. It is finished, just as Jesus said. I knelt before God, I was forgiven, and realized there is absolutely no higher truth than forgiveness of Self. To have been touched by this divine love…
There really are no words.
But there are so many translations.
So if I played that role in Judea, high-five. I did it well. It is done. It was a chronicle preparing us for this moment, the first day of the new moon of March, 2012.
And this bliss, this state of suspended and never ending grace is in everyone. EVERYONE. EVERYONE. The potential to touch this reality in is EVERYONE, and we are only just awakening to it. It was always there. It sustained us through the pain and suffering, the acting out and misbehaving, the emanations and consequences of disordered thought, disordered being.
God puts everything right.
God sees everything as right.
God is the most high, and this word we use to express this essence is just a slip of paper compared the the mighty tree of its reality.
And in that moment of transfixation, of transfiguration, I understood in my heart of hearts that THIS love is IN ME. It IS me, and I a vibration, a manifestation, a color of It.
And, so it followed, if this God is actually me, then it is in everyone on this planet.
It is in your neighbor playing his music too late at night. It is within the bad news you receive and the good news you receive. The flotsam and jetsam of earthly life is washed clean by forgiveness.
I wish to live in a steady state of gentleness to self and others, a state of grace led by the highest love I have ever encountered, staring right into me as I clutched my carpet and folded into the ever cycling love of God, always fresh, always new, always adoring, always benevolent, always wise, always present.
All Hail the New Earth, where we will and are walking in humble respect of ourselves and our co-creators.
Blessings from Magartha.
Seylah.

 

 

Deeply Awake Chats 2017: Bisexuality Revisited By Kathy Vik 7-15-17

 

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The second video I released was a frank and honest talk about bisexuality, and the esoteric, spiritual, soulic and energetic underpinnings of sexuality, and sexual dissonance, and resonance.

This is confessional, in that I am open about my thoughts on many things, all based or seen as soulic, or spiritual. I have never been able to separate the two, my sexuality and my spirituality, and this unique perspective can stand as further help for many who are confused with labels, roles, gender and even relationships.

I am aware many are not as open and honest as I am, but I think it is helpful, in that, I have been a keen observer and participant in the psychosexual changes this interesting time in humanity has produced. Transgendered, cisgenerdered, and non-binary sexuality is now being acknowledged and described en masse by youth especially. They see it as brand new. Older ones see this as a relief.

I think this video adds an important and helpful perspective to this and other issues related to sexual and spiritual understanding and expression at this time in history.

 

 

 

 

Deeply Awake Chats 2017: Energetic Management And Dark Entities By Kathy Vik 5-12-17

 

 

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First, Shine…

 

 

 

 

It ends at 42:14 btw.

A frank and surprising talk that gives lots of weird and wild true life examples about managing your energetic field, how to handle encounters with dark entities, the reality and scope of this dark energy, and its key signature, that of contempt for humanity. A really fun and personal talk which informs, instructs and entertains!

Please know, this is a RISKY video, it talks about the Illuminati and all that jazz, and brings it into real-life terms, and then explains the easiest way to disengage from the agreement field, to just be aware of our own contempt levels.

But, please be advised, it gets slidy, in that it talks about the dark shadowy stuff of conspiracies and geo-politics. Sure to hit the spot, if you’re into that kind of thing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For reference:

 

British Dictionary definitions for contemptExpand

contempt

/kənˈtɛmpt/
noun

1.

the attitude or feeling of a person towards a person or thing that he considers worthless or despicable; scorn
2.

the state of being scorned; disgrace (esp in the phrase hold in contempt)
3.

wilful disregard of or disrespect for the authority of a court of law or legislative body: contempt of court
Word Origin
C14: from Latin contemptus a despising, from contemnere to contemn

Deeply Awake Chats 2017: Validity By Kathy Vik 2-15-17

Image result for poisoned apple tree

 

 

A seeringly honest and beautiful discussion about what has happened within and without, since the lunar eclipse. The finality of these endings and shifts in awareness, identity and context are intense, deep and thorough. I give my love to those consciously riding these waves with me.

Please accept this correction: It was at age 22 I went off to nursing school, not 22 years ago. I began my training in 1983, in my 22nd year of life. I hope that helps to clarify this most illuminating discussion.

 

ar•ti•fi•cial

(ˌɑr təˈfɪʃ əl)

adj.

1. made by human skill; produced by humans; not natural.
2. imitation; simulated; sham: artificial vanilla flavoring; artificial gemstones.
3. lacking naturalness or spontaneity; forced: an artificial smile.
4. full of affectation; stilted.
5. pertaining to a taxonomic classification that groups together unrelated organisms.
[1350–1400; Middle English < Latin]

 

 

 

 

Deeply Awake Essay: Thoughts on Sovereignty By Kathy Vik 11-25-16

Image result for crown on a head

 

A very beautiful early morning talk weaving two concepts together: further thoughts on a recent meditation about boats, and then thoughts on this being the time for a change from empathy to compassion, and what that means to an energetic creature like me.

 

 

 

As referenced, a brand new work I found great ideas in…

http://www.lovehaswon.org/ascension-spirituality/message-for-the-1st-wave-ascension-crew-the-centrifuge

 

And as referenced, my meditation from Jesus about running energy:

DEEPLY AWAKE: “Completion” By Kathy Vik 6-18-16

DEEPLY AWAKE: “Completion” By Kathy Vik 6-18-16

www.kathyvik.com

www.lightworkers.org/magartha

www.deeplyawake.tumblr.com

www.twitter.com/amissvik

www.youtube.com/amissvik

I find it lyrical that I am coming to you on the morning after an anniversary. Two months ago yesterday, I began my videotaping. I understood early on that if I had not gone that route, this process could have taken months and months. And after spending so long on this project already, I was unwilling to drag this out. There were many other reasons, sure, but I think it was a timing thing, to be honest. I am now ready for Solstice 2016. I am ready. And I had not been.

Anyhow, I don’t dream anymore, not like I used to, and I had given up on sleep yielding me anything but an occasional vision. My last one was December 1 of 2015. It was a good one, but one I can now put aside as an extra blanket they’d tossed on me through the night, to quiet fitfulness, to still a burning soul.

This, last night, this was different.

I will videotape this, but it needs to be said in writing. Some things just have to be done this way.

I have been understanding through the night something which must now be articulated, if only for me, but for all time, my friend, for all time.

I have come to understand something which I know to be true, and for me this is irrefutable knowledge. So much of this work is like that, and it requires, then, can’t you see? a plasticity of belief, a willingness to never fully identify my self as my ideas, but instead to see them merely as structures which, over time, can so perfectly and happily and appropriately fall. So many have, I this lifetime.

I understood this:

This “lower agreement field,” this physical reality as I know it, this land of give and take, right and wrong, good and bad, love and hate, yes and no, this land requires something of each of its travelers. Something that, if not given prior to entering, and then maintained throughout, makes the reality an illusion, and a game.

I must accept as true that I am lacking something, in order to play the game.

I have to relinquish a knowing, and adopt a belief, really. That everyone around me also holds the belief, well, golly, that helps make it “real,” and it lets the game go on, and it makes it so very tricky to walk away from.

I must accept a simple article of faith: I am incomplete. I lack. I need. I have not.

I then must go looking for it. Outside. I must, I think, simply because the supposition is a false one, one that implants a survival need, really, because it is an untruth. I come to believe that I am lacking.

It is untrue. It is, dear friend, a lie we each must have to swallow whole, and adopt as truth, to play in this garden with each other, in any of the standard roles we adopt in a lifetime, from this drop down menu we call “life today.”

I have to believe that my good lies elsewhere and not inside me. My peace. My worth. My meaning.

And this doesn’t mean it’s in one person, though god knows I have laid that trip on myself, and on others, for decades. It’s not a person, always, though. It could be an attribute I feel I am lacking. That of patience, how about. And so, presented to me are not all the reasons and ways in which I may know patience, no. Not at first. Not simply up front and obvious.

At least, not right away.

What I am knowing myself to be an impatient one, I am often presented with situations which then REQUIRE patience from within me, simply because I have adopted a belief that I have none, and can then be led to the truth of it. Finally exhausted from privation, from assault, from having to wait anyway, I discover, I am patient.

And, oh, sure, just for fun, let’s try on the love thing, shall we?

If I know myself to be without love, if I know myself to be alone, then, I will certainly consider the quest for it outside myself as a valid and heroic quest. I am going “out there” to “find love.” Completion. Wholeness. Intactness. A sense of being justified and real and purposeful. And I will be joined, in this quest, by legions of others, also in full belief of their incompletion.

I have heaped so much onto this one little rickety cart, I can see that now.

And so, what might a world look like, when I have convinced myself that within I am not complete, I am not enough, I am without something I actually need, quite literally, for my full-on, best experience creaturehood adventure, but so often, something else… my survival. Sometimes, it has even felt, to me, like a kind of soul survival, not simply the desire to have a good time, or to experience simple, shared creaturehood.

I will, undoubtedly encounter those whose willingness to withhold this completion, simply because it is not energetically theirs to give me. “They” are withholding nothing. They have empty hands, and often they have clamped down hearts simply because, now, my reality is not playing around with me. It’s completion time. It is time to GET this.

Many failed relationships, and a failed marriage should actually have served as proof to me that I was looking in the wrong direction, but the love of flesh and connection and physical celebration is so strong in me, I find so much healing and goodness in it, that I just couldn’t going without it as a sane alternative to that juicy, delicious, confounding Other, the one who entices and then takes away, the one who seduces and then laughs at me for having taken the seduction seriously.

I have mocking lovers. I have withholding lovers. I have distant lovers. And now I know why.

They are doing me a favor. They are showing me a fundamental law of physics, and rather than thanking them, I have been cursing and belittling them in my mind and in my heart, angry at their withholding, thinking it an affront to one so loving.

And, to be true, this reality has been like that for a while, though riding along with it now is something else, something real, something more.

I don’t really have to take up this burden again this morning, though. I don’t have to associate with those whose actions speak of distaste or discomfort or disinterest. I can instead allow it all to respectfully die, simply by not attending to it, to this idea that something I need or want or lack is elsewhere. I can see it for what it is. A falsehood. A story I told myself. I do not lack, within. Not anymore.

And it is not because anything was given me, or returned to me overnight, except perhaps, a certain soul sanity.

What I have come to know is that my pain comes from the thinking, the belief, not the people doing as I have asked, energetically. Upon agreement and request, is how interpersonal, and all, physical reality works, after all.

I understand now, however, that I have asked people and my reality to demonstrate to me that which I believe I lack, that which I am looking for, that which I am seeking.

It cannot be “out there” simply because I have tricked myself into knowing, believing, acting as if it is not within me. I have adopted a big lie. I have taken on an original sin, really.

This belief that I have no true soul completion without something, something, someone, something, whatever I have decided, is not within me.

So, with love, I have found no satisfaction. No peace. And, anymore, very little play.

Why?

At one time my garden was bursting with fruits, my calendar heavy with dates, and my body nearly intoxicated with spectacle and communion and touch and joys. This fire went out. Why?

I can see now how differently I felt about life and about myself in those days. They have just recently passed from me, and I had them full on, and they remain close enough to touch, actually. That I have already had it, I know I can have it again, but, how did I do it?

It was fully available, this love, and I knew it to be within me. I knew it to be something I was walking around with, a sense of completion. Competence. Confidence. Fullness. And inner safety, like I had never felt before, truth be told. Excitement, passion, but more, the ability to enjoy it and own it as mine.

It is because I was in a more natural state of flow, actually. I came to see, through miraculous friends who supported my baby steps into this mastery, that I could be met in my wholeness, and I could play with others in that garden, and, I am here to tell you, it is a garden from which I never want to return, and will not, now. I am forever disinterested, now, in the dry and wasted terrain of lack, of withholding, of no. So, I can say to it, never again, because those are the only words it knows to say to me, we can wink at each other as we say our goodbyes. Never again.

Because in this place I have known, this truly unnatural state, embodied through this sainted lifetime I lived until April 17 of this year, in this natural state of blight, I knew myself to be desperately in need. Justifiably suffering in my awareness of being so fundamentally apart. Incomplete. Separate. Lacking. Alone. Disappointed. Left out.

I might as well have believed I was a pirate or a starlet. Impossible, silly things to imagine. Impossible fantasies that could do nothing but warp from their impossible weight, their intrinsic malformations of structure and balance.

Yes, Virginia, I accepted a lie as a truth.

So have the lot of us, but I will forever only speak for myself, what my reality informs me might be true, going forward, what was true all along, what is true for me in this Now moment.

I believed that I was lacking love. I believed I lacked that from which I am made, that which I breathe, and that which I cannot be anything but.

I took on the lie my mom died from, and many suffer from. A sort of mass hypnosis, really. That I have something lacking, inside me, that can only be found on the outside. The truth is that at this point of the reality construction game, it is necessary to see the outside as construct.

If I know myself, my Self, as not complete, I am simply bound to go on a quest, seek out, find, this stuff in another’s eyes, in their story , in their expression. This lie is reinforced so well, daily, by others, by our literature and entertainment, by our fellow travelers, so complete is this belief. And, then, can’t you see how easy it is to be, or potentially be forever in lack, forever certain I am, as the others are, wildly incomplete.

And it is an incompletion which is true, simply because completion t is not theirs to give to me. It is not mine to give to another, that’s for sure, I know this already.

But, truly, completion, love, acceptance and intactness, these are not mine to need. They are mine to cop to. I am in no true lack.

And my reality demonstrated, and has been demonstrating, to me in no uncertain terms, this great sense of incompletion. I have felt frustrated and unmet. I have been locked away and I have been ignored. I have been turned away from and I have been disregarded. The greater the need, the greater the resistance.

And it is because I have tried to get from them that which they cannot give, that which they are not energetically capable of giving. This is not due to their lack of goodness or strength or structural competence, but simply because they did not have it on their shelves. That never stopped me from blasting through them like a hurricane, frantically convinced, though, that it is here, it is here, it is here, in your words, in your actions, in your skin, and within your abilities dammit!

And it was not.

I have resisted coming to this place. I felt it yesterday, and I have felt it, truth be told, most days of my life, but it took this anniversary, and this process, and this night, to illustrate it in a way that made it real to me.

My sense of wholeness is not another’s to give. They don’t have it. They never did.

In relationship, I see soul. I feel soul. I love connecting at that level, and I enjoy it best, but, no, I was not sensing my own homecoming in their eyes. I was sensing their homecoming. Not mine. Theirs.

With connection, with love, real love, that is what I was feeling. Their own sense of inner recognition, their own realization that they called to them this love, me, in all my misunderstanding.

Me standing in front of them naked, convinced I am not offering them my whole self, as they, in their confusion, are convinced that within me holds their wholeness, as we converse, as we make love, as we duke it out.

My misinterpretations led to dissolution of the very happiness we came to know, those who shared my light, my love, my body, my time, this last leg of my, of our, esteemed and courageous journey.

To believe that I lack nothing, though, doesn’t that mean I forever walk alone? Doesn’t that mean that I get to just walk on and on without company, without union, and does it mean I must know only being alone?

I know myself in multiplicity. I know myself as profound communicator and mover of others’ realities. I know myself as connected, after all. And now, knowing this, this truth, that I am and was and will ever be, can be nothing but, complete? Well, I can tell you, it changes the game. And I for one am so excited to do it differently.

This truth is true for all of the things I had thought I lacked though. Abundance. My sense of purpose. My sense of accomplishment. For everything.

If I know this completion, integrity and competence to be within, without imperfection, and fully functional, it has to, it must, change my relationship with my physical reality. It just does.

And it is done this way. It is done by being aware that whatever is in my reality now is not lacking a thing. I am not in lack. Ever.

I tried that on, while waking up, tossing and turning. I thought about being hungry and skinny and discarded, in a prison cell.

Is it true that in that circumstance I am not in lack?

And the answer was a resounding yes. I am not in lack, even then. I felt my soul, then, I could see how it was a part of the incarceration, its walls and its privation perfect for me, in every way perfect. For that expression. For that time. For that reality. For the part of the story of me I found myself in, in thiat, my Now moment.

And perhaps it was a profound sense of lack which brought on the incarceration. . And perhaps it was story line and willingness. And perhaps it was a gift or karma I gave to myself, or to others, but, it was perfect, and I as not in lack. Even then.

And so, what does this mean for me?

What does it mean, how will it translate, and can I live this shit? That is always the question. It’s a fine thought to have on a stunning summer morning, but, does it carry water and, by carrying it, will it slake my thirst for a lifetime, or is this just a thought which moves me just a little further down the pike, a bit more comfortable, a little less worried?

In a funny way, I think all thoughts are like that, helpers, really, since we are evolving creatures, but, I think this one is more than willing to assist me for the rest of my days. It is a truth. I think it is so big as to maybe be a law of sorts.

I lack nothing.

What is contained within me are the multiverses. I have been shown. My body rings with it, and my heart sings with it, and it’s all my mind knows, in my sane moments, which, I can assure you, far outweigh my moments of despair and incongruence, anymore.

And consider the reverse of this. Just for a moment.

Imagine I survey my reality and I decide, looking at it, that it is demonstrating for me my own lack of respect for self. That’s another hard one to pull off, energetically. The truth is I fully respect and love myself, so, if I see my actions toward myself as disrespectful, chances are they could be more respectful. But even so, it is a goddess looking at a situation and misinterpreting it, seeing it as something twisted and mean, when really, it is simply a conversation I am having with myself, and a meaningful one at that.

Maybe the goddess just wanted to snarl into her mirror, to get a good laugh and see what her face looks like all screwed up.

But if I want to try it on and wear it out of the store, this sense disrespect, others will be more than happy to demonstrate great disrespect, gifting their friendly goddess with the opportunity to just come inside myself and find it once again. Wearing it and embodying a knowledge others know disrespect for me, it then reflected to me, by agreement and by request, under its breath, again and again  asking me, are you sure this respect thing isn’t right inside your heart?

Check again.

Is it that simple?

That what I believe I am lacking will come to me in my reality as lack, so that I can see lack as false?

All I know, at this point, is I do not want to look upon anything with my eyes and think I am in lacking. I don’t need a negative feedback loop anymore. It is a bit exhausting, I think. And now, it is unnecessary as well.

I know that physical reality is coded, and I know it is rich, just loaded with the ability to reflect to me anything I wish to realize or know. It can demonstrate to me my own understanding of my worth and completion and fullness, or it can oblige me with an assortment of experiences which lead me to seek, and finally, to come home, come within, and to see that I never was incomplete in the first place.

I know of people who have some of this but not all of it. And it is a masquerade, of sorts, showing everyone they know of completion and worth and intactness. Their outer reality sings with stability and solidity, abundance and belonging. And yet, they too believe most assuredly in their incompletion. They too seek and they too shake their fellow travelers by the shoulders, demanding the impossible. They do it too.

And unless a person, unless I, always back to the I, unless I see that I lack nothing, that I come in and I leave complete and whole, regardless of veil, well then, the game goes on and on, the quest continues, the seeking cannot and will not cease. Unless I decide to stop. Unless I let my guidance inform me. Unless I relax and let my Self lead me home.

I think of my kid, and others like him, who seem to be able to be truly content in the middle of circumstances which I do not like and which cause me much pain and suffering. And it’s not simply the rosy glow that is them being just being naive, immature or untried kids. It is something deeper, something I like being around, and something that is stronger, more sturdy than even my heretofore ironclad belief in my lack, my incompletion, my need for things to be better than they are now.

They know they are ok. They just know it. Deep within. It shines from their eyes and it shows, in their behavior, in what they are content with, in how they plan their lives, and what they believe someone outside themselves is capable of.

And what this all means to me is that I can today rise from this bed in the knowledge that I am fully functional, I am complete, my reality is perfection, and I am an expression of creation itself. That which is around me is lacking nothing, because I am lacking nothing.

I thought of it yesterday, the last push, in a coffee shop downtown. A mellow afternoon sent suspended and happy, while my son did his thing.

I was outside, smoking again, happy, listening to tapes and basking in accomplishment and content.

And I wondered to myself, so, this is it? I am One. I am one entity. The partnership thing, the coupled magnificence thing, it is a lie, after all?

And I knew then, I was nearly there. I could feel two things where there once had been only one. I had always gotten to that place and sort of collapsed from the sheer weight of realizing that I am, in the end, responsible for One, fully aware of One, walking with just the One, always.

And yet, this was not like diving into a pool of razor blades this time. Instead, I felt a steady happiness, sort of an organic relief, and a “welcome home” sort of feeling. Gratified welcome, is how I would put it.

That split feeling faded, and it was not the pain of being separate which remained, but innate completion which lingered, and it counseled me over night.

The lie is the supposition of lack, and it is the price of admission, that I am in lack, of anything. Ever.

And what is not greeting me this fine June morning, what is not in my home, in my bank account, in my calendar book, in my bed, is not further evidence of that which I lack, nor evidence of my incompetence, nor proof of future days of futility and punishment. Nope. All of that is such fine drama. It is poppycock and it is nonsense and it is a group reality, a shared nightmare, because it is an individually held and then agreed upon hypnosis.

What is not in my reality this fine morning is not there because it isn’t there. Yet. Because it is a delight I have not yet fully considered as part of me. Not really. It is evidence of disbelief, and that is essentially all it is.

I can have anything I wish.

And I can be painting, in my reality, with paint which has true color and vibrant depth, if I understand that which I create as I go forward into my day is that which I love, that which is in me whole and desiring to meet me and delight me.

Knowing that, I will be in much better shape than imagining that what I desire is evidence I lack something, that there is some magic combination I have yet to discover, some truth that is withheld so that I can know myself as whole and good and complete.

If I truly prefer company, company can now come, because I can create from my love of it, and not my needing extinguish its absence, thinking its absence evidence of not being worthy of it.

If I truly prefer abundant wealth, financial success, material ease, let it come from a natural hedonism and love of industry, not from a need to have it borne out that I am indeed a victor within a blood sport of competition, needing to prove to everyone around me that I am competent, that I have a handle on this thing called life, the thing I will, inevitably in that space, be convinced others are doing better, and by so doing, posing threat, somehow.

I think this is the reset. This is what I have seen rolling through my relationships, many now quite miraculously healed. It is what I have seen in the mirror, again and again, and I have smiled at myself with such love these days, and I have let it come to me, without argument, more and more, that I am complete. Some sort of crazy completion is here, right here, in this skin, on these lips, in this hair, in these eyes.

From here, I can have anything. From here I can go anywhere. From here I can see everything in my reality change.

I lack nothing. I am complete, here, now, as I am, in these circumstances, now.

What I don’t enjoy I will simply not attend to, and it will fall away, and I will be glad for that.

What I don’t like now, well, I can stop bitching about it and see it as a fading object lesson. A lesson that applies as long as I can dig deep and present myself needing from you that which I cannot see I already posses, that which I have refused to explore, comprehend and claim, within.

I exit the world others still toil in, that we all struggle to find passage from, the world of knowing incompletion as guide, lack as north star, struggle as home.

I know of Home. I have proof in my soul that I am Home. I know joy in being Home. I know of its absolute perfection. Of its truth and its beauty and its love for me. I don’t need to go back into that world of incompletion, not today, not tomorrow, and never again.

And, you know, it needs to be said, that in this new land, there are so many others, those who know, those who have come through, and who are just now beginning to see the light of this new day, this new sun blazing. We are knowing, each of us, that this love we can feel between us, it is true, and it is whole, it is complete, and it is fantastic. With hands soft with gentle remembrance, we can encounter each other and do all manner of miracles, all of us knowing we are gifts and not need, each of us full, not empty. It is a marvelous thing, this new reality. The same family. Some around me will be old friends who decide they like me this way, and so many others are to come, who have been waiting, simply waiting for me to know this, so that they could approach me, finally.

And I want nothing but to start. Funny, really, thinking on that.  I already have started. This is written, and my day can thus begin.

With each beginning, there is a completion, of course.

My last essay. My final word, as an essayist of consciousness, forever to be known as deeply awake.

This is my completion.

 

YouTube Intro: Deeply Awake: My Completion By Kathy Vik 6-18-16, A final essay, and I suppose, by rights, there had to be one. I worked so hard the last few days, inside, and it crescendo’d into an awareness that I feel should be shared. It is still a rough first draft, but a beautiful one, and one that should be shared, I feel, with others who are seeking, and who resonate with my work. Namaste.

Fiction: “Risk” by Kathy Vik 6-15-16

 

The very functional draft of this is on the happymisery site, and it stands as is, it’s good, but this is the amplification it needed for it to sing. Enjoy this, all, and please consider joining the fun at http://www.happymisery.com. Weekly salon-type action, and all the changes in life that such a pursuit may indeed take you, if you are but a willing participant….

Enjoy.

RISK By Kathy Vik

http://www.kathyvik.com

http://www.happymisery.com

Dedicated to Sunny Day, and written for every one of my SiStars.

Finally Sunday again. Finally on Judy’s back porch, and finally a perfect summer evening. We were having virgin cocktails, taking a break after dinner, getting limbered up for our salon.

We call it that, our weekly gathering, an idea we all came up with after Judy started following www.happymisery.com. She told friends about the site, and it didn’t take us long to get into it, to own it,  making it a local, and a weekly, thing, throwing ourselves a party every Sunday. Many of us still contributed to the website too. Not me. One group was enough.

I was her sparkly friend, I suppose you could say, the one with one foot forward, and the other perpetually in her mouth, not for stupidity, but because of my sheer enthusiasm for life. That’s how Judy described me to myself one time, and I liked it.

I never believed it, not fully, but, I liked it, so I had her repeat it, and themes therefrom, from time to time, through the years. She was skilled at complimenting others, and, frankly, I needed the reminders, at times, of good things that I’d forgotten, or misplaced, or was overlooking. She made me feel better, and it helped me cope, when I needed to hear the good stuff.

She always obliged when I’d ask.

This month, she’d been assigning the weekly word, and I was exhausted. These words had been demanding, and they liked to bang around in my brain like toddlers in front of overturned pots, grinning, slobbering and swinging away, night and day.

The others were astounded, sometimes, with what I came up with, but people always have been, really. I mean, come on, be honest, once I finally open my mouth and say what I think, they always are. I chuckled.

Truth be told, there were certain things that took me absolutely years to say, and then with pain, even when thinking on it so long past, even after all this time.

I shook my head and grinned. Not anymore, I thought, suddenly. An electric shock ran through me, thinking about what I’d come to understand, this morning. I had to tell her. It felt like an imperative. I didn’t know exactly why.

Now that we were contemplating, really thinking on a word, once a week, I found I was getting deeper, somehow, week to week. The others told me I was a natural born writer. It’s funny. I’d been told my whole life-long I was a bit of an unnatural, ineffective dreamer. I liked these women’s perspectives far better.

With this writing thing, I felt like I was coming into my own, and I saw it in the rest of them, too, as we proceeded. We were each coming closer to ourselves and liking what we found, I think, as we looked forward to our time thinking on the week’s word, and then we all create our individual responses, and then, of course, our quiet, boho Sunday evenings, eating, the conversations gentle and super-deep, all of us dialed in already to be so shockingly honest and dirty audacious and irreverent as all hell.

Kind of have to be, these days. Fuck.

So, she’d picked this word, and it was time to let her know that her relationship with the English language was not the same as mine, and a lesson in picking words was in order.

It had led me far, but, really, it was wrong to bitch about this. It was kind of gross to.

Sure, I was tired, but I was satisfied with what had gotten me here, what I’d learned and how I felt now, because I took the word choice so seriously.

Now I can just enjoy this state of sweet satisfaction, and rest, this place of relief, and quiet, and I can trust it now, because it is alive and pulsing inside me with this steady, solid, undeniable, full on goodness.

Smoking used to soothe and relax me after a feast. Now just talking big did that for me. I’ve learned to seek out those who encourage it, this need of mine to let my wilder horses run free. And there, across from me, sits Judy. For all her restrictions, she always let me speak my mind.

We were settled into our usual chairs, out here. I liked my view the best. I was glad she liked her spot like I liked mine.

She gave me the floor.

Ok, then, I know you’ve heard some weird shit come out of me,” I said, my mouth sparkling with mint I’d just chewed up. “Good God that Mojito” I thought to say, but didn’t because something else was coming. It had to be given some space.

But this is different. I think it’s going to help you. It already cured me. But, the way it is now, what it wants to say, it’s like just walking down a hall, in my head, and it feels like I have to squeeze myself to the wall, like, you know? It’s a big motherfucker.” I shrugged, found my smokes.

She’d been telling me once again this week about that decision she’d made, about ten and a half years ago, that she could then never bring herself to say, and still, even after finally declaring it, even after once and for all balling up her fists and saying it, it ate at her, it rang in her, and I could tell that even now, she wondered if it was really safe here, in this wonderfully lush and weird landscape she’d made magically spring up, once she finally embodied her long swallowed truth,  a few months back.

I knew it to be the waves on a beach, in that phase when the moon is pulling the water back up to the stars, is how I see it.

All I know is the water, and motion, and peace, on a beach, though some know of ebbs and flows and symboled charts and terms. They seem to know a lot about the ocean.

But I like to be able to look at this one thing, the ocean, just really the one thing on earth, in my reality, yes, after all, it seems it’s just the one, that I have never had to explain to myself.

It is a singular relief, when I don’t have a single question, and it’s so easily achieved sitting on a beach, really close to the action, but far enough away to not get wet.

The waves come. And then they come, and then they come. The kinds of waves she’s having get littler, which is nice; at least, they seem to be, and that’s how they do with me, too. But for now, they are big waves, and when they are cresting so high, she looks at me and knows what I am now unafraid of as risky.

Of course it appears risky.

And I was once petrified.

But this, this needs to be said.

Here’s the thing,” I said, stubbing out my smoke, having gotten lost in my thoughts, looking at the lawn, while seated on the porch, taking it all in, knowing, now, what it means to be at peace.

Wait a minute,” she says, and gets up, telling me she has to do a thing or two, and get a refill. Virgin Mojitos are still Mojitos, I smile, as I sip mine, and wait, and just unhook from it all, knowing the thoughts will come when they are supposed to. And then she gets to settle in and I get to tell her what I have allowed to squeeze past me in that queer hallway, in my head.

It’s sitting out there in the backyard. It’s like this huge, gentle giant that attracts woodland animals and every single true happiness in the world. Just pure love, but of the earth, like a huge earth child, almost, the lightness of it, the innocence of it too. I can’t feel anything but well-being, imagining this scene.

The screen door cracks shut, and she sits. She fishes a Kool from her pack. She looks at her phone, puts it down. Looks at me. Turns it over.

Well, ok, here’s the thing,” I start. “I just have to say I think this was a crap ass word to use this week. There had to have been a better one, one that’s more subtle and sort of fetching and alluring. This one speaks of full on argument, and sudden death, really.

Risk.

So I had to really freaking think about it, and I don’t like doing that all that much, because I am lazy. You know that I prefer to just play.” I smiled, rambling, feeling happy, allowed to be free, now. Allowed, invited,  to speak.

But, it sure as shit led me places, and finally, it landed me on the edge of my bed, this morning, pulling it all together.” I shake my head and grin. “Talk about a salon word, Judy.”

She was looking at me patiently, intently, like she does when I am spouting.

So, what if you finally get it, just way down deep, just full on, that you are the rocket you are, you know?” I asked.

The rocket you are. Oh, how I wished I could explain the fireworks going off in my body about this. So I continued.

Ok, so, dig it, all the things I can see about you, that I try to remind you of, but also the things neither of us can see because we are both too close to it, but also, Judy, the things that make you singular, extraordinary.

Every single one of all your experiences, like, and, just think of it, all the stuff maybe only one bestie knows, and then, all the stuff you know that no one else in the whole freaking world does? Do you know what I mean?”

I breathed. I smiled. I continued.

And then, oh my god, the stuff that I can see that just blows my socks off about you Judy, all those experiences you’ve had, and then how you used them. How they made you resilient, and wise, and funny as hell, and strong, and tough as nails, and so precious, so unique, so absolutely fucken perfect.”

She was listening.

So. Was. I.

So what happens if one day you are sitting at the side of your bed, and maybe you’re listening to a song that makes you feel like a total badass goddess, ok, and you just finally for once in your gut wrenching, amazing, sacred, seamy, laugh out loud funny, mindpoppingly loving, generous, intense, full-on, exalted life just get how glorious you are?  The writing, the sacrifice, the interests, the passions, the willingness, the heart, the sex, the loss, the love, the grief, the joy, the full on will, the invincibility, and”

I paused. I needed to breathe. Caught up again in this feeling of holy crap this is so amazing. I am so amazing. I feel so good about this!

I began again, “And there you are, on the side of your bed realizing the totality of you, and all the things you know to be shit about you are just part of this glittery, stunning worth and beauty that is you, and Jesus, the heart you see blazing in your life, and in your relationships, but, more than that, just how much you have endured, and come to know, and you get a glimpse of what you are going to be, and what that means to so many others, and how creative and enduring and beautiful and motherfucking awesome you are? All of it.

You just get it.

You’re a rocket

I looked up at her and smiled, and sighed. I shrugged.

What happens then?

Is anything a risk, then?”

We let the silence settle between us, listened to the neighbor rustle hedges with clippers, a few houses down. Quiet, today. Still.

Because, it’s happened to me. And I got it. Big time, all the way. Kaleidoscopic, telescopic, psychedelic, stone cold sober, sitting there, this morning. I guess I’ll have to write this up as my piece on risk, huh?”

I sighed, kicked the table leg. “Fuck. That sounds like work.”

She gestured, looking like she was going to respond. I wanted to say something more, I realized, so I interrupted her.

There’s just something I need to say, maybe I just need to hear. That makes it real, I find, and it’s important to me to have some of this stuff witnessed. It helps. Is that ok? Yeah, it gets a little into the weird, but I won’t get freaky, I promise. Can I tell you just a little more?”

She nodded, smiled, gestured to me I still had the floor. She didn’t mind. She knew I had a complicated love life, and she liked hearing about it, in smaller doses. And, she knew I still had to work up to copping to it with someone who hasn’t gone where I have gone.

I don’t know. It was amazing. I really felt so pleased, in a brand new way, just, so pleased, with what I have become.

But, fuck, it’s the weirdest thing. Those words, ‘pleased with it all,’ they’re like, oh, I don’t know, that uncooked spaghetti in a plastic tube stuff.

Compare that stuff to the best meal you ever had, your perfect meal, but where you can eat and eat anything at all, for all time, and all you get is healthier. Like that.

I really understood why it is that I am able to function at a whole new level now, it’s available all the time now, if I want it.

For me, in the beginning, it was something I wanted, but something I was deathly afraid of all at the same time. I ran from it. I just played at the corners of it. But I have friends who show me how they do it, so that helps.

But, really, comparing how people are doing it is not the point.

Oh my God, Judy! To come from a place of self esteem, real, true, self esteem, from the inside out, you know? And to mean those words way down deep…. Then,” I shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s sort of like, who the fuck cares what anyone else thinks, right? It begins to fundamentally not matter.

And therefore, dear word picker outer, what is a risk?

If I know I’m the coolest motherfucker in my universe, well, then, that changes things a bit.

It means I won’t agree to do stuff that I find disrespectful, that doesn’t somehow allow this happiness and my coolness of being to shine through. And I won’t, then, be troubling myself over things that trouble me. I really can pass, instead of getting twisted up about it, or arguing about it.

And I don’t have to feel diminished if someone says no. Depending on how much of an asshole they are about it, I get to tell them to ‘Fuck off,’ or ‘Suck my dick,’ like my buddy says, or ‘Too bad, it’s your loss, Charlie,’ or ‘Ok, well I’m still gonna love you anyway, but from over here, doofus,’ is all.

So, there really is no risk. And if I can do that in love, well of course I can do it with a boss. That’s easy, compared to getting things right with friends, and with lovers, sometimes.”

I looked out at the trees, swaying, now, as dark came closer. Still warm enough to continue, and to smoke again. I lit up, and thought about what this might mean for me now.

I flashed on what it’s always meant, for me, in the end.

See, there’s that sudden death I was talking about, Judy.

One way or the other, well, there it is, right?

I get to go on.

I used to think the only legit way to live was partnered, and I beat myself up for not having that, for not being able to hang with it, even when it was obviously not built to last, even when it was literally killing me dead.

Still, I know what I like, and I like being partnered. So, for me, now, at least, that’s what I want for my life. It’s time to be happy, and that’s the way I’m happiest. So, now I’m getting that. I’m ready, and it’s gonna come. Because that’s what I want, and I am really ok with it, now. I’m not fighting against it anymore. I’m seeing it makes a lot of sense, and maybe that because I’m just not embarrassed about it anymore. That’s such a relief.”

Judy shrugged, and gestured, silently, for me to continue, knowing there was more to this.

She, for one, had no argument with being partnered.

You’ve seen me in the poly community, in the lifestyle, Judy, and you’ve witnessed how I have blossomed. I have come to love people and connecting again! And with them, I can be receptive and fluid and sort of not give a fuck about relationship status, not let that hold me back or whatever, because the people I know accept pretty much all things.

They love to talk about it, too, and when it’s done well, it’s just the best thing I have ever known.

The great part about these people is that everybody shares this common knowledge that it’s possible to love a whole lot, a lot more than you imagined possible, and to do it deeply, without hurting anybody, when you’re with people of integrity, and oh my, all this loving is done in so very very very many ways.”

I trailed off, a smile lighting across my face. I shifted in my seat. This was complicated, but it needed to be said. Just for me. She was being so nice about it.

Still, that also puts me in the company of those who don’t seem to be able or willing, most of them, to get to the focusing down and doing the grad level work of full on parternedness. That to me is where the gold is, but it has to be with someone who is worthy of it, all of it,  now. Someone who gets this, this thing I know.

See? Because of that side of the bed thing, and how I feel now.

So, if I get to decide, instead of letting everybody tell me where I can touch them and how much and for how long, well, that’s fine, that’s consent, and that’s key, but, even that seems fussy and limiting and restrictive, at the moment.

I know that I want to go somewhere where all there is is yes, I guess. With one person. It’s how I’m built. I know this to be true.

Maybe that’s a pipe dream. But I really don’t know how it can be, Judy. I want it, I know it as mine, and I saw what i saw at he side of my bed this morning, after all.

After feeling all of that, I really don’t think it is, anymore.

I think there are a whole lot of special persons out there, actually, and I’m thinking that some of them may have actually come to know what I know now, they may have seen what I have seen, this morning. There just have to be.

Besides, Judy,if I am this, and I know you are this too, then, it stands to reason everyone is this freaking amazeballs. They are just maybe more aware of it, or less aware of it, maybe.

I’ve been thinking, I’ve told you about it, Judy, that maybe I have gotten too big to be happy with just one love, but really I think that’s the delusion, that’s the sickness. That funny expectation, held as the highest ideal, that I held as the highest ideal, and that I still do, weirdly, but it is also, I think, the illness.

That notion of exclusivity, it goes against the laws of physics, and denies quantum reality, but still,” I took a drag and looked at her. I still had her attention. “I know what home feels like, and I don’t want my home violated, if I am sharing it with only one other person. It’s a tent peg thing, really. It’s a consent thing, seems like.

And even though I suspect it’s the “one other person exclusively” thing that is the trouble, still, I know what it feels like to be with somebody who cannot imagine making any choice but me, just day after glorious day, well, why wouldn’t we want it to, if I can find this, and we can sustain it?

And, well, just take a look at me. Why the fuck wouldn’t they take this ride?” I smiled, pulled up my arms in a “ta-da” pose. “And that is the point. Why the fuck wouldn’t they?”

I looked at her then, struck by her willingness to let me be me, and her timid excitement at letting herself be herself once again, finally.

And, Judy, I think this is the point to me bringing this up to you. This impossible seeming thing, it’s what I want, but it’s also what I truly want for you, too, if you’ll allow me to be so bold, because it’s also what I want for my son when he grows up, too.

That full-on, appreciative, open, alive love, just there, in your face, smiling at you, with you smiling back, day to day. I mean, can you imagine what you could create from THERE?

You know?

So, Judy, just, please know, I don’t give advice, it’s just not my thing, but after what happened to me this morning, I need to tell you something.

I see your strength and resilience and intelligence and spirituality and connectedness and all these things, and how far you’ve come, and how far you can go, and how hard it was for you to come to a decision, and all of those things.

The side of the bed thing makes me want to take you by the shoulders and tell you never, never, never again share your space with someone who would speak to you like he did, who takes advantage of you, demands you feels small and worthless and unworthy of simple human decency, grinds you into the dust and then laughs at you because you let him. Just don’t do it. I’m relieved you have said no to him. I really am. Just, I have to tell you.”

I stopped. I thought about it all. I let it all crash through me. I’d never let on just how similar my experience had been to hers. I continued. I was almost done. I was glad. I was getting tired.

You may need that, again and again, and if that’s how you need to roll, if that’s how it is, well, ok then, I know that dance, and I’ll stand by, and I’ll love you through it, again and again, if need be, but forever, now, I’ll be knowing it will happen for you, someday, and I’ll be waiting for you to then, just, in a flash, when you least expect it, find yourself like I was this morning.

And in that moment, you’re going to love yourself all the way into and back from your soul. And, Judy, how can you not?! Just look at you!” I chuckled, “You can’t help but, when you look at yourself the way I can see you now, the way I saw myself, whole, like I did this morning.

And in the meantime, no problem. I did some of my shit for decades. I was still running some of my shit before it all hit me so full on. And I may still run some of my shit. That’ll be up to me, I guess, and it’ll be just fine. It’s my shit.

Whatever. See, so I’m not implying you don’t value yourself now, okay? I’m just saying, you maybe don’t yet fully get how completely juicy ripe and straight-up gorgeous and totally unfuckwithable you really are, is all.”

I fingered another smoke, played with it, pulled the lighter out of my pocket.

I don’t know. All I’m asking is, for next week’s salon piece, pick a word that I can get sexy with. These full on, in your face words are freaking me out a little. “Wrong”, um, what were some of the other ones? “Force?”

I laughed.

I guess I’m going to need about twenty minutes to write all this shit down for my piece. Or maybe, you think anybody would mind if I write about that board game? I could do something with that. It would be a relief, after all this fucking processing.”

I looked at my phone. We had a half hour. Plenty of time to whip something up. I had just one more thing to say, to bring it all home, so I could be done with it. I needed to pee.

Judy, just, please, don’t worry about whether or not you’re going to find a man. Think instead about how lucky that bastard is going to wind up discovering he is. What an amazing ride he’s signed up for, huh? 

You already know you’re the best show in town, right?, so expect him to show you he respects your inner worthiness, that you’re a gd goddess, you know?, and of course, you’re gonna see it blazing from his eyes and skin and junk, and make sure he can and does to tell you and show you all about it, in ways that delight both of you and drive the two of you wild.

And then maybe you can just let go of finding fault, and just relax with giving that sugar back, then, nice and sweet, just like you always are, sweet Judy, when you’re safe and feel all loved and fluffed and sure of yourself.

But, I don’t know, consider this a permission slip to just shut that other shit down, with the ones who really like to hurt you, and hit you below the belt, and name cal,l and fuck with your head, and scream at your soul. You know what I mean.

Who the fuck needs that?

Don’t go back. Just, be done with that, please, my friend. You’re worth more than that.

I only just figured out I am this morning, because of that word, so, maybe the risk was in thinking on it like I did. I just don’t know.

I really have to go pee. Got any cake?”

Deeply Awake CHANNEL: Relieving Distress Energetically, and Discovering Your Well Of Compassion By Kathy Vik 5-30-16

 

 

 

 

The Council Has a Few Words, In Summary, For The Curious:

Below is Master Kryon’s astoundingly clear work on the quantum nature of mood and behavioral states, presented appropriately as The Physics Of Consciousness, The Consciousness Of Physics, at this point, they are one and the same, WE say.

The channel from Deeply Awake and The Council Of Twelve, if you want to call us that,  further amplifies, describes and explains these Physics in behavioral and mood state terms, real life, day to day stuff, step by step, always bringing everything home to daily life, and the relief of inner (and outer) distress.

This is done while also explaining morphogenic fields as magnetic fields of consciousness, and that behaviors, mood states, thoughtforms, belief structures, and a trebling into (as you see there is simple progression)  egoic patterning, and finally, energetic stance within any given reality, generate probability and agreement fields, and that  these are the behavioral and mood manifestations of states of consciousness, of awareness, of constrictive or expansive realities, WE say.

This theory is further borne out and amplified in the great work already realized and applied with curative outcomes, by Mr. (and WE say Master) Enrique Bouron, and those whose shoulders he rides on, physicians who opened the field of quantum healing through understanding how the Innate speaks to the individual, and what the individual holds within, comprehended by Bouron and others as biological coding This coding is more linked to the study of DNA and genetics than is currently being pursued, but will one day be, WE are anticipating.

Although neither he nor Rupert Sheldrake are credited in this channel, they deserve crediting here.They have been credited in past changelings, which were done to allow incremental, gentle, but WE say, quite rapid realization and complete integration of this theory, within the physical vehicle. Reference the early ascension videos and then other videos talking about a big thing that happened, and homecoming, such like that, to get a feel for how all that happened, WE say, ok?) Each of these scientists and thinkers, the writer happily included in this lot, have moved the ball very far down the playing field, toward the goal of one day allowing those who wish to heal, to do so rapidly ( per ability and intent, willingness and natural bent, among other factors) but, no matter how long, to heal quite fully and completely, through incremental progression in states of consciousness.

There is much on the subatomic level which can and should be applied to this work, but, this channel is a good place to start, the one below, and the one that then follows. They tickle things, and they help, WE posit. Give it a whirl, if you’re curious. Stop reading if you’re not. It is a simple choice, is it not? But, WE say, there is magic and there is fun and there is the Future in the trying on something new,.

A new thought is fun, every now and then.

The work of Master Kryon  leads quite naturally to the study known as Coherence, which WE have been presenting incrementally to you, the viewer and on looker, and WE are certain you may begin to understand the value of a more comprehensive, respectful and cooperative integration of the established Sciences, as they all become a bit more heart-based, as a result of this curious shift occurring in humanity’s willingness to think more fluidly and softly, as they demonstrate their own curiosity and willingness to try new things on for size.

This Deeply Awake channel can stand as a way to demonstrate the integrative and helpful, and curiously healing ways in which these studies can come together to actually soothe and guide people who are ready for this kind of teaching, as well as those who are “in the shit,” as the writer  has come to call it, a state she knows very well. So, to her, and to the ones who are ready or willing, we say, “Welcome Home.”

To all others, we say Namaste.

And here are my liner notes…

An absolutely phenomenal channel about mood states, thought patterns, morphogenic/magnetic fields, altering perspective to gain compassionate awareness, but how all of this might apply to a human being deep in the shit. They made all of it so easily understandable, and hanging with it was well worth the time, for me, anyway. It was a pretty amazing energy blowing through me this afternoon. They now how to handle me when I get belligerent, haha.

They discuss the technique of seeing life as story, and give some beautiful examples which I really want to remember to apply. I think I will be reviewing this one, from time to time, is all I’m saying.

I think it’s really funny, but didn’t at the time, when they volunteered me as the example, but I’m more than ok with it now. It shows, the level of resistance I still put up, how they work with me on that, how they answer questions and help me see things, and all of this, I do indeed give permission for.

I think it helps, to know what it’s like, and have been, for a long time, wanting to do an essay on what it is like to be in the middle of all this, as the one “riding point,” as I like to say. So, have at it, it’s a fine example of how they guide, soothe and instruct me, and, by so doing, how they love and protect me.

I am really pleased, and more than a little shocked, in a way, that this came from me. I am proud of our work. I don’t feel anything but good things, pushing the “Publish” button today, and that is a great feeling, too. No fear, no apprehension, no wondering if it’s ok to have spoken my piece. Wowie Zowie, Batman!

And So, Let The Channeling Extravaganza Begin!

 

 

Deeply Awake: Activation City By Kathy Vik 5-21-16

We begin with Kryon, and his parable of Wo… His voice begins at 3:30, and as I learned last night, and know is true today, every single word is true,for me, for my soul, for my expression,  now.  Every. Single. Word.

 

 

 

What follows are two HIGHLY ACTIVATING videos, the first is me figuring out the meaning and significance of events of the night before (hence my oily hair, not due to lack of hygiene, just a lot of Fractionated Coconut Oil), and the second is a channel which amplifies, confirms, instructs and soothes, at least it does me.

Please don’t watch either of these videos if the “weird” library are not to your taste… Either those other videos leave you feeling like you did not understand one word, or they make you feel woozy or scared, somehow, or just not quite right, but in a bad way. Please. That is not to say that one day those videos won’t feel like warm velvet to your skin, but if for now they make you mad or create inner discomfort, then, let it be known very clearly that these, then, WILL NOT BE pleasant for you. After all, viewing these things is not mandatory, RIGHT?! One day, it might feel so super great, and maybe not, and either way is so beautiful that, to hold yourself in judgment as to whether you watch or not, well, that is not necessary. Things happen as they should. TRUST YOUR FEELINGS! Please, do this for YOU, listen to your guidance, and act accordingly.  And thank you.