Deeply Awake — Work, Now 3-13-14 By Kathy Vik
The last time we spoke, I was feeling blank, oddly but unmovingly blank. That went on til nighttime, when I had a good cry, asking for help. Two relatively sleepless nights, same ole-same ole.
I knew by nightfall that I was going through another change. I donned my armor, my shield, my sword. I concentrated on love, even though everything was on mute. I tried to elevate my thoughts to love.
Went to sleep murmuring, “It’s time for gifts, now. It’s time for gifts. Make it wonderful and sparkly, and have people offering me gifts, and let me know it’s you. It’s time for gifts now.”
I felt better the next morning. I am neutral toward this process now, which is a gift in itself, actually. It was very weird and scary the first few times, and the time spent was elongated. I think as things progress the time it takes to come into a new vibratory state, after an expansion (often felt innately, not consciously), then the contraction, revisiting the old vibration, and then resonating with the new pitch, well, I think it happens faster now.
It has been a while since I have had such a night, but it fits a pattern. Sometimes my bootless cries are made while driving, while on the can, while at a movie. It’s always safe, when I reach that place, but it is a peculiar and, by now, familiar place. I was glad I had not gone through the extremes I once did, and then I had my night of crying and praying.
On the way to work the next day, I remembered the prayer I’d made, the command, the invitation to play, and I affirmed it, with excitement.
I realized, the last couple of days, as the lights have gotten brighter than ever, once again, that when I am in emotional distress of any kind, really, it is mostly due to projecting my consciousness into a future or a potential that I really do not want, and may dread, or fear, or wish I could avoid.
If I stay there, then my distress grows. I have become aware of the feeling states these thoughts produce, just very vividly, the last couple of days. It is clear to me that this is sort of like an amnesiac regaining a memory. It feels organic, what I understand now, and I feel like what I understand I can and do demonstrate, actively but gently, all day long, with everybody, including myself.
I was given a glimpse into what my cat Minky might be experiencing in her consciousness. I thought about how it might be possible to talk with my cats in a new way. Rosie is a teacher of mine. She’s laid down some heavy things, with a simple gesture, with a nod.
Each of them have blown me away with information, with knowledge, that it is hard to translate, but this last thing, I think it bears discussion, however brief. It’s all tied together, I promise.
As I was petting Minky I sort of asked her if it was ok, to just be with her and feel what she does. Relatively quickly, I sensed a rushing sort of feeling, into her, and become acutely aware of this moment.
It was just this moment, for all time, indefinitely, and in this state, none of the future stuff makes a dent. It’s not applicable. I felt more and more overwhelmed with this pure joy, this pure love, this absolute abandon, in this very moment, in this act of licking, of being petted, of being here. No overlay of thought, just pure celebration. That was the word that lingered. Celebration.
I have been trying to recapture the essence of me, during the depths of my changes, spring and summer, 2012. I went through massive physical and mental and attitudinal changes in just a few months, lost allergies, changed my diet, on and on it goes. A potent time. Joyful, everything, joyful, and yet, there was worry, doubt, and many, many things I did not understand.
But recapturing the essence of it is getting to where Minky led, to this moment, to the absolute, truthful, beautiful realization that that’s all there is.
This idea of being in the moment, this one, now, and dismissing the distress as a symptom, possibly, of projecting my consciousness irresponsibly, I gave it a whirl today. That’s the innate thing, it’s just sort of kicking in, all on its own.
I felt all these projections, in all directions, come back into me, as I was waiting for the light to change, on the way to work today. I felt it all come back to me, every goal and hope and aspiration, every object I have craved, every high, every novel experience, I brought it all in, and said out loud, “I am here, now. I am here, now. I am here, now.” I felt good, complete, somehow, as I turned left onto Colfax. On my way to work, to my gifts, my miracles.
It has been my saving grace. It has deepened me as no other profession could have. I am blessed to have been a part of this profession. It’s an archaic system, inadequate and not as good as it could be, but still, I am proud of what I do for a living.
The thing is, I didn’t always think that way. I considered it my burden, by sacrifice, my second choice. I felt cheated out of a literary life, and my writer’s ego was continually bruised when people didn’t recognize the very weirdness I used to feel ashamed of.
I had lamented not having been surrounded by literary people, well read, well rounded. I am not. Not at all. Never have been. And yet, here I am, thirty years later, and, although grateful that I kept my love of the arts alive all this time, I no longer resent those who are not sensitive, or who have interests other than mine. It’s more than that. It’s so much more than that, though.
I had been reticent to talk about work because it’s not appropriate to speak of specific situations, or people, I work with. And for the first month or more, I was obsessed, so very obsessed, with the issues at work. I was puzzling over all them incessantly, talking out loud, making speeches, organizing, expressing.
Then I had that experience, as described previously, about blankness, and obsessing, and all sorts of other things, of course. Since that night of having tears for things, things have come into focus. I understand my distress comes from hopelessness, or fatigue, or this bad feeling I get when I see no relief in sight, just obligations. I sort of hit a wall. I don’t like living that way. I prefer free-form.
The last week or so, I have been considering being exceedingly well-off, while getting dressed, or driving, or while on a coffee break. It feels really good. Just to feel safe, secure, no financial obligations, everything in order. I like how it feels. Tinkering with it, and this burgeoning sense of confidence I have.
I feel sheepish talking about it, but I feel groundedly, foundedly confident. There is nothing that turns me off more, frankly, than ungrounded, unbalanced confident people. I’ve witnessed it at its extreme, and find it ugly in all its flavors. There is a very fine line between confidence and arrogance, and too few understand this line is a chasm into which those who do not seek, do not discover it, to walk around it instead.
Work, for me, has always been a salvation. I seemed to know instinctively, no matter how odd and crazy my insides got, if I could keep the outsides functioning, even nominally, if necessary, then I was ok. And so, for the two years I too off, and for the eight years preceding that, things got progressively ready for shift, let’s say. But still, I showed up for work. All these years, and struggles, and changes, but I always showed up for work.
Work is where I have met such a multitude of people, and so many good souls, so many masters. Work is where I went to feel competent.
I began to question my competence, and anyone who has seen me practicing at my peak knows this is bizarre, but there I was. It was just one more thing I was attached to, one more definition that was untrue. I am competent at work.
Hmm. This is an attachment.
And I broke it. Not so much by what I did, but I moved under a dark cloud, worked with suspicious, sometimes corrupt, and often unkind people, just a string of places that kicked my ass. I’d had it with work groups, unplugging as I did in 2012. I was gun shy, but would make calls, during that time, trying to land a permanent gig, but, no play. No juice at all. No return phone calls!
We hung with it, and Sam got used to hearing “later,” and “on pay day,” at the store a lot, but we got through it.
I felt like an incompetent outcast at work, a lot of the time. Just, probably, a treble of the same blah blah I’ve been telling myself forever, that I am an outcast, a foreigner, an alien.
So, I have come through all of this freaking psychodrama realizing a thing or two. First, given to me this morning pulling into work, is the notion that these guys, for all the frustration and all the shifting sand, these people are doing me such a solid. Each and every one of them are special, and they are helping me during this time of integration. They’ve stepped up to help me, as I have stepped up to help them. It is a truly beautiful thing.
That made the nonsense I see playing out around me tolerable.
I am shining, as I have never shone, at this new job. I am sought out, and I am kind to those who seek me out, helpful and kind. People like me. I hold myself differently than those around me, and it’s as obvious as my chipped tooth. Just as Marge did for me, and Carolyn, I’m raising people’s game. I new that going in. And so, the details obsessed me, for a few weeks, framing and reframing, puzzling, always puzzling.
Things are quieter now. I notice I am not as reactive, more instructive, but still goofy and laughing a lot. I’ve finally given myself permission to be competent, to admit I am balanced and confident in my balance, never arrogant, always thoughtful.
Yes, I have my moments, and I have my coping strategies. There are a couple at work who are occasionally successful at pushing a button or two, but it is rare, and it is always followed by an explanation and an apology. Always.
And so, I see all of this playing out, and I am struck with the beauty, the impermanence, and yet the solidity, the sturdiness, of this chapter of my life. Who knows if this is a short story or a super-long novel? Who knows? But I can be here now. I can find joy in this moment, and I can take remarkable care of myself.
The last bit that has been playing in my head, and out, too, is the idea that having what I said I wanted is not as important anymore. I was cooking one night when it dawned on me there are things I have always wanted to do this lifetime, and some of it, I’m just not going to be able to work in.
I thought, while looking at the cover of Sunset Magazine, on top of the microwave, that maybe, for now, I can drop this determination to live in Leadville. Maybe that’s a past life calling to me. Maybe it’s an echo. I could let it go.
With that, I had a great sense of relief. I could feel things I’d promised myself I’d do, or stuff that I have always felt a little inadequate because I hadn’t achieved it, it sort of melted off of me. It felt good.
Maybe it’s another echo of this theme, of being here now.
It has taken this work experience for me to experience myself like this, and I am grateful for the gander. I would not have known, not really, the changes that have become a new normal for me, changes I am proud of, and now come from effort, training, intent, depth. I don’t, can’t resent those who don’t want to go further.
I don’t think less of the person who’s finding, as I often feared I would, their reserves completely exhausted, things going unwell, being in a bad situation. There’s a lot of that going on for others. It’s not all peachy for everyone.
And here I come, in the thick of it, and they are letting me shine! That’s the part I am really overjoyed and incredulous with. They are encouraging me to be myself! Never have I encountered such a thing, to this degree.
I want to end on that, because it is such a miracle. It is hard to believe oneself competent when one is surrounded by critical, mean, petty people. Did the world turn nice, or did I change? Our subculture tells us it is a mixture, that everyone’s vibration is increasing. We are all seeing more clearly.
And really, I think that’s the truth. I have felt like the world has been sleeping, preparing, and now things are moving. Maybe it’s just my crying jag, and I am being a douche for globalizing an emotional episode. But I think it is bigger than that, much bigger. I see what I have become, thanks to this new work. I see the changes.
Others see it, and have no history, so there is no dissonance, just invitation. And it is wonderful. To see smiles, to have people ask how I am and care what I answer. Lord God Almighty, it’s been a long time coming.
And now I have the truth to it. It’s not this set of people, this job, that is the miracle. They are wonderful, and good and dear friends, but the manifestation came from the inner work. The preparation was a lifetime, and yet, this can be said for any moment in one’s. That thought has been frequent too, to end.
The idea that everything I have been or will be, it is in this moment, this is my portal to it all, this moment.
How precious this life! This heart! These eyes! And the words I speak, the actions I take, the reactions I choose to act out, oh, this is where the work is done.
Moment to moment, one moment after another. Miraculous to find this at work, through work.
The problems, every single one of them, they are solvable. We are on a grand adventure.
It’s not lost on me how many loved ones prayed for me and showed me support during the lean times. I was so well loved through this. Thank you.
That’s my beautiful manifestation. There is a bit more, but I want to wait a little before telling you more. But, I tell you, things are looking up.
And now, the next thought is not about how it will slip through my fingers or be taken from me. Those projections, I am on top of it now.