ASCENSION FIELD NOTES – TO PARTICIPATE BY KATHY VIK 12-17-13

ASCENSION FIELD NOTES – TO PARTICIPATE BY KATHY VIK 12-27-13

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

 

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

 

Then I was in a dried up swimming pool (there is no reason to add some of these details, except for them being funny) with my ex-husband, William Katt, an amalgam. I was lying on a chaise lounge reading a book, red and black cover, “What To Do When Your Marriage Is Failing.” I had been reading it as a review of the marriage I’d come from, with a user, someone who used the me I presented, instead of loving the me I presented. But Bradley saw this scenario, and he got very, very upset.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

And I realized, and said, this is the last time that either of us are going to have to do this running around yelling and crying thing. I love you. You love me. I mean, it was in my core, that I loved this guy, connected and adored, respected and loved. And the way he had acted toward me when I’d had my blow out had shown me that I had been completely incorrect in my bad assumptions. He loved me this way, the way I love him.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

I thought, as the movie played, that my stance has long been one of unwillingness, of resentment that has now been ground down to simple weariness. Sometimes the world is too much with me, invading my thoughts with all the closed fists and closed minds I hear about in the news. For example, I read something yesterday which still reverberates. The Republicans, it is said, are slightly ahead in polling about the 2014 election. Slightly ahead with the populace.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

And therein lied the dissonance, really, always.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

They always have.

 

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

 

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

 

That’s it.

 

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

 

I remember in the dream, I kept my mouth shut as he gestured wildly and was upset, smiling, I was, and sort of glowing with love, because I knew something he did not. There was no need to defend, to get in there and try and convince him. It was something he needed to get out of his system, and it really had nothing to do with me, as I saw it. I loved him, and he was reading things with a bias that told him he was unloved, and maybe he even was pacing with that hairy, smelly monster who just loves to bellow at its prey, “You’re not only unloved, you are unlovable!”

 

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

 

And then it hit me, and this is not the nicest thought to admit to, that I have not really shown up for others all that much. How could I, convinced as I was that no one loved me, or was even capable of love. I had made a nice thick wall I could only hear distant rumbling through. I had built a wall of inferiority and superiority, depending on the person and the situation, and I had repeatedly and with much diligence made it pretty hard to even find me, much less love me, because I really really really don’t participate.

 

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

 

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

 

Even the ones who are critical, those who tell us all, hey, fend for yourselves, figure it out, sink or swim. That whole mentality is what is thankfully dissolving, the one that says that as long as I have mine, there is no need to worry about you, that is the one that needs to be retried. It is unloving, and tricks people into thinking they are unloved, and then, it sets in, the poison finds its mark, and we believe we are unlovable, abandoned, our survival tenuous, dependent on those who don’t even see us when they look into our eyes. Am I talking about your boss? Your senator? Your wife? Your dad? Yourself, as you gaze into the mirror?

 

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

 

And so, I finished watching the movie, and realized that showing up, participating, this is what it’s about for me now, and I can do it now, because, I have now figured out that even when it looks as if I am unloved, I am loved. Even if I am bumped around, I am loved. Even when I am told to do something which is debasing or even apparently contemptuous, I am loved. I am loved. I am loved.

 

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

 

And then, I understood the finer points to it.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

I am not saying that those who are judgmental, or mean or even abusive should be ignored. Far from it. But engaging in that sort of nonsense, well, that is optional. If the game must be played on a crooked board, where the rules are rigid and the outcome is assured for only one of the participants, that just doesn’t interest me anymore. It is boring, it is old, it is outdated, small, uncomfortable, no longer attractive.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

I had gone to sleep asking for help about removing for all time this sense of futility and this sense of not liking the culture I live in all that much. How mean and petty it seems people have gotten, everyone doing things they would rather not do, because they are afraid of losing their jobs. Oh the things we do to each other in the name of fearing for our jobs, fearing “negative feedback,” fearing bad evaluations, fearing, fearing, fearing. I am tired of that. I want to lay it down. Remove this from me, I said, the coldness that I feel sometimes, out and about, in my culture. Remove this.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

I will end by telling you about this recurring thought of mine. I think I wrote about it, a dream I had that told me why it was that we can have hope. I keep getting it though, a vision and feelings and thoughts which tell me that the field has cleared. I feel this golden field out in front of me, all around me now, and this one is filled with benevolence, miracles, laughter, high regard, symmetry, luck, goodwill, kindnesses, a million kindnesses, smiling, all smiling and welcoming, this field that is just a gold mist, but contains everything that is good. It is out there, and I understand that as I reach its vibration, it is just simple physics that this is what my life is and will ever be. This is physics at its most elegant, like meeting like and dancing, ball gowns and glitter, ease and grace, style and opulent geld, this field is here, coming closer daily, and I am matching it.

 

As I inhabit this field, it can manifest. I keep getting that, and I want to write it, because that makes it more real. Also, I am aware that there are many who are having these sorts of dreams. I had correspondence with two other women who had had very similar dreams of mastery over Christmas Day night. Mine had been with the words accomplished, and a sense of completion. One friend heard “Mastery” I think, and the other had been told that she had mastered her life. This is real, guys, it’s happening, and maybe this field is what is calling us all, and these dreams are just interpretations of the light, just as Sam taught me this could be done. There is an essay called “My son Sam Demonstrates” that discusses this phenomenon.

 

I understand that this next part is as much about holding a vibration as it is about receiving this vibration’s gifts. And maybe being able to receive is the whole point. Having been conditioned to suspect and sniff around love, find fault with it and judge it unworthy, this too must change, to increase a life’s happiness. And this receiving, it has nothing to do with worth. Nothing. It has to do with fit, with acceptance, with smiling and relaxing and letting good come, and not finding fault with it. Taking the fall-back position of not only knowing I am a loving person, but that everyone I interact with is also loving. Some do things that make no sense, and they deny their great love, and so, they act badly, but they, too, are coming to me with love. Everyone is loving.

 

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

 

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

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