ASCENSION FIELD NOTES – THE YEAR OF THE HORSE BY KATHY VIK 2-2-14

ASCENSION FIELD NOTES – THE YEAR OF THE HORSE BY KATHY VIK 2-2-14

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I don’t know if this is true for you, but for me, the last week, maybe longer, I have found myself sitting quite still, from time to time, and I find myself holding my hands, stock still, thinking, and I am hit with something like tidal waves of information, awarenesses, re-framing of old information, and presentation of new. Have you had this? Something happens in your life, maybe small, insignificant, even, but, there you sit, suddenly unable to go forward, transfixed, sitting, aware, moving internally, a great push going on within, but on the outside, folks might think you’re trying to recover from a pulled muscle. Ha that been happening for you? It’s not all the time for me, obviously, but I have been overjoyed to have these experiences.

Yesterday, in the two hours I left myself for rest and sleep before my night shift, I had one of those experiences. It just kept coming, surging through me, and I was glad for it, I greeted and encouraged and reveled in it. I didn’t fret that I would be tired, I didn’t freak out for future calamity. I just rode it. And this is what I learned.

I had an experience in May, eight days when I was so completely suspended from “time,” from projecting into the future, and I was in a situation which made review or dwelling on or in the past was just nonsensical, and so, for eight days, I was suspended in timelessness. I felt completely supported, magically guided, and so freaking sparkly that just thinking on those days makes the air over here glittery.

And yet, in that peak experience I had, I realized, heard, knew, this is a gift. Enjoy this. Use it. I understood it was a template of sorts, and something I would be living within. That this was the goal, in fact, feeling this loved, supported, happy. And these days were spent in odd circumstances, caring for my dad’s girlfriend, while he had open heart surgery. They were days which, I suppose, could have been spent wearing a hair shirt, or avoiding responsibility, but there I was, feeling like, from moment to moment for eight days SOLID, I was on time, in the right place, doing everything perfectly. I was connected in a way I had not been, not for that long, without any dissonance. Overwhelmingly, I knew I was loved, and that I was love, and all was well. I knew it when there was no supporting evidence, and I smiled, was free, felt great, for those eight days.

I have scanned that time, and there is not an ounce of darkness in those days. Sure there was upset and topsy turvy things going on, people bickering and arguing and posturing, but, really, none of it mattered. I knew I was in the right place, at the right time, doing the right thing for me, and that is really all that mattered. It was a slam dunk, from where I stood.

So, on my bed, I thought on those days. I decided that I really needed to be honest with myself, get rid of any false thinking about that time. So I conjured up the other times I have felt like that. The only comparable experience I have had to those eight days were the road trips I have always loved to take. I remembered my last vacation, in June of 2012, to Vegas, and our trip later that summer to Chaco Canyon. These, too, are times which are highlights for me. I need to travel like other people need other stuff. I feel so good when I am road tripping, so good. Suspended between worlds, responsible only for this moment here, and this one, and this one, a string of moments I know I can play any way I want, and the only agenda I have is joy, relaxation, pleasure.

So, in bed, wanting to sleep and realizing it might not happen, I let myself travel through and around and then out of these experiences, trying to find a common thread, a way to describe the essence of magic these times emanate.

I realized that, just as my trip to Vegas, all my trips, are singular slices of experience which cannot, absolutely cannot be re-created, so were those eight days. The exact circumstances, they can never be reproduced. Ever. So it is incorrect to think that those moments can be used as a strict guideline for future joy construction. Instead, what I should do is to see what qualities were attractive, within the circumstances, and figure out just what generated and sustained it.

I realized that this idea of timelessness is very important to my well-being. I feel best, happiest, suspended from the past and the future. And I realized I had been in a situation, at my dad’s, when it was the purest, I guess, and actually became a bit of a survival technique, if I can use so crude a term to describe something so pretty. I realized that when everything was up in the air, unknown, in-my-face and unknown, I was the happiest of all. It was the most concentrated form of it. Funny, on road trips, this being hooked into the future also fades, and it is healing, but it was when I did not know where I’d be living the following week, not really, that I felt best.

So, I layed on my bed and gave it a whirl. Can I suspend these projections of the future? I felt fatigue, looking at the vast thing I have created with my thoughts about my future, my place here, my purpose, my raison d’etre. I could see it as a vast building, long and glistening, to one side of my awareness. It was blocky and brown and sort of sad. I realized that I had spent a lot of energy projecting forward, and I realized my projections had created a whole factory, but it was within my rights to just discard the factory. Let it go, walk on.

I then thought about how easy, relatively, it has become to let my past definitions of self and other fall from my awareness. I have a much different relationship with the past than I once did. More fond, in some ways, more neutral, really, and in the end, I have to tell you, more disinteresting than that factory.

And so, I layed on my bed, suspended. Without a past full of regret and confusion and loss, without a future in which I do and am and become very specific things, and, lying there between worlds, I felt that delicious freedom once again.

The Now Moment, it is a gem, a gift, as sturdy as a redwood, as meaningfully fragile as a butterfly’s wing, the Now, I understood, the Now is the point.

And then, there came the great ride, the push, when I suddenly understood, in a sort of rushing fun-house sort of way, that the future is completely unknown to me. I thought about the conclusion of my eight days taking care of my dad’s loved one. He, in his weakened and frightened state, knew of no other way to express himself than with hatred and anger. He was irrational, hostile, punitive, shaming, mocking, and he delighted in it. Within hours of him coming home from the hospital, I was expelled, kicked out, let go, fired, in the worst way. No thank you’s were said. It was all hatred and crazy talk.

And I realized, suspended and considering, that this was really, honestly, the only outcome I had never even considered. It was too impossible, too sick, to contemplate. It was not possible that anything but love would come from these great acts of love we all were experiencing in that house, for those eight days. And yet, that’s exactly what happened.

I understood, while neglecting my sleep, that it was a really really good thing I did not know the outcome of that adventure. Had I known that it would end so oddly, so shockingly, I would still have done it all, but there would have been a pall cast over things, a dread, maybe. Instead, I had felt excitement, and balance, and purpose, and great love. It would not have been entirely compassionate to have been let in on that bizarre turn of events, being driven from the house which supported and sheltered the three of us during those days of simple happinesses and each of us giving freely to the other, all those days. We lived in such love, those eight days.

I didn’t then go into other scenarios when my “luck” had been reversed, other betrayals. Instead, I had some epiphanies about the nature of this “future” we are all crashing headlong for, day to day. And, I began to understand, really get, that everybody is in charge of themselves, that this is my natural state, to be in this moment here, now, and none other. I survived and went on to forgive my dad’s behavior. Never the most steady person emotionally, he’d acted primally, basely, and what was there were wounds, fear, and nothing to resent, really, and nothing all that surprising or out of character.

Today, upon waking, it’s deeper, this understanding. I thought, last night on the way to work, that this central conundrum of mine of just not anticipating bad behavior, is not solved by studying others and then figuring out, algorithmically, their potential for craziness, of meanness, so that I can avoid it by outsmarting it.

Of course, outsmarting this sort of nonsense is sort of the point, but the idea, now for me, is not resting on the hope that one day I will understand others, that I will one day be able to heal or even tolerate their pain. Instead, it is in just letting everybody be, and not taking any of the punitive behavior to heart, in a way.

And this is what induced the last of these great swells of understanding I have had lately. I have come to understand that when someone demonstrates in no uncertain terms that they are so confused, so poorly wired, that they spin in drama, or rage, or victimization, it really is perfectly ok for me not to like it one bit.

That is where I left it before today’s nap. Let those who punish and shame and rage do their thing. Let them.

And that brings me to where I began, today, upon awakening. I guess I have begun to see that, just as I really really have no interest in being told by someone else, anyone else, what to think, how to behave, how to “do” my understanding of God and Self, neither do I want to have any interest in telling or showing anyone what to think, how to behave, or how to do their understanding of God or Self.

This is no longer from a false sense of humility. I am just now beginning to own some of my brilliance, and I am just not as willing as I once was to believe bad things about myself, or about others, to be honest.

This is another core thing being presented to me just now, that how someone acts in any given situation is just that. Not an indictment or improvement of character, but instead something that is between that person and their god.

And this brings me to the central theme of the essay. I can see how things have changed for me, but still, it is a slow thing, bringing all of this into clear, crisp alignment. It’s odd how my journal, my writing, to me, sometimes, just keeps repeating the same things over and over. But this, I think, speaks to the cumulative nature of these massive changes.

I realized today that these moments of transfiguration I have now, those moments when I am pulled into and then out of myself, traveling in thought and feeling, were unavailable a couple years ago.

When things started to shift and change for me, I would get a hit of sparkly light, a deeply profound event, like seeing the Eye of God in my living room, meeting up with a great white light in a casino, having the NDE’s, the meditations, the dreams, the experiences, these were highlights in an otherwise bleak terrain.

And as the months passed, I paid attention. I ground most other things to a halt, and just let the process play out. A year, year and a half ago, I had as my goal that I would go to work and not get so easily “knocked off my horse.” I wouldn’t let the pettiness, the creepiness, of some folks bring me down. I wouldn’t get knocked off the horse by dissonance, by falling short, by making mistakes. But, in the beginning, I would spend maybe one hour out of twelve feeling somewhat good, and the rest of the time feeling horrible about myself.

My willingness to abandon my known self in this work, slowing everything down and looking, feeling, understanding the themes playing out in my life, this had the effect of, cumulatively, getting me to this place, when I can spend twelve hours in highly conflicted and dark places, working with highly conflicted and dark folk, and I never get off my horse. Any knocks are cause for adjustment, not hospitalization. I am not getting knocked off my horse anymore.

I hope I am able to impress upon you what a big deal this is. Not getting knocked off my horse has been a goal of mine, a tangible outcome to me. And again and again, I am seeing, understanding, celebrating, that even the worst shock, even the very worst in human behavior, is unable to keep me off my horse.

I think this is what Kryon was referring to when they said that we have within us the ability to self correct, to find, achieve, balance, anytime, in any circumstance.

I guess when I started this process, what I had in front of me was too big to see whole, and yet, it was in the sparkly, overpowering moments of divinity and it was in the gentle, weird, nearly aimless road trips I love, that I was being given the lay of the land. Those big events, they are as much a part of my biology now as my puberty was forty years ago. I have just come from two years of spiritual or emotional puberty, but the idea had never been to enshrine the event, holding it up or putting it under lock and key in a case.

Just as the big crappy things that happened are not enshrined in a case of “Here’s all the reasons I hate life, and you,” there has been an integration. And through these months, these years of change, I have come to see that it is the sustaining of a different vibration, a different frequency, that remains key. I still have big moments, and am always open to having a corporeal experience of my god, but I can see now that those were huge downloads, and I really did not have the skill to sustain those hits, at first. The hits of light proved to me that love is real, that God is benevolence, that we love each other, above all else, we really do love each other. And then I got to have a whole bunch of experiences living alongside the new awareness, one at a time they came, one at a time they were integrated, and one at a time they had the same profoundly stilling effect on me. I woke up today understanding that the track I am on is a different color, and it happened gradually, incrementally, but it happened.

So today, I am feeling differently about “the future.” I used to hold up my vision of my future, then would look at my current life, and feel nothing but defeat, futility, and fatigue. The hits of light were, for many years, few and far between. And now, ever since late 2011, they’ve become real and true companions.

And now, this idea that I don’t have to worry about my future seems highly reasonable, the only thing that makes sense to deduce, actually. I can see today, more clearly than ever before, that I really have changed, I really have improved, and I was dedicated to these changes and improvements. Writing has helped me to refine my thoughts, and to let me examine things.

So I’ll tell you, to close, about what I was told during an NDE, something I have mentioned before, but still don’t have whole, so it needs to be brought up, here, to close. I was told that this experience is about coming to know my own energetic signature. That’s it. To know what is mine and what is others, and to act accordingly. To be able to know beyond a shadow of a doubt just exactly who and what I am, my signature, my essence.

The question has come up since, that if everyone has their own signature, what do I do about the ones who seem hell bent on making others suffer, those who belittle and manipulate and lie, who reach out from their swamp of hate and confusion and try to get me to dance with them. What about them?

And this is where it always begins and ends for me. I think it has to do with getting to the place where I stand convinced that what other people do has absolutely nothing to do with me personally. As such, I can put up with a lot of malarkey, I can forgive a lot. But there is more to life than fending off attack, figuring out how to cope with it, or wanting to teach the attacker the error of their ways.

What lies beyond it is no longer paying attention to it like it was applicable, like it was real. I know it is not good form for a spiritual writer to talk about how other people are dicks, but some people are dicks. You can give them golden, shiny choices in interaction, and again and again they head straight for being basically ineffective and miserable. What other words really truly fit someone who is convinced life is shit and no one loves them and everything’s life and death?

You see, after the Kryon event I attended, I had a core realization. I understood, crying while it came, that I can do nothing less than love those who suffer, and in their suffering make messes. How can I not, I repeated and repeated. How can I not feel anything but compassion for them? I was there. I know that mindset. I understand it fully. I was once there.

How can I not?

And this moves me from a place of aggravated though benign neglect of others’ pain to being willing to imagine that they too are fully capable of feeling less pain. Many who hurt appear to also be deaf and blind, but so did I, when I was in pain. No one ever got through to me by hating me. They got through to me by loving me. And how can I not love others, how can I not forgive others, and how can I not see that how they play things is how they choose to play them?

I think that this energetic signature thing comes down to realizing that I really really am fine. I am a loving, kind person who has a fascinating backstory, many talents, and certain personality traits, some of which still get in my way from time to time. Even at my worst, I never needed anyone to point out my faults. I knew all of them all too well. I needed forgiveness, to be held in high regards regardless, to be trusted and respected. This, to me, is my balm. And, if I can get to a place where I can hold this as my attitude toward others, how bad can life get for me, inside my own bio-suit?

I guess I see that I have found solace, comfort, peace, finally, and for me, it came from examining my thinking, my beliefs, my feeling states. It involved a boot camp of sorts, puzzling things out in camo, putting all my native abilities to the test, given new information and then testing it out, always testing it out.

I see that I am willing to own that I am happy, and that even though I cannot imagine, honestly, how things will play out in my life, I know that even if The Big One comes, the even which proves to me, shows me, demonstrates to me, that all my most closely held fears are real, like when my dad decided to hold a heart full of hate for me after I’d done him a solid, that even when the worst happens, I am intact, I am fine, I go on, I am fine. I’ll learn from it, and it may take me time to lick my wounds, sometimes, but I always get back into the groove.

Anymore, I just shrug, smile, laugh, actually, in the end, and then I pull myself back on the horse.

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