"Portal to the New Earth"
The Sacred Synchronicities
It’s particularly meaning to see the confluence of avatars of the Awakening that arrive at this particular event, each carrying their own fractal of the light codes that define the New Earth …
The Guardians of Gaia
It was good to see Kevala here. While we had never deeply interacted during my time in the City of Portals, I had always appreciated the fae elementalism that I felt around him. Kevala occurred for most often as an earth guardian, a steward of integration and community, a gatekeeper to the worlds within the world.
It was appropriate to see him, one of the gathered pantheon of avatars arriving to initiate the portal together.
They were the Earth Guardians to me, reborn druids and soothsayers, tribal matrons and ancient kings sharing a service of remembrance, gathered on the sacred land to terraform the consciousness for the brighter.
Walking the Rainbow Road
So much was happening. The energies of the gathered seeds were weaving new possibilities, and I had return once more to the lands where I had first discovered the Sword within the Stone.
A deep sense of grounding came to me then, a recognition of my place amongst the pantheon and the Great Work that I was doing with Into the Mythica.
In my stones and bone I felt her in that moment. The rainbow beneath the road, the bridge between the many worlds. I could feel the voice of the aina, the deva of the land and how the confluence of avatars in the space was part of a much larger thing.
As always, the deva reveal themselves through the photos at the right moment, bringing the subtle to the surface without the need for illustration. Such had been the principle of authenticity that had defined my photography for years, to simply witness was happened without modification.
The rainbow in the photo was a part of that, the way in which the deva of light made their presence known within the moment. Where I saw the outward reflection of my own inner journey along the rainbow beneath the road.
There was a sense of transformation, the phoenix of the self burning away to reveal a new form, a new aspect upon the lands of legend and her many characters.
Such was my purpose, after all. The nature of my character in the Great Story. A Worldwalker, able to see and move through the many realms along the rainbow road.
So much had shifted since I had first discovered Excalibur and pulled her from the stone. North had chosen to leave the Quest, and I had gained an apprentice in the form of Joshua, and was stepping into a new aspect of myself. I could feel the nature of my role moving through the space, held in remembrance in wielding the eye of the Dragon that is the sword of discernment in service to the Awakening.
For there was the surface of the world, where things seemed to be solid. Yet beneath this, in ethers of the akasha, everything was changing, and we lived in the ripples of our rainbow.
Weave of the Worlds
To see the pantheon of characters that we play in the Great Story is easy in such places, for the very land itself carries a remembrance.
I loved this so much. The respect, the genuine respect that radiated off of Bloom in the way he regarded others. It was a thing of such caring, of such integration with the tribes of the world, where beneath the surface of perception his energy as well as that of Keegan behind him, radiated in guardianship and grace.
Weaving the People
The deva play around Luke for a moment, and I See him, the ancient walker, the newborn Sun, his eyes kind with noble intent, the threads of his jacket the whispers of the people he so strove to serve.
We are those flickers, those shadows around the Fire. Shifting and changing with the shape of the land.
Invoking the Dawn
To make one’s way through the night until the dawn is a ritual in and of itself. A container of sacred time and effort that is provides transformation.
There is great magic in this, for it is the most basic of rituals, and there is power in the simple. The Earth turns her face from the Sun to embrace the Moon, dancing away in the endlessness of time. It is a thing more constant than human religions and traditions, made of the very substance of the prime world itself.
Lightning and Rainbows
We climb the rocks, feeling the aina of the wind and the stone. I can feel the tones of Hawai’i, of travelers in service to the islands shared within the space.
Invoking the Portal
Seeds of the World Tree
NOTE - IS THIS WHEN THIS HAPPENED IN THE TIMELINE?
It was arrangement that sang to me in that moment. The ways the sprouts and the new mothers gathered around the elder. There was a groundedness to my witnessing, where I recognized I was seeing the primal form of the human story. At the story of life, heard and lived across the landscapes of legend.
I am so proud of Luke in that moment, how he had stepped into an easement of his soul’s ordinance within the collective. The space of healing was genuine, the wings of an eagle wrapped in protection.
There was a sense of living on another octave then, of holding space from another position that I felt I was sharing with Samson