I awaken in shadow, forgetting myself. A tight feeling in my chest pulls my attention, and I am out of the Brightlands. A fear, of having to return the car which we didn’t have the money to continue renting, and wondering yet again what actions Yeshua and I must take to get the Mythica out there and receive the recognition for the Gift we are bringing in service to the World.
It is an unsteady feeling. Yet I remind myself, we are HERE. In the temple. With the Mythica ready and just about to be marketed out into the World.
I do not doubt the Value. I have achieved the enlightenment, built out the network, proven the Quest in service to that which is larger than the self. At all points, despite what it seemed to a warbling viewpoint, God has provided. Seen from another vantage, we stand on the precipice of our own blossom, the documentation of our yogic movement through the planes a proof of the Great Story that unifies us all. We have not been able to receive the recognition fully and financially because we have not been out there, publishing the beacon of the Mythica and her yogic truths to the World.
In this manner I know the fear is as irrational in me as it is in Yeshua. I see that we are here, flush with the architecture built to sustain not only our Stories, but those of people all around the World, reminding us all that we live in a Friendly Universe, that we are all connected, and there is a way to come back Home.
It is not a rational fear. I tell myself this, even as I breathe into the anxiousness. The feeling-tone that I fear will affect that manifestation. It is a tightness that we both share having endured the many years of trial to get this far across the rainbow bridge.
Ripples move across my mindseye, reflecting the tightness within. A fear that the honest transparency of such things will cause my Readers to run away, as if the mere mention of doubt was anathema to their own Quest for groundedness. That for all the rhetoric around ‘vulnerability’ what they really want is an image. Of something perfect. Unquestioning. Inhuman.
Again, I know it isn’t real. I have no real idea what shall happen as we open the gates of the Mythica to the Worlds. Yet the question persists inside. Like Yeshua, I wish for it’s abeyance, for the seeds of Faith and experience to blossom through such foolishness. It is ironic, to have the attainment of Knowing and to still waver, yet such is the pathos of the thing, and beautiful for it, for it gives the contrast to the clarity of what is.
I take the car back, feeling anger moving through my system. Questions and reflections, little discernments that border on judgment before I reel them inward with a truer gaze.
Rides and Remembrance
As I drop off the vehicle, I try to get on the WIFI in order to tell Natural (Travis) where I am. In the flow, a lovely lady named Sasha offers me a ride, saying she is en route to Twin Falls.
It is an act of generosity, where we are able to share talkstory, and I am to tell her of the Mythica and the healing techniques of the Akasha Yoga. She had come recently from the eastern coastline of the Americas and had made a decision to stay an extra amount of time, to honour herself and her own value before returning to the winterlands.
As we drove, I moved the space of the akasha, forgetting the agitations of Shadow for a time. The gravity of the moment took me, and I shifted into a space of service. Of listening. Hearing her Story and the valiance of her recent decisions.
It was soothing. Abating the stormswept sensations.
Yet as she dropped me off, they returned, albeit less intense, more softened by the presence of the feminine. As I had many times before, I could feel the difference between the place of grievance with one’s perception of the Creation and that of harmony with the aina, reflected in the emerald voices of the land itself.
I continue my walk, occasionally turning my attention to the aina who radiates Love in response. “I know you love me” I tell Her, “I’m just angry about the conditions.”
Intentionally, I invoke the Akasha Yoga, moving waves of forgiveness through my form from the inner asana of unity. Knowing that I am only forgiving the aspects of my own self such that we may ALL be clearer in our essence of Love.
Rising up on the entrance to the Mandala Gardens, I come upon Yeshua. Immediately I sense he is doing the same thing, processing the grievance and frustration we know we must to have access to the inspiration and clarity for the publishing.
I have to smile. It was a heartening thing at it’s core. While I had both sympathy and empathy for what we were going through, we were stalwart in our fellowship. As we traveled, we traveled together, along the rainbow road, facing the shadows upon the way.
Back in the Brightlands
The rainbow bridge shifts on me later in the evening, bringing me back into the Brightlands. Exhausted from the inner process and the jaunt across Shadow, I fall asleep on the bed, dreaming my way back to clarity.
Intent on being in wielding with the invocation of the media, Yeshua and I do a video for the archives
A noise carries across the land, sending ripples of harmony across the akasha. Something is going on.
Curious, I make my way up to the main house, to discover a birthday party for the new resident of the teeny tiny temple (actual name. in relation to the tiny temple where I currently reside) and the presence of the many avatars of Mandala Gardens. Here, I encounter the akashic angel Jaclyn once more, sharing resonance as to her current Story.
Once more, Doctor Gromulus enters the field, willing to be witnessed in the iris of the Mythica. For this I am deeply thankful for encountering such characters on the Storyline defines the magical World.
In the Mythica, I see his aspect, his celestial consciousness catching the fluid architecture of the Mythica in deep appreciation. Repeatedly he thanks me, declaring that I have lived up to his expectation of an avatar.
This is a deep thing for me. It is a beautiful recognition, for I bow to him in return, recognizing that such a thing required HIS appearance on the Story.
After he leaves, inspiration moves through me. I feel the siddhi of Story, the verse and wonder of my tale expanding.
It is so flush. So thick with the authenticity of the moment. I have to open a portal so as to share it with the World. After all, that’s what I built the Myhica for ….
Share the Magick!