Its beatiful witnessing Kekua arriving in the synchrony of Mandala Gardens. Just yesterday we met on the path, sharing a vantage into the web beneath the worlds, after remarking on the shared resonance and providence of our meeting.
“I’ve seen it as a tapestry, with us as all these threads.” He says
“As have I, a web of golden threads that connects us all.” I reply, assuredly with a smile.
“Even just looking back, I see things come full circle. As above, so below.”
“Its this spiral that brings us to the divine lessons.”
He looks at me with eyes full of acknowledgement and a smile.
Its perfect, the unfoldment, yet again affirming the divine causality that links us all together in the Great Story.
Soon Peter arrives and we are all met at a crossroads, celestials in unison, down the brick wall the runs out from Mandala betwixt the jungle-brush to the backroads of northshore.
As we gather, its the sense of us as adventurers met in the flow of a larger current. The scent to the Aina billows, as the shared understanding of us as extensions of the land move through the field.
“In Hawai’i ancient lore, its spoken of the Aina, but we are the Aina.” Kekua says.
“This is exactly what we say in the Mythica!” Peter exclaims, “That is the deeper heritage that transcends culture and impermanence.”
“I’m like an Ent, a tree spirit.” He says.
“He’s like the storms,” I say, referring to Peter.
“This is why I made the Mythica, to honor our Aspects.” Peter chimes.
“We call it Earthrim,” I say with a smile, “Like Skyrim, but in real life.”
Hugging the edges of the jungle, I descend the path back to the Temple.
His girlfriend ends up bringing us food, which was perfect as we were at the last of our stores, wondering if we should hitch. He ends up paying for the entire meal, a reflection on his generosity and the support of a friendly universe. Yet further proof towards the question, “do things show up in perfect timing?” A divine affirmation, especially considering our absence of vehicle, while raising funds to keep the temple.
In the unfoldment of the next days, we encounter him with his steed to craft the landworks of a new pipeline.
“Its my Dragon, my sacred steed to do my good works.”
He shares his lore of how it came to be in his mythos.
Yet again the resonances of Gaian mycelium sparkle across my the nerve ends, shimmering into the space of the Akasha in a field of shared awareness. Its been quite a journey to get to this realm of affirmed collective consciousness.
As the rainbow emerges, I sense another portal across the bifrost opening.
Share the Magick!