There are many forms of enlightenment. Knowledge in one area does not guarantee resolve across the board. Everyone goes through it. And while there is trepidation in revealing the process behind the prose, I feel it’s revelation is an act of valor.
I was terrified last night. Bad dreams. Tremors moving through my body. Trying to feel out what stance, what approach would garner the money to pay for the temple, the Mythica, and get us off the ground floor of begging for donations such that we may deliver the Gift more deeply to the World.
While I know the process is to hold the vibration of it already happening as best as I can, the fear of losing the sanctuary is thick.
In effort to divine the Answer, I apply the practice of clarifying one’s navigate of intuition through the body, experimenting with all manner of thoughts and intentions to feel my inner response. To feel the YES of right-movement towards our goal.
I try prayer. Recognizing that I AM the Divine itself, and feeling a bit foolish at feeling like I have to negotiate with my own essence. Following the current vogue, I do my best to envision the result as I wish it, yet I am distracted by the long-standing anger at being unmet.
It burns within me, constantly reminding me that I must accept and forgive all the ways in which I have been denied. Intentionally, I remind myself of the attainments gained through the relentless pressure upon my being and the denial of comfort for so long. How it has turned coal into diamond.
Intending to resolve this within the nervous system and thus gain more access to the inspiration from a friendly universe, I invoke forgiveness, applying it as a balm to the many faces which play across my mindseye.
I consider asking for donations, and am met by a tight feeling in my chest. A sinking of the Heart. Wondering whether our value will truly be seen and appreciated.
Trying another approach, I envision myself giving sessions of Akasha Yoga, giving $3,000 that we do not yet have to the land-steward, and my body breathes in deeply. This is the closest to a ‘YES’ that I’ve got and I take it.
Such is the assumption manifestation, that somehow the $3,000 will arrive in time through our efforts. As I continue to feel there is merit in asking for donations to this noble cause, I resolve to do both, to ask for support and to give sessions, for I am unsure if the inner sinking is a true navigate or simply the old patterns and their wounds.
As I do, a speech by Michael Beckwith comes to mind. Something about circumstances being emblematic of a condition, which I interpreted as the recognition that the Answer to your query lay within the circumstances, whether you see it or not.
Yet what was this Answer? What could I do to ease the ongoing discomfort and constant process of inner adjustment? To be flush at last, rooted and appreciated in the World?
Working to allay that inner disquiet, I remind myself that we have *just* finished construction of the Mythica and have only now been able to access the ideas for videos and b-roll such to show the people the magic in a way that is digestable and receivable.
That the temple has arrived in perfect timing, as well as super-fast ethernet, manifest from the penniless ground of a wandering sadhu through the Grace of God in the form of a donation by an ally we met in synchronicity.
The Sacred Walk
Knowing the vibration of such inner tension will not serve the Quest, I go for a walk, barefoot along the road, to commune with the aina.
The aina has always been there for me. Our Mother, the true essence from which we are made. All throughout the Quest, through the seemingly endless disappointments in human virtue, the deva (another word for aina) have been my most stalwart ally, reminding me of the deeper Divinity that lay beneath human folly.
An intuition bids me to turn around. Following the subtle call, I spin, making my way back up the road. On the way, I see a signpost. One that could not have been seen coming from the other direction. Upon it lay the glyph of the Gratitude Bear and a reminder on the Path to invoke gratitude once again.
Such symbols are the voice of the Land, speaking through her many forms. Breathing, I resolve my doubts and grievances as best I can, and invoke gratitude – for the Path, for the Quest, for the opportunity to bring this revelation to the people. To help them remember their way Home
It isn’t easy. The years of being unrecognized in my service, of asking for assistance and being given valueless facebook ‘likes’ and declarations of ‘sending love & light’ in lieu of money or anything that required real effort and commitment by the people weigh on me. Once more, I consider how off-point the sense of Value is in this World. How lost and confused are the people. I stop to touch the Green, drawing strength from Her essence once more.
Walking up the road, I encounter a vast pile of trash. A collection of plastic, bottles and other detritus sitting on Gaia’s skin.
It agitates me. With my fae senses, it feels like a burn upon my own self. A travesty of disrespect and ignorance. As I have many, many times before on the Quest, I begin picking up the trash. In the doing, I pick up a water bottle, proclaiming the ‘Menehune’ the Hawaiian word for the deva. A dark humor comes through me, that the sigil of the elementals of the land is discovered in a pile of human refuse.
It takes a bit of time. When I shift into this mode, every bit of trash on the Land radiates out to me, a beacon of red within the Green. My nose wrinkles in response. I can taste the energies of the people who carelessly allowed this to fall off their truck. Feel the burr in the flow of energy along the grass. As rain falls lightly upon me, I clean the mass of the thing, following my actions with meticulous scrutiny on the tiny bits of glass and plastic that remain.
As I do, the Land breathes once more. Within, I feel my own energies resolving, the detritus within my own nervous system clearing.
Such is the blessing that so many beings have forgotten. There is no separation. When we litter, we pollute ourselves. When we clean, we clean ourselves, allowing more Light to pass through our vessel.
The Elf and the Ent
I return to the tiny temple, showering the muck and mud from my being.
Regular showers are new to me. It is less of a hygiene thing and more of inner nature. My essence is feral, more accustomed to simply being in the rawness of What Is. The customs of the so-called civilized World are distant things, flotsam on the substance of a much more enduring forest.
Nonetheless, I have traveled far across the deserts of the Mythica to reach the temple, and I will be what I must to embody this new state of being. I am thankful as always to Yeshua for his embodiment of that aspect of the Divine and his patient holding of space as I learn the ways of the same “civilization” whose garbage I just cleaned.
As I leave the shower, I hear a conversation between him and our ally Kekoa. In which the value of the Mythica is once again being queried. While Yeshua does his best to explain we are reminding the people of that which they have forgotten and opening a portal to the magical World that lay beneath the trash of the old paradigm, I feel led to join the conversation.
Here, Kekoa kindly shares his Aspect with us once more, the recognition of his own celestial ancestry and it’s relationship of respect for those primal forces. With his permission, we open the talkstory, witnessing a video for the annals of the Mythica …
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