I succumb to old habits the night before, and awaken with less vitality and coherence. Recognizing my repeated error, agitation rises, which I move to shift internally through inner practices. And while it isn’t easy, there is a beautiful humility within it.
I don’t like it. It’s not my preference. Yet i’m willing to admit my own horizon of mystery and document the process as an example to others. Such was why I built out the adventure journals in the first place, to show the way in which we can change our inner landscape and see the change in our ‘outer’ manifestation.
See though I have the mystical facility to see and create the Mythica, this doesn’t mean I know everything. Peter, my character in the Great Story, has his challenges. While I have the enlightenment of knowing, ultimately, that I am not the self, not my character, there are still patterns within that form which need attending. Clearings and redemptions of the wounds within that self whose process defines the heroic journey.
It has always been about the grounding for me. About bringing the vast awareness of the Heavenly planes into the Earth. Traveling the realms of the akasha from the starlight of my origin to the Commonwealth, such that I may deliver the Gift.
I am so thankful for the temple. To have a space where I may at last drop into my form, where I do not feel as though I must constantly hold my position on the ground floor of a wandering sadhu.
For so long Yeshua and I have been working to manifest this thing, casting invocations and prayers on the ground level of survival to realms of more easement and sanctuary, where we could share the Mythica with the World.
Such was the challenge, to clear the lens of perception enough to track the inspirations that led to the more abundant reality. That made passage along the rainbow road to prosperity and sacred commerce in the Commonwealth.
To face the pressure of working to open the channels such that we may make the transition from the sands and sidewalks of homeless wanderwalk across the akasha has been difficult for us both.
While we recognize the virtue and value of the Mythica and our presentation, we found ourselves constantly working with subtle patterns that grant or hinder our access to the proper divination of how to get that idea out to the World and make that transition.
Like so much of the Quest, this demanded the facing of our relationship with the physics of the quest. Over the very real question of whether everything happened in right timing or not.
To be in a perpetual state of agitation over the basic necessities while simultaneously witnessing vast, vast grounding and expansion through the temple and my own embodied clarity is unbalanced. Agitating to the nervous system.
And while a part of me is reticent to share such things in my journal, I find such naked honesty is the very crucible of humility, the acceptance that we are all in it, each gifted with our own particular magics, working our way through the distortions from Heaven on Earth that must be cleared to step into the new paradigm. I’m not exempt from this. No matter our magics, we’re all being human together.
Able to breathe a little at last, the waters of my own akasha settle, and I find the stillness to go within. To invoke the softness and detachment from my self in order to work a remedy upon the subtle body.
I continue to receive the intuition that the healing of the long-standing wounds of the lower chakras is related to the manifestation of the finances needed to simply pay for sanctuary, a vehicle, and have a full larder … a thing connected deeply to the emotional qualities of feeling received, safe and secure, and both giving and receiving the resonant pleasures of connection in the Earth plane.
I feel a great leakage in the sexual energies. Brushing it with my mindseye, I sense sorrow, a feeling of being unmet, an assumption that I will not receive the Love that I wish to give in return and a despair at being denied the basic comforts of the human condition. Following the threads, I feel it move through my power center and that of the Heart, a sense of stoicism in the face of deep disappointment.
And I breathe. Invoking the Yin textures of receiving from the Creation while regarding my self from above. Listening.
Intentionally, I pull up the image of being recognized in my value. As I do, the areas in my body where the impressions that define this reside flare in response. Holding my inner asana, I send waves of forgiveness to the field, taking responsibility for my portion of the distortion upon the planet. As I do, gradually I feel the tensions dissolving, and I wonder what effect it shall have on my day.
The Perfection of Timing
Intent on getting the ask out to support the Mythica, I try to work the computer, yet a storm across the island blows the power. Hungry and without internet, Yeshua and I make way to the highway, intent on hitchhiking passage to Veg-Out, trusting the Divine circumstance.
It’s pouring on us as we wait for a ride, eventually being taken about 1/4 of the way where we stand and wait.
“It’s taking such a long time” Yeshua says, as we watch car after car pass by.
I shrug. “There’s got to be a reason.”
As we wait I’ve continue practicing the Yin magics. Of feeling the energies fall towards me, the gravity of receiving. Kiss of Shakti. It’s soothing. I feel it’s something my soul has been aching for. A rest from the endless Fire.
A few minutes later, a lovely woman picks us up. “You know, I never really pick up hitchhikers” she says. “Too many crazies. But something about the two of you said ‘perfectly safe’.
I grin and smile at her. The light of her essence an easy kindness.
“You’re like … you remind me of St. Francis” she says.
“I’m definitely something like that.”
We get to Veg-Out. Their powers out as well, yet Cindy can still organize us a burrito and a falafel plate. It’s a good thing, soothing the belly with the feeling of sustenance.
As we finish our food, I feel a brightness move into the room, resolving into a woman placing some cards on the poster board. The flier says ‘Rise in Love’. The energy intrigues me, scenting of the new tantras. Of warmth and connection and the soil of sovereignty.
I leave. And as I do, I see her standing by a jeep. We smile, and I introduce myself.
“Peter Fae? I’m happy to finally meet you. Dakota told me about you in 2016. In fact, I have a video of her telling me that around the fire with Cari Lila Star.”
Of course she does. Inwardly, I breathe in the textures of trust. Dropping once more into the faith that everything is working out properly. That we were denied the internet for a reason, obviously to meet this fellow avatar of the New World.
What happens next is a flurry of expansion. Of words and wonders, rhymes and natural music. The resonance of the feminine moves through the space, radiant in the expression of inclusion and integrity..
”We’ve been looking for something like this” says Lotus. “A place where Finn and other youth can learn the mystic arts. I’d love to see it happen, especially on a piece of land.”
I nod. “I hear that. Yet first, there had to be a temple in the Sky. In the ethers, such that all beings could visit from across the globe.”
We continue from there, the energy rising. I feel the Divine Feminine moving through me, influencing the style of my manifestation.
”I call it Womanifesting” Lotus says. “Feeling the energies coming into your body, into your womb space. Receiving.”
This is a sign to me, reinforcing the divinations i’ve had about changing my stance of approach. About the deep rest my body longs for. The Kiss of Shakti, matching the Gaze of Shiva spell that has defined so much of the Quest.
Talkstory continues after that, a thing of deep resonance, and a proof of the physics of the quest, that we meet the right people, embodying the most appropriate vibrations at the most appropriate time. In the confluence, I see so clearly why Yeshua and I waited so long on the roadway such that we could arrive in the right moment to encounter the Sattva’s.
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