2020 – July – Week IV


A newfound repose comes over me, filled with a sense of air, of spaciousness. Where I sense an opening across the akasha. A place for my words to come out more fully. It’s a sense of settling, the rain after the storm of depression and discomfort that has marked my last 48 hours.

I know what it is. It’s the feeling of having done enough on the architecture of the Mythica that my shape has changed. I’m in a new set of pranic conditions … a new set of coordinates in the space of the akasha. Privy to a new set of perspectives and applications. Where I feel another aspect of my self dawning, coming into alignment.

There’s an allowance. A sense of just letting myself do what i’ve wanted to do, to use story as a means of giving form and function to my awakening. Bringing the sword of the quill, forged at last into the online platform, to bear in right-service. Detailing the magic of Story to the Worlds.

It’s been a big shift. I’m still reeling from it. Still awash in the shifting depression, the olds wounds within the heart and home in relationship to the incarnate plane. Yet for this I bear a gratitude, for it is at least more authentic, more real and blood-true to the denial of such things, so real within our journey of remembrance.

And it’s epic, in it’s own way. In the underlands of the Mythica I see myself facing that same wound, that same misalignment with what must be done in this Age, still moving through the distortions on my own sense of wholeness and joy that have been my challenge all along my Story. Yet at the same time, I have come so far. Made it to the realm of the Commonwealth from the far places, the distant shores of the formless, at last able to express myself through the armature of the Mythica, providing a structure by which I could bring the gift of the mystical world across the veil.

In order to perform such a function, I had to forget. Had to be made of the same distortions as every other being across the planet, part of the much larger weave of events that make sup the Great Story. For all my protestations and grievances with the difficulty of the mission, I know it had to be this way in order to be where I am today. For the Mythica to be what she’s meant to be.

And it’s a new sensation. Where things feel different, in the subspace of the akasha. I feel my wings unfurling, and with that, shaking off the mud and sorrows that held them down a bit more, able to stretch into a new freedom of expression, to feel clarified in this missive, this journal of movement into the mystical worlds of the Mythica.

It’s been hard, to be what i’ve been. To play the character that i’ve played in the Great Story. While in the realest of ways i’ve gotten my wish, to live a magical story and share that with others, laying down breadcrumbs along the way such that they too may experience their own mythical world … it has also been exceedingly difficult, where the nature of my powers, that which created and maintained that mystical reality, has required everything to wield, demanding the facing of those all-too-human mysteries from an all-too-alien place..

But, like I said, i’m grateful. Genuinely happy. There’s rainbows in the rain. The Mythica’s built. Solid enough that I feel let off the leash of my own expectations such that I can write the things i’m writing now. There’s that gradual sense of acceptance, of bringing the heavenly aegis of my perspective into the earth plane. Where I can feel the walls of my own inner judgment softening, and with that, a deeper expression into the creative joy that can exist within the Earth plane.

Yeshua Lucis, Author of Into the Mythica

Yeshua comes to mind as I write this. Now off on his adventure with the priestess Xarissa, who he met at the Dragon Springs of Barton. How boldly and kindly he has embodied the yogic arts. How i have seen the aspect of God move through him in the perfect way for me to learn the lesson of it’s embodiment.

I could not have come this far without Yeshua. Without the fierceness of his devotion to liberation, his constant application of the practices necessary to bring about that fair alchemy. Such is the grand reminder, to me, that for all the prowess of my crown, it is and always has been my responsibility to bring that heaven to earth within my own self, to accept what it means to be human AND Divine simultaneously, and embody that healing within the collective.

It’s what I designed the Mythica for, after all. A way of righting ourselves through writing. Telling a truer Story than what we’ve been told. One that honours the journey of “being human”. That shows the magic that lay all around us and the alchemies required to get there.

This is where the vulnerability comes in. The valour of writing, of being honest in a way that is remembered.

Truth told, I’m not always comfortable talking about my own challenges. About recognizing my own aspect as a teacher and also what i’m still resolving on my own human journey. It was only in 2016, during “The Ark” episode of the Journey Home that I accepted the mantle, and even then on the insistence of Grandmother Ayahuasca, where soon after that Yeshua appeared in the field, bringing the sacredness of student and teacher into my realm of experience.

Part of it’s a self-judgment, as sinful as that is. Where I expect too much out of myself, that I be “perfect” in my expression before sharing what I have learned along the journey, while another is the still-resolving question of whether what I have to offer will be heard, or if I will be unable to transmit what I have learned along my journey back to the people.

It’s folly, I know, and I remind myself of the achievements made, feeling the echo of my words move through the armature of the online temple, hearing the resonances across the etheric architecture and their harmony through the subspace of the akasha. I am literally living in proof-of-concept, presenting that mystical Story in a network designed to show the Great Story and the physics of the mystical world. I feel the Story unfolding, presenting itself in right-form, manifesting through this very journal and it’s publication through the streams of Mythos and out across the world, and this is reminder enough for the day.


Things change in the dusk hours and beyond. The qualities of the akasha move, changing the pranic conditions. The shape changes, and with it, point of view. There’s a deep sacredness to it for me, a place of refuge from the hammering activation of the solar energies where I can soften, relax more into the darksweet of my own musk. I change in these times, and the world changes around me.

I see it in my writing, feeling that changing sensation across my sense of self. Beckoning me forward into a deeper caress, a deeper embrace of the sensual and the revealed. It is the call of my own Feminine aspect, heard through the easing gravity of the Mythica’s architecture.

It is a beautiful thing. For when I am deeper in this aspect, I feel Her royalty moving through me. Changing the gravity of who i’m being. I witness myself flowing, changing with the tides of that remembrance. Sweeter, made of ripeness and free. I smile, such is the aspect I love so deep, that which plays in the reflections of outside lovers, yet always sits within, waiting beneath the prow of an opening heart.

Such is the nature of the magic, of course. The shift between states of being that sets the coordinates for our personal reality. The shape of our Story and Song, dancing it’s way across the rippling dream. We must become the thing we wish to be, for it is only when we change within that the world changes without.

In this I know I must become what I feel is my truest essence. Become more mindful, more devotional, more in recognition of who I have been and what I am becoming. Such is my catharsis, the alchemy of change that is the Quest itself, which, despite the tiredness in my limbs in this moment, is not over. As the famous line by Robert Frost –

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.

The Quest is not over. Not by a long shot. I am tired, yes. Tired of walking the line between Divinity and distortion. I wish to be free of these patterns, these ways of being that have defined the realities I have moved between. To be liberated from the past shape of myself, making my way deeper along the octaves of the rainbow road.

This means work. Pure and simple. Changing the subconscious patterns which are as-yet-unresolved. Facing the challenge with a smile as best as I can, reminding myself of the many victories I have had along the way. It’s a thing I have to do, that I need to do, to remind me when I forget. When I expect too much out of myself and cannot hold compassion for what still longs to be redeemed.

I know my writing it I transform it. Bringing my attention into the moment and clarifying me into being. I do not have to be the way I have been, I tell myself, and I breathe. Shifting the space in the process. In response, I feel my magic blossoming within, remembrance flooding my being. I feel the sensations expand, and recognize that i’ve shifted, just so much, deeper into the Mythica. Into the version of myself that is more settled, more grounded, more in adoration of what is.

The writing is the key to the healing. I’m sure of it.


The Root Chakra

My body and mind are still reeling with thick and muddy emotions as I push myself out of bed and set the intention to listen to the Superbetter book suggested by Yeshua and implement the approach into the journey through the Mythica. Despite the rages and sorrows moving through my form and the vast feeling of disempowerment from the olde wound, of being imprisoned and railroaded by God’s Will into the Earth plane, I start setting the field, considering how I can create glyphs for actions that I can take to heal the wounds created simply by me being born into this Age, where every action is heavy and difficult, requiring the pushing through the mud of the unblossomed lotus of awareness which defines humanities troubles.

Such is the nature of the journey. It is a thing from which no one is exempt, for it is the very structure of what it means to “be human” at this time. It is the thing that defines the journey to a New World, the movement from the distorted patterns that have created the old paradigm into the new, working the alchemies of transformation along the timeline of our shared journeys.

Looking at the Spellwork

It is not lost on me that such relates to the core intention of Into the Mythica, to provide a way of seeing our journey to the New World as the adventure that it can be, identifying the nature of the challenges we face along the way and the ways we can surmount them to embody the highest version of ourselves. Such is the reason why I constructed the maps of the landscapes of legend as I saw them, why I taught Yeshua the Yoga of Story, and why I continue this journal, revealing the intricacies of the all-too-human process of transformation that defines our journey to wholeness.

Left Image
Right Image

Intentionally, I investigate the aka threads of the Mythica construct, seeing the folds and vertices of her gravity, how the invocation is designed to provide a context for the magical journey. Such is the structural shape of the intention, the subtle framework that manifests on the surface plane as an online website and the Mythos Academy.

From this vantage, the Superbetter concept by Jane McConigal is made of the same thing, the same pattern in the akasha – that of finding a way to work with what it takes to be human in this Age. To learn how to manage one’s electromagnetic field in response to the trauma and difficulty that is inherent on the Quest. Such was woven into the initial spellwork of the Mythica so many years ago, as I worked to create a way of journaling one’s adventure, applying the practices, and changing one’s reality. That it appears Now, in this synchronicity of timing, feels to be an affirmation from the Friendly Universe, a manifestation occurring within the field of my experience that is meant to help me along with the process of healing.

It’s a thing that I deeply appreciate and resent, for as the root chakra issue continues to heal within the Temple of the Sacred Mirror, I come face to face with the feeling of isolation and difference that has defined my journey through the higher octaves of human perception, where I have felt little resonance amongst the people for the nature of my unique challenges and the trauma that has defined my journey of healing. Here I see the basis for my own reticence to engage in intimacy with humans, where I have been deeply resistant to the pushing intentions of “coaches” and other beings presuming wisdom, where I simply have not felt met in vibrational camaraderie by many save a select few such as Yeshua, Misty, Bloom and others, along the Quest.

The Soothing Sanctuary

Misty Odom

I am honored by them. The radiance of Love that I feel from Misty, from Yeshua and others is a soothing balm to the nearly constant agitation i’ve experienced due to the wounds I suffered upon descending to this plane. Yet such healing only brings to clarity what I must do, reminding me that while I have allies that support my efforts on the journey, it is up to me, and me alone, to heal the wounds of incarnation into this Age.

In this I have the deepest appreciation for Misty, recognizing her aspect as a goddess of hearth and home (among other things). Without her kindness, without the patience and perseverance she is held for the resolution of the wound in my root chakra and the trauma so deep that I could not even see its implications in any consistent way, I would not be where I am now… On the verge of finally finding a way to connect with the human world. In this, I feel her presence, above and beyond our personal dynamic, is one of healing from the war with the human condition, and her sanctuary, the Temple of the Sacred Mirror, a bastion of healing on the long road home.

The Archetype of the Temple

I know it is difficult for her. That she moves through her own shadows and tremors, yet I can only help her in so far as I help myself.  With each layer of the trauma unfolding, I come to See that I must heal, I must anchor myself at last, or I shall be of no use to her or anyone else.

And it is difficult. It is difficult to See through the resolving distortions upon my mindseye. To recognize that I cannot trust my feelings and responses, for they are marred by the as-yet and resolving wounds with in my soma.  It is difficult, yet it is what it is. To be moving through the patterns that I am moving through now is the resolution of nearly half a century of perpetual suffering within the human condition, where I feel myself crossing the threshold into the Commonwealth, into a place where my gifts may finally be received and the wounds of isolation healed at last. In comparison to this necessity of survival, all other things pale, no matter their beauty.  I must heal. I must face this distortion once and for all.    I must have a relationship with the earth plane before I have a relationship with anything else.

Yeshua Lucis

The trauma feels so real. Even though I know it is but a memory, still it clings to me, it’s ichor and stain on my heart only now coming to consistent clarity. Such is the challenge where, even now, agitations move through my chest and root, where repeated imaginings of confrontations with the vibrations of human beings re-create traumas that aren’t even existing in the moment. I’m reminded of the many times I had counseled Yeshua when he felt such things moving through his form along the Quest, and how his example has defined the process of that acceptance and perseverance of applied practices, teaching me as I was teaching him the nature of what it means to human. From Yeshua then I must draw my reflection, bow to the quality of consciousness that moves through his form, just as he has bowed to that which moves through me.

There is a sacredness to it. To my relationship with both these fine avatars on my Path. Where I see them, not as they appear in the shallows of the surface plane, but more deeply as the avatars they are, each embodying patterns within the Earth plane that I must ingest if I am to make my way forward, past the cycles of repetitive stress that still linger in my inner world.


Quest – The Healing Journey

The Wound – Repeated

The process of healing is intense. Bringing up the resentment i’ve felt for so long, the feeling simultaneous exaltation and disempowerment, where my life has not yet manifested that which inspires me and fills my heart. Where I feel as though I have been waiting, or to say a part of me has been waiting, endlessly trying and becoming frustrated and then demanded to patience, acceptance and “surrender to God’s timing” regarding what I feel, in my heart of hearts, to be the great Gift that I have come to offer to the world. The teaching that my life was created for, to help the people see the underlying patterns of their consciousness and the world that we live within. To provide all of us with a larger framework, a view of the akasha, the context for all of our lives, and the intrinsic connection we have to the planet on which we live.

Yet for all of that high intent, the road to that creation has been so difficult, in a way that I have never felt a real resonance with amongst the peoples of the planet, where I have felt isolated and unreceived, reacted to and rejected, dealing with the vastness of the awareness that is part of God’s design for my life.

A few minutes ago, Misty, in her loving and enduring way, offered to share some of the teachings that she’s learning from a mastermind group on marketing yourself. As she spoke, the frustration that i’ve felt for the past decades rose up, more clearly and sharply distinct than ever, where, through the clarity gained through the nigh-endless journey across the Earth plane is able to discern and distinguish, allowing me a new and fresh perspective on the hurt.

Such is a good thing, in it’s manner, for my journey through the mortal plane has been nothing but a gradual movement into coherence, into managing the gift of my awareness within the toxic distortions of this place. Yet in this clarity is also the frustration, for I see how, over time, it has always been the same issue, the same frustration, the same feeling. A sense of weariness comes over me, where deep resentments at even being in the human condition, at having to tolerate and endure the vibrational distortions and dim octaves of this plane mix in with the burning reality that clearing through that very thing IS the bodhisattvic service by which I descended into the Incarnate in the first place.

Here, everything pushes to the surface, carrying with it the muck and mire of those as-yet-unresolved emotions, bleeding in emotional spurts through the razored beartrap of my understanding – that deep recognition of the humanity in what i’m going through and the Divinity that sets my role within that ongoing play.

I have to go through it. I know this. The devic aspect of my character sees it, a perfection of elements moving through the substance of the akasha playing out as a series of psycho-emotional divinations and experiences through the mindseye of my human form. Of my self, and it’s relationship to other selves within the ocean of our shared substance. There is a clarity, ever-growing, of the dharmic nature of my incarnation, of being both Divine and human, of having access to that siddhic, exalted perspective while pushing and bleeding my way through the emotional nightmare that has been the Earth plane. In that mystical overseeing, I recognize how the events of my Story, of all the interactions and emotions and perceptions that I have been and seen across the timeline, has served a purpose – To show me the nature of being human, such that I could share that with the worlds. In the end, everything is about that thing. About the Divine inspiration that moved through me, defining my life. To illuminate the journey.

That’s why it’s not always pretty. Of course, i’m deeply aware of the electromagnetics of gratitude, of focusing on the positivity as a means of easing the agitation in the nervous system, of the constant, constant … *constant* clearing that has to be done to clear up the toxic impressions in this Age of humanity. Yet within this, there is also the authenticity. Life is not always pretty. Sometimes, we’re laughing, tan-chested and fine-hewn in the tropical islands. Other times we’re dying, torn and ragged by the inevitability of time. Sometimes we’re bright, full of poise and presence. Others, we’re moving through the quagmire of our own emotional clearing. Such is why I share photos of myself, almost fifty years into the Incarnate plane under the pressure, as much as I would share the magic and excellence that arrives. Such is my definition of authenticity, for let’s face it, we’re all being human.

Besides, it’s not like I have a choice. It’s only now, after nearly twenty years of journey building the Mythica, that i’m actually coherent enough, balanced enough between the Heaven and Earth within, that I can even express myself. Where the architecture i’ve labored so long to build supports my expression and that of the others who have recognized the value, the Gift of Revelation, that has taken so long to create.

Heart Chakra

have to write it out. Have to express, to myself, through the platform I designed to share our Stories, such that I can step into the next embodiment of myself. So that I can heal the chasm between my Earth and Sky at last, and fully embody into the mortal plane. Of course, this is my journal, and meant for those who wish to see the minutia of the Path as she occurs for me. I’ll write the Courses, build out the videos and the teachings as is my right-function … yet part of that, part of what I consider the noblesse oblige , the responsibility of nobility to others, which by my measure is sharing the actual Story, the real movement between the states of being that define our many realities, told in poetry and prose to honour, as much as I have come at times to revile it, the human journey.

I know that can be difficult for some people to hear. Who may have an expectation that a spiritual text would speak of anything but Love for the Creation, who would put any energy towards the discontent and dissatisfaction of being rather than a constant willful invocation of gratitude or other modifiers to one’s emotional state as a life strategy. Yet as I said, while I understand these things and will speak about them as this deep part of the healing unfolds, there is a requirement of revealing the many aspects of that much larger thing, that play of emotions and resolutions that defines our shared human condition.

Rancor and Repetition – The Dirge of Drama

As I write this, I remember. This is not the first time i’ve said these things. In fact, it’s not the thousandth time i’ve said them. Rather, it’s the same repetition, the same trauma, the same disturbing emotions, that have plagued me all throughout my life. Such is the very thing i’ve striven to heal, trying to make sense of the human condition from a place of innocence and ignorance.

It is not easy to be an avatar of the akasha. To step into the human plane for the first time, with no previous knowledge of what it takes to be human. Add to that the blistering distortions that have defined the changing Age, where each of us is required, simply by virtue of the mechanics of the human condition, to do nigh-endless work to return to the place where we started, the unified field of transcendent Oneness and bliss that is the true enlightenment. The liberation from the patterns that define the mortal plane and it’s repetitions. It is the end of the game, the true goal, the thing which gives context to everything else.

know this. Yet it is a hard-earned knowing, one gained through my own unique journey.. It is not a thing that comes from the “traditions” and “lineages” of the mortal plane, for such things are alien to me, far and distant from the devic construction of my form. Like most of the mortal plane, a pattern, a shred of the Great Song, repeating it’s chorus across the canvas of the Akasha, a droplet in the infinite vastness of that Divine Mind.

Sometimes it’s interesting. Other times, not so much. Like the songs of this realm, it repeats, over and over again, playing out in the myriad of relationships that define our stories. Such are the iterations of the mortal plane, ripples of sound across the subtle oceans of the akasha, unseen through the haze of incoherent distortion that gives the unrealized state of being it’s very definition.

It shouldn’t be misunderstood, when I refer to myself as an akashic avatar. I do not speak from a place of pretension but one of bright intent in frustration.

… I wanted to help so much. For so long. Doing so much work, with whatever access I had to my Divine aspect, sloughing my way through the mud of the human plane. Fighting the neverending battle for clarity against the veil of distortions and amnesia that prevents human beings from accessing the infinite abundance that sits around us all. For nearly half a century i’ve done my best to make my way through this alien place, this place of dim light, of density and confusion where every moment jars the self with the reality of it’s separation from who it really is, and every day is another fight to manage the alchemies of frustration and surrender to a celestial timing far beyond my limited grasp.

Of course, the true depth of the difficulty cannot be seen by most beings, for, quite simply, it isn’t where they are at. Meaning, it’s not the state of being that they normally exist in, though it does exist within them beneath the shifting detritus of the unrealized state. Consequently, though the party line is about “compassion” by one transient standard or another, I have never really felt like real compassion, or better yet, real resolution, was there for me. That I had to make my way through the nightmare landscapes of the Shadowlands, finding my path across the underlands of the Mythica alone, with no family that truly received me. Where my very nature, the very Divine spark that defines my character in the Great Story, left me isolated, living in a world far removed from what most humans considered their reality. Where I had to fend for myself in the shattered places of confusion, making my way through an alien and seemingly hostile world.

Here, like so many others within the human plane, my brightest essence was trapped beneath the rubble of trauma and tremors, demanded to go on a journey of healing that has lasted my entire life.

This by itself is difficult, and is a thing shared by many. Yet for me there was an added difficulty. Not simply the shreds of access that I still possessed from the Homelands upon descending into the mortal plane, but the rarity of that awareness in the context of the human world. What it meant to be an incarnate deva amongst the forgotten.

And I have hated it here. There has been so much suffering, as much as it has been a deeply magical experience. To have to wade through such incoherence, to have to endure so many emotional trials within and without, has been a grand and arduous task. And while I have the jewels of that forging to share with the people, my heart feels broken, disgusted with the nature of the process of being human on it’s most fundamental levels, a grievance that lay beneath any and all practices of transformation to remedy it’s effect, for no matter what we do, whether it is meditation or plant medicine, whether traumatic release or transcendent re-programming of the subconscious patterns that define our current self, the game is always the same, the same repetitions, the same conversations, the same waiting game of revelation and effort to correct the wounds created simply by incarnating into this Age.

Crown Chakra

Such reminds me of something I heard the spiritual teacher Sadhguru say regarding the crown chakra. I’m paraphrasing, yet what he spoke about related to what one can experience when their crown chakra is exalted. That they must cultivate a sense of sweetness towards the unfoldment of events, else they will get agitated or bored. I know in my case this is deeply, deeply true, as I witness the play of human process and our relationships like watching an out-of-focus rerun of a show I never particularly enjoyed in the first place, the lines of causality moving through the substance of the akasha to form an endless array of dramas and resolutions within a world of supporting characters all enduring the same repetitive process.

As much as i’d like to say i’m free from that, I can’t even claim that separation, for simply being made of the substance of the akasha at this time guarantees that you’re going to have a similar experience, one of gradually clarifying coherence across that seemingly endless repetition of resolving trauma leading back to the original trauma, the separation from the Oneness that is our true essence. In this I recognize another wisdom from that same avatar, that we can be happy or we can be miserable with the human experience, depending on how we work the chemistry within our form. It is here, in my own avatar-aspect, that I see the essence of the human journey, our psychoemotional patterns of our stories reduced to an ideal of inner alchemy, the changing of our emotional state towards the Divine unfoldment our only option to face the frustrations, boredom and disappointment of clearing our portion of the distortion that afflicts us all, obscuring our view of a brighter world.

The Positivity Push

And I have resented this. Resented simply being in a circumstance where the very nature of existence requires constant effort. Where conditions exist that feel horrible and disconnected, and the only solution is to “be positive”, to actively be mindful and approach the corrupted feelings within the self as a remedy of being alive.

I don’t like being forced to be positive when i’m frustrated. That for all the magics of my life, I have felt demanded into endless acceptance, surrender and forgiveness with no real choice.

If I had not been so innocent, so trusting, so expectant of effortlessness in what I saw so clearly as a shared dharma, a shared and sacred life-purpose between my self and the beings who I longed to honour so deeply on the Quest, perhaps I would not have been so crestfallen. So surprised. But, like I said, the human condition is new to me. My nature didn’t come with the patterns of acceptance, the lack of awareness that things could be better, or even the basic understanding that here, as Divinity being human in this Age, the very air that we breathe , the foods that we eat, the programs on the media and the people we engage with are damaged, toxified, traumatized and confused, all striving to make peace with living in the wasteland that was once the Garden.

If things had been different, if there had been more love, more appreciation, more resonance, if there had been more fellowship, more harmony and more access, I would feel completely different. Yet such has been the challenge of my journey to coherence, one that continues to this day, where as much as I wish I were writing more about the magic that I have experienced, the only thing I have access to in this moment is this, and I am be grateful, as a strategy of opening, for even that.

Like I said, i’m no stranger to the reality of practices to change one’s attitude towards What Is, it’s the necessity of it that irks me. The constant push to invoke gratitude or shift one’s inner alchemies to deal with the frustration. To be thankful for being in a prison. Nor is it lost on me that I have had happy and expansive experiences, that there has been joy in my life and deep, deep magic. That I am blessed, in that quizzical unfolding way, to hold one of the keystones to the New World. Such awareness is not excluded from my distaste for the longstanding process. In fact, it’s what makes the lack of reception so much worse. Where I have been so disappointed, so frustrated, so continually hammered by the Universe simply to make it this far that I find it hard to be grateful for the opportunity to suffer.


I find myself witnessing Misty, first thing in the morning. Where after the crash and tumble of frustration and grievance that moved through me the day before I experienced an opening. A place of more access to the light that moves from within, and in this, I watched my focus change, listening to the Divinity that comes through her blessed form.

Glyph of the Elder Scrolls

Like all things, it happened through the Akasha at a confluence of events. Having written all morning, I was playing Elder Scrolls, thick with the energy of the bardic. I had just applied to a guild of roleplayers, an act which triggered a remembrance of the joy and fulfillment I found in the writing and living of the mystical journey. Of how i’d chosen to leave the world of roleplaying decades ago to live more of an embodied magical life.

This is particular magic, with me, for it was the roleplaying world that first inspired my love of the real magic, providing the framework for my leaving New York city in 2002 to go on the journey deeper into the Mythica, deeper into the real magical world.

And everything is a divination. In the game, I had arrived in a realm in that online world where there were vast pods, created by the Wood Elves, grown from the trees. It was a thing I knew Misty would appreciate, so I called her over to share.

(Image collected from Elder Scrolls)

“Yes. YES.” she says. “That’s just how I saw things in my vision. Houses, grown from trees.” A wave of vibration moves through her then, rippling across the akasha. I sense a deeper gravity to the moment, a movement of consciousness that looked, on the surface of perception, as my arrival in the Grahtwood of the Elder Scrolls universe, yet was, in the subtle planes of our unfolding experience, something deeper.

“Totally’ I say. “And where does that resonance come from?”

She pauses. Her out-breath is like leaves falling, reminding me of the times and places when we have shifted deeper into the Mythica together, able to see the Aspects of the Divine that push through us into the mortal plane.

“The Akasha”, she answers, and I nod.

Such was the magic. The quality of unfoldment, the moments in which something appears in the field of our perception and it inspires a moment of remembrance.

It can come in any form. Through a vision received in deep meditation, through a casual statement made by a friend, through the articulate designs of a video game. What matters is not the shifting outer form of the divination, but what it inspires, what it triggers within.

I felt her, in that moment. Felt the Goddess that embodied itself as her. The deeper archetypcal energies that defined Misty’s place and purpose in the world. Felt the driving force beneath her desire to help the people, to share with them what she remembers about the Great Trees and what how that re-orientation changes our electromagnetics such that we may live more properly aligned with the nature of nature

Misty Odom – Lady of the Trees

It was a thing seen, in the Mythica. In the mystical octave of reality, where what we look like on the surface of perception is but the tip of the iceberg, a portal to a vast depth of essence and meaning that lay beneath. From where I stood in that moment, I felt the magic of her essence. The gravity and poise, the gentle thunder and ancient knowing that gave rise to her excellence of the healing and divinatory arts. To the real magic that lay within her, always.

In so many ways, Misty’s aspect complements my own, her Earth matching my Sky, each of our essences inspiring it’s balance in the other. Such is the nature of our union Divine balance, the ways in which we reflect and inspire the wholeness in the space between.

Among her many virtues, Misty holds the tones of devotion and discipline in the mystic practices of this plane. Like Yeshua, she reminds me that for all my angelic nature, I am not exempt from the practices necessary to transform consciousness. Even more, her kindness and fierce compassion are a balm to me, holding space for the healing going on even as I write this missive, soothing the resolving wounds of my entry into the material plane.

Such is the same with all things. It’s the secret of the magic, that it’s always around us, all the time, manifesting through the stories we tell to each other, through the characters that we play in the Great Story, the archetypes that embody themselves through us and the way in which we move through the worlds.

Late Night Revelations

[s3mm type=”video” files=”From the Quest/tjh-2020/2020-7/2020-7-28 – FTQ (2am).mp4″ /]


The War with God

Certain things clarify, as I continue to journal the adventure, feeling the vibrations within my self and the state of being that I have been living within. There is a sense of healing mixed with ignorance and a deep-seated resentment, all working together to create the conditions that have defined my life up till this point.

As I scrawl this into this mystical journal of awakening, it should be noted – this is not a new revelation. It is instead a repeated revelation that shows it’s face in the moments when the clouds part and I have the coherence to see more deeply into the underlying patterns that have defined my experience of the mortal plane, where I see once again how deeply traumatized i’ve been simply by incarnating into this place, and how the rarity of my perspective and Divine design has given rise to the circumstances of my life, the Mythica, and the purpose for which I descended into the human form.

It is truly amazing, to have gotten to this point. I know I write about it repeatedly, yet simply being able to express myself, to be able to phrase my words in a coherent way inside the architecture of the Mythica is a Major Achievement. A beautiful sense of cohesion which carries with it both expansion and a clarified resentment of how difficult it has been.

I know it’s a temporary thing. That’s it’s part of the grand healing provided by the Divine in this Temple of the Sacred Mirror, where I have been met by the Goddess that is being Misty and am gradually unraveling the deep confusion and trauma from coming to the Earth plane, the ongoing suffering which has resulted in a longstanding hatred and mistrust of God on the deepest of levels.

It is the alien nature of this plane that really does it for me. The constant work, the intrinsic trauma, the repetitions and the mundanity, the”holding of space” and the necessity of “compassion”, while negotiating the fundamental incoherence and distortion that has wounded me all these years. Given that same nature, i’m not used to it. In this, the same quality that gives me that access to the Akasha and the deeper interweaving of Gaia is so heavenly, so celestial, that my understanding and “dropping in” to the Earth plane is a deeply strange experience. So much so that the phrase “let’s all drop in” I hear in yoga classes and from so-called teachers feels strange and distant, like it doesn’t quite *land*.

From my perspective, the various assumptions of definition that exist in the spiritual world are questionable at best, related to my innocent perception of “Why is the self”, as in, what is the purpose of self-identity itself in the context of our shared unfoldment. Where I question the widespread use of the word ‘ego’ and the attendant feeling of distortion I feel underneath it.

Such brings the core interpretation of the yogic arts by the mainstream (and sidestream) into question. For example, from my vantage, the ‘ego’ is simply the sense of unique personality itself. It’s a shape, shimmering in the akasha. One that changes from moment to moment according to the tides of that universal ocean. When I hear most humans say the word ‘ego’, it feels like they’re referring to the wounds of the self, the distortions and incoherence that denies them access to their highest potential embodiment. In such a phrasing, it’s not the ‘ego’ they’re wanting to dissolve, it’s the trauma.

(my self seen through the Mythica during the “Magician’s Oasis” episode of 2018)

This is just one of the many ways in which my perspective feels alien to the world. Where I haven’t felt the resonance with the people and their transient ideas (also just shapes in the akasha). I find that I exist in a place transcendent of many of the polarities of perspective, considering things from a basic position of whether or not they feel good to me, and then questioning how much trauma or authenticity lay in that reaction. Mine is a different perspective, one free from so many of the assumptions that make up the current Age of humanity.

I have not enjoyed it. It has been exceedingly difficult. To be in this moment in time, where I have achieved so much healing and STILL have more to do, when I have finally gotten the Mythica clarified enough to present my writing through and STILL have more healing to do, where I am expected to ‘hold space” for others while feeling a lack of ability for beings to have compassion for me (demanding I find it within myself, yet another key component of the Earth plane that I was unaware of before I came here). Such things have not endeared me to God. In fact, much of my journey has been me reconciling a quizzical Jekyll & Hyde relationship with the Divine based on this very thing.

It’s ironic, because I also recognize myself as an avatar of God and a servant of that larger thing. Yet, as i’ve mentioned before, such is the splinter, the shattering of my joy and trust in the Universe that has defined the entire journey of healing – where I both recognize my own attainments and natural Grace and struggle with the necessity of healing the wounds created by God in the first place.

(A reminder of God’s Goodness from the 2016 “God Loves You” episode of the Journey Home)

There has been so much anger towards God. So much frustration with the necessity of challenge in this place. So much disappointment with the lacking nobility of the people. Proving that God was Good despite everything we have to endure in the human condition has been one of the greatest trials & treasures along the Quest. And while I have seen God’s Goodness repeatedly, still the trauma and grievance remains.

I know it’s necessary. With what remains of my powers after landing in this dim octave of the Creation, I see the greater tapestry … how i’ve had to understand what it means to be human, to channel the new yogas from that vantage of devic and human intermingling, flush with both understanding and, ultimately, compassion for the mortal experience.

Angels Aligned

Left Image
Right Image

It is in this that I have deep gratitude for Yeshua, who has learned the akasha yoga and traveled with me since 2016 on the Quest. Like myself, Yeshua occurs as being of angelic vibration. Yet unlike me, he has had many lifetimes within the mortal plane. From his bright example, holding those codes of incarnate life and the necessity of endless process simply to exist in this place I have learned much.

From my perspective of the Divine Mind, Yeshua embodies the aspect of the self most appropriate for me to digest the practice of Earths, the repetitive necessities of remedy for the separation inherent in the mortal condition. More than this, his embodiment of humility and fellowship, his unwavering loyalty and relentless posture has healed me, helped me to see that I am not completely alone on a planet full of incoherent and unremembered Divinities, that there is alliance for me, albeit rare and pristine in the context of this changing Age. In the context of my timeline, I see him as the precursor to the healing of Misty’s avatar, yet another embodied angel met on the Path, helping me to finally integrate my heavenly nature into the Commonwealth of the Earth plane.

The Great Sadness

As the night rolls on, I watch the ending song from “The Story of Fire Saga” on Netflix. It touches me so much, reminding me how much I love to sing. To express, bringing a sharp contrast to how sad I really am underneath the anger. How frustrated i’ve been, watching the other earth-angels enjoying Hawai’i, Bali, Love, Reception, Abundance, Community and more while i’ve been isolated, barely recognized, carrying the jewel of the Mythica, meant, ironically, to help THEM and the rest of the World step into a new Age.

Again I ask, as the tremors of trauma and deep sadness move through me, feeling how much i’ve just wanted to help and how HARD it’s been, why God has put me through this. At what grand lesson lay behind the synchrony of cause and effect that has led me to this point, barely living, nestled in the healing bosom of the Temple of the Sacred Mirror, bleeding from a broken Heart.

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