2021 - April - Week II


The energies are aligning so strongly as I leave the cottage, still resonating deeply with the Aka of Purpose and Wealth that I felt transmitted so deeply from Dave Burns and Carolyn Elliot, where I continue to witness the confluence of events across the ethers, the synchronicities which reveal our position in the landscapes of the Mythica.

Cleaning the Land

I wonder if I shall ever become accustomed to the way humans pollute the very land upon which they live.  If there will ever be enough awareness for the people of the Commonwealth to understand the relationship between their pollution of the land and the limitations to their abundance.

The Giving Tree

As I leave Nature’s Patch, I pause for a moment to resonate with the dryad who I have befriended that stands just outside the market.  Here, I breathe into the ethers, feeling the pulse and prana of the Goddess moving through the branches.  Touching my hand to her bark, I draw upon the energies while also breathing my energies into her trunk, feeling my form filling with prana and releasing that which no longer serves through the conduit of my awareness.

As I return to my forge within the Wizard’s Cottage, I discover that the Thoth tarot has arrived.  As it does, I feel into the substance of it’s structure, the way in which the impressions of the akasha have been interpreted by Aleister Crowley and the other incarnates of his sect.  A play of images and feelings reflects back to me from the field, and I see threads across the sands of time, black skies illuminate with stars across a cooling desert, echoing into armatures of associations and divinations into the Aka and how they play out below and above the surface of awareness.

To even be engaging in the process of the Thoth deck is deeply significant for me, for I am no novice to the arts of divination.  During my time at the Academy of the Ancients Arts from 20042007, I studied and applied the divinatory arts extensively, working with a triad of decks to triangulate the elements of one’s current conditions.  I had learned this from my fae-sister LeFaye, and had applied the arts of divination with the tarot as a daily practice, eventually coming to the realization that the magic I was channeling demanded a new form of divination itself – a way of documenting one’s sacred path along the landscapes of legend that underlie the surface of the worlds.

This revelation had led me to create the Akashic Compass, a means of divining one’s way through the underlands of the Mythica, to see the integral connection between one’s inner and outer world as they manifest on the surface of Gaia.  Over time, it had clarified, becoming a way of showcasing the many realms and realities that one encountered along the rainbow road, revealing the boughs and branches of the World Tree herself.

After initiating the Thoth tarot deck outside I come in and pull a card.  Change comes up.

It is significant to me, not because I’ve researched it’s definition in the hermetic form but for my own direct perception of the Aka beneath the form twinkling in the causal and subtle planes below the surface of the worlds.  It recalls for me words I shared with Joshua a day or so before, that the change-winds were blowing, signifying our movement from the Wizard’s Cottage and our imminent return to the western coastlines of Americas.

I am deeply contemplating the nature of the Existential Kink invocation and the core essence of magic, feeling into the nature of my own awareness of the ethers and how I perceive the substance of the self and the ability to transform it.  Like all aspects of the Great Art, it is a deeply visceral thing of subtle somatics, articulate around the entry of my awareness into the ethers themselves, the locus of my position determining my effectiveness in relating to and alchemizing the patterns within my subtle and causal body.

It’s an interesting sensation.  A melody of gnosis that goes far beyond the artifice of ethers that defines the Existential Kink spell, where I feel the primality of my akashic awareness seeing the clay of consciousness itself and feeling the torque of my grasp upon the substance of the Creation as she moves through the shape of my story.


Honiring my intent to investigate the hermetic alchemies more fully, I invoke the daily draw of newly acquired Thoth deck, revealing the Prince of Wands.  As I do, a sense of warmth fills me, one of virtue, of my own fiery lion, of luminance and harmony, tickled and tempted by my own inner sharpness in spears of volcanic light.  A sense of motion speaks to me, and feel a correspondence with our upcoming movement towards the Valley of Grass and confluence with the pantheon of avatars that lives there.

As I step into the morning, the Creation reflects my divination back to me as I receive a message through the Facebook from the Lady Door, a priestess i’d met during my time at the Ashland Shire.  We share a text across the ethers …

“Just wanted to send you Blessings & Gratitude old friend. Hope to see ur smile sooner then later and to sing with you. How are you Love??”
“Hey.  It is ON. After years of effort, the Mythica spell is finally coming into coherence. We’re opening the gates! 
The change-winds are blowing.  I’m heading from where i’m at right now in Clearwater , FL towards the  Grass Valley to establish a rooted base. Where are you? YES to singing!”
“Yes you are!!! Grass Valley to establish rooted base?  Hahaha no wonder North came to visit me in spirit. I am planted here in Nevada county. Really deeply focused on my healing and empowering the immune system of nature. Was a rough road for a bit with my toxic dude choices and I am so joyful to be shifting the currents of my deepest inner values. Have the most amazing sister circle of internation super heros around me holding me accountable and in light. This life is soooo Blessed
And I am Straight Joyful that you will be in this area!! Will pack a joyous feast to take to the river and sing with you when it’s time. I am also happy to be a support hand however I can for you. My home and my heart are open to you as always dear brother.

“I feel that so deeply.  Yes, it feels like we’re coming home after many years of building this portal that serves the entire community and the world.  So .. North visited you:?”

I have been in spirit the past week retracing my roots and yes I felt his spirit in huge ways about 2 weeks ago.  I meet Kundra recently after praying for my Armenia sisters.. I was actually getting ready to travel there when I meet her. I love that she is part of the Mythica.  Thank you so much for all your hard work, Peter.  Big Respect & Gratitude to You”

Shifting the ethers of my form, I shift my gaze into the Mythica, seeing the manifestations on my timeline in their subtle hues, informing me as to the rainbow beneath my road.

More and more I coming into a coherence over what must be done to clear my house regarding finances.  With barely $200 or so in the bank. I examine the weave of synchronicities which expresses my current relation with the Aka of Wealth.  For a long time now, I have been in a repetition of “just enough”, feeling a vastness of restriction in my access to the assets of abundance.  Such prompted Joshua and I to make our way across the underlands of Value, clearing the distortions as best we could across the skin of Gaia along the Quest, forging the Mythica from our trials and triumph along the way.

It had been a difficult journey, one demanding the dissolution of the shadows that obstructed the light and expansion that is the birthright of all humanity, bringing us face-to-face with the most existential of questions and resolutions regarding the nature of Will, Choice, Synchronicity, Purpose and our Place within the larger context of the emergent magical world.

It was an effort of valiant heroism, and I am proud of us both for it, for my heart is lion-bright and ready, fueled by the light of my sacred art, carrying us forward on a chariot of light.  Such is the expansion for me, for whilst we have been in restricted circumstance in one facet in the house of our art we have had vast expansions in others, so much so that we now have the means and method to receive the abundance that wishes to come to us from the Creation.

Such demands a contemplation from me, one I have faced many times regarding the timing of events on the strings of my story.  The WHEN a moment happens along my timeline … the crucial intersection of synchronicities which describes the world into being.

I hear a singing in ethers as I write this, an echo of my words as they ring through the hypersigil of the Mythica, the lattice of her interconnections reminding me again that the Work we had done had paid off – that we had proven the physics of the quest and were now ready, at last ready to open the gates of the temple to the people.  Such feels to be the expression of our Heart’s Desire to live as the bards and mystics that we are, revealing the magical world through the power of Story, backed up at last by the esoteric firmament of modern business.


Something magical happens as I make my way back into the house, my attention drawn once again to the single Rose which blossoms within the trellis outside the Wizard’s Cottage.  Her voice whispers to me, touching the edges of my awareness, and I witness a photo of her in recognition of the communication.


I follow through on my Word to investigate the Thoth tarot, going deeper into the book suggested by the WEALTH group.  As I open it’s pages, a wealth of information flows through me, designating the impressions with the akasha that make up the substance of the author, their studies, their contemporaries and the general milieu of the octave of consciousness that makes up their substance, occurring as ripples of impermanent form across the clay of Creation bound and defined by their self-definition within the unfoldment of the Akasha theatre.

Mortal works are always mortal works.  Interpretations of the natural laws made from the starstuff of causal material,  entirely appropriate to the people and places with whom they shared a dharmic gravity.  In such context, the hermetic arts are no different than our own journey across the underlands of the Mythica, our own divinations into the substance of our stories gradually coming to embody the current melody of such esoteric excellence for the emergent Aeon.

Akasha - Eyes through the Akasha - cropped

It is from the intimate distance of the Akasha then that I view the sanskara of the magical caste of the last few generations, the patterns of “culture” and “tradition” that define the mortal game and the fascination with the ideas of prophecy and intentional creation that lay at the heart of the alchemical ideal.

It is fascinating to witness the gravity of the avatar of magic(k) which looked on the surface as the “Aleister Crowley” incarnate.   To see the way in which this being was regarded, tasting the impressions within the dream of the world that defined his time and contemporaries as well as the tradition of magick borne from his channeled revelation.

Such a thing is not unknown to me, and the tales of Egyptian communion that already kiss the opening to the book (which I am only just exploring) feel aligned with the larger mythos of the magician and priestess, the underlying pattern of archetype which shifts it’s forms but not it’s function in the rippling waves of mortal incarnation.

It is a beautiful thing, for this is my first deep experience of this hermetic approach to the mystic arts.  And while it reeks of the hyper-meticulous intellectual associations of the “magician” as compared to the sensory wash and intrinsic elementalism of the Fae, it is nonetheless clearly an exploration into the universal forces that underlie our experience of divination and manifestation, all of which occur for me simply as inquiries into the substance of the ethers and the patterns which exist within the Akasha that define the cause and effect of the mortal plane.

In such blessed context, my construction of the Akashic Compass as a divination tool feels a modern parallel to the artifact of the Thoth deck, a contemporary form of divination which expands on the etheric interpretations of one’s underworld to include it’s purpose and placement upon the skin of Gaia herself.

Such brings up the classic query that has defined my experience of the incarnate plane, an inquiry which could be phrased as my inner wondering  – the definition of “self” in the Great Story that is essence of my own gravity of definition for after all, I AM the embodiment of my holy guardian angel.  And while this does not excuse me from my portion of the distortion that defines the human challenge, it gives rare viewpoint on the substance of the stories that make up the worlds, including those of the modern magician.

This in and of itself is fascinating, as I encounter myself and Joshua as agents of a more modern interpretation of the magickal Arts than the hermeticism itself, a mythos which feels us as devic and elemental personages finding our way to the current caste of characters and traditions that dot the world of magical society.

Invoking the Bardic

Feeling the flush of Opening, we invoke a beautiful shared bardic, the lyricals and tone moving through us easily, only to discover after-the-fact that there was not enough space on the phone.   Repeating the spell, we glean a different kind of gold, one that reveals the process of stumbling and standing in it’s valiance, inspiring us both.

To be in the bardic, in the Eros of inspired poetry, IS sweet – aligned with the essence of our Heart’s Desire, to bring the temple through, living life in an inspired dream of waking.

After the moment, Joshua does a quick spell, shifting the ethers of his substance across the starscape of the akasha, an act paralleled by my own channeled inspiration to witness his subtle movements in motion and light.  Like the invocation of the bardic within the rainbow visualization of the video, it feels an expression of the original glyph of the Mythica, my woven intent to create a way of easefully showing the subtle beneath the surface across the Incarnate plane.


I continue my explorations of the Thoth tarot drawing the card ‘Lust’ upon waking.  Significant as I am just reading Lon Milo DuQuette’s book whereby he mentions this very card.

A medley of interpretations comes to me, where I look at the flurry of faces in the photo and feel the collective consciousness of the worlds, with a sense of the wisdoms of the people somehow related to her uplifting hand which feels both agitated and cooling, reminding me of my own interpretation not of the card “Lust’ but my own relationship with the Aka of sexual intent and it’s potency throughout my life.

I know this not to be a clarified interpretation, for I feel a sequence of tones beneath the substance of my gaze, and decide to give it time to clarify it’s message to my waking mind.

 I feel a tingling in the tip of my sex as I write this, a reminder of the burn I received by trusting my last lover’s declarations of safety and sanctuary, a sensation which sends me into a rage at her incompetence and the sheer mundanity of vibrations that defined her world.  A renewed anger, a sense of being imprisoned and restricted flushes through me, and I consider writing her a letter illuminating the hypocrisy of her presentation and how she was not the sanctuary she professed herself to be.  In this I consider how my life has been dominated by the longing for sexual union, stroking myself throughout the nights in a tangled web of desire and discomfort, of feeling untrusting of the awareness of the people and the Aka of the Mother and Lover.

Agitation rises through my form as I consider this, the ripples of rage burning me from within and affecting my clarity, demanding that once more I invoke the mechanics of forgiveness, acceptance and surrender as modifiers to shift my energies such that I am not denied access to the assets of the akasha, feeling the olde sting of resentment towards the nature of the mortal plane itself.

Ma Tu Ra

The timbre of my mood changes as I come into confluence with Ma Tu Ra, one of the avatars of the Awakening that I have come into contact with through the ethers, his aspect appearing in the field as we make our way ever-deeper into the modern mystics that dot the surface and subtle planes of the Commonwealth.

It is so pleasant to speak with Ma Tu Ra.  To encounter another of the Grail Kings in their current form and function, thick with the gnosis of the primal world.  To connect with him is a deep sign of movement forward, where the conversation carries the gravity of embodied magic, of the transcarnate mythos that defines our current characters in the Great Story.  In this there is a similarity, a constancy of Avalonian nobility which shines beneath the surface – where I see Ma Tu Ra, Paul Brighton, Ed Thurlow and many others in their rightful honorific as ambassadors of the remembered world.

Rose Revelations

As I continue to digest the Don’s guide to the Thoth tarot, a remarkable revelation occurs, one that reaffirms my longstanding query and answer of being-ness within the mortal plane.  It is a moment of deep recognition, where I feel the shapes within the ether aligning, the ripples clearly seen beneath the canvas of my path and purpose.

The confluence is profound, for he accompanies the esoteric philosophy of the Qabalah with diagrams and explanations which define the Rose at the center of the Cross of the Creation itself, defining the Thoth tarot as a functioning model of the Universe, an array of qualities arranged in mathematical hues from a point of absolute zero, the formlessness from which all things arise.

As with all aspects of the mortal plane, it is the TIMING of the information, the WHEN it arrives on the aka thread of my timeline, confluent with a web of synchronicities informing me as to the shape of the akasha in the moment.  In such context, it is not simply the new information provided by Lon’s most-excellent treatise on the Thoth tarot, it is my own recognition of the parallel between the palette of colors correlated to the design of the Rose cross and their prismatic emanation from the white point of undifferentiated consciousness into the world of matter, for such parallels my own integral understanding of the many colors of the rainbow road within and without the self.  Here I see the Mythica, including the system of divination and manifestation expressed within her structure to be a parallel model, where my own intuitions and understandings of the nature of universal colors and how they paint the canvas of the Creation has coalesced into a new form … a modern form of recognition through the dream of the worlds that grounds out the journey of manifestation itself in a contemporary way.

In this I feel a confluence, Lon Milo’s depiction of the Rose & Cross of his order arriving in close parallel to the blossoming Rose outside the Wizard’s Cottage, both playing out as aspects of the same underlying vibration, the Mythica’s bloom and our imminent movement forward on the rainbow road.

The Rainbow Rose

The quality of the Rose & Cross is significant, tying deeply into my personal mythology, for in one way or another I have always been in pursuit of the Rose., for it has always been about the Rose,  it’s aspect shimmering in constancy across the many realms I have traveled across the Creation,  showing it’s face in the mythos of the Fae realms in it’s aspect of the White and Red Roses as we discovered during the “Heart of Faerie” episode of 2018, my pursuit of the Rose of Love and it’s attempted invocation across my timeline, the quality of the Magdalene line embodying through Dakota Chanel and many other priestesses of the Art I have encountered along the way and more.

Such brings to mind the ideal of the Rose as the Creation itself, the essence of the spiritual and material planes expressed in a rainbow of colors,  the embodiment of Divine Light THROUGH the subtance of Gaia where the various worlds and their alchemies make themselves known as a splay of chromatic petals, the blossomed lotus of awakened consciousness made manifest.   

A beautiful truth arrives for me in that moment, for rainbow roses do not grow from planted seeds alone.  Instead, they must be curated, the stems segmented into varying decanters of Water flush with food coloring.  Such is not an immediate process, but one that requires real effort.  In essence, to create the rainbow rose requires alchemy, the human journey manifest.

In such a framework, there is the quality of wonder – What is the rosy hue of the more heavenly earth? The place of collective and contextual consciousness, where we stand in the brightest aspects of our own intrinsic value, flush with the awe and wonder that is our birthright? What shade of this rainbow rose and it’s emanation from the centerpoint of all that is embodies the alchemical gold of embodied WEALTH?  Such is the grand inquiry, the intended result of the alchemies Joshua and I perform within the structure of the Mythica, whereby through our efforts we arrive on a string of synchronicities of spiritual and material success – the birthright of abundance shared by all humanity.


It rains throughout the night, the hail of water pattering on the roof and windows in a comforting wash, reminding me of my resonance with the deva of storm and sky.  As I awaken, I invoke the deck, pulling a card for the day and receiving the 2 of Swords, “Peace”.

My understanding of the cards is growing.  To come to Lon Milo’s text on the Thoth tarot FROM the place of embodied gnosis that I have already attained is a most profound thing, for it honors both the authenticity of my own magic and the way it fits into the established systems of the previous Aeon.

Here, flush with new information as to the chromatic undercurrent of the cards, I see the green and yellow of the card in new light, the swords crossing over what seems like a blossoming flower or container, echoed by four distinction holograms of light.  As for what it means, I cannot yet say, save that my first intuition is a digestion of the four suits of the Tree of Life as described in Lon Milo’s text, each of which contains it’s own holographic iteration of the Tree of Life within it’s domain.

In this context, I see how my understanding of the Tree of Life expressed as the World Tree of our interconnections and the alchemical pantheon of characters which play out in our stories are equivalent things, ways of expressing the Divine mathematics that form the firmament of the worlds.  In this way, the Akashic Compass of the Mythica and the Thoth tarot are in harmony, each occurring as the surface representation of a gnosis of understanding, both showing the same thing in different ways appropriate to the individual and the Aeon in which they exist.

Yet how, in essence, do they relate? As I contemplate the text, the layers of my understanding regarding the embodiment of the colors of the Creation as the pantheon of people, places and events that occur along one’s sacred path work steadily, feeling as a fluid churning within the strata of my current self.

There is an understanding – I had designed the Mythica as a map of the Creation, showcasing my own movement through the qualities of consciousness embodied as colors upon the rainbow road – marrying the concept of esoteric divination into the very actual manifestations of one’s inner and outer landscape, revealing the principle of the sacred mirror in the course of my journey.

Seen in the context of one’s sacred path across the Akasha, such reveals the way in which those specific qualities of Divine color play out within and without, forming the basis for our personal path along the rainbow road – the journey of “Know thy self” embodied as a living adventure.

(Image from the 2016 episode “Portal to the New Earth“)

I continue to work on the Mythica, building out the business plan.  Everything feels resonant, the ethers are singing and I feel what needs to happen, each step moving us closer to the manifestation that we desire.

I feel the channels opening, and with that, access to the assets of the akasha, where my authenticity is playing out as videos teaching the magic as well as helping friends with my coherence.  There is a sense of old patterns within the self and the ability to drop into them, to invoke the solve and coagula practices to dissolve them such that I may invoke new shapes in the ethers of my subtle and causal body.

A vision comes to me as I write, a way of showcasing the constellations of light I perceive in the ethers connecting the many aspects of the Creation into shapes of Aka, giving rise to the many forms of the incarnate plane.

I feel it as shapes in the akasha.  Specifically, as my own shape in the akasha.  Where I see my self from angel’s gaze and witness the colors changing in the structure of my story, playing out as both the increasing awareness of the sensation that define my resolving subconscious impressions and the clarity to shift them, all of which is resulting in a vast expansion.  Here I see the Mythica performing the function for which I designed her, anchoring myself into my own mythos through the alchemy of story.

It’s inspiring, and I feel prana moving through my form – moving me upward and into the confluence with Joshua, who shares the feeling, and we get into a deep conversation over the magic, the WEALTH membership, Thoth tarot and our sacred function in the emergent Aeon as avatars of the mystic arts.

As I move to rest for the night, I remember my intention to invoke the Ojaya meditation and incorporate it into a routine, the better to empower my human aspect.  As usual Joshua is a great reminder, holding the codes of the mortal alchemies such that I may understand them and fulfill my function in this place.


I stir myself to waking, lying about in my bed, appreciative of the sanctuary granted by the Wizard’s Cottage.

I feel the change-winds blowing.  The shape of the realms is shifting, and we see the mountains of Zen ahead of us, merely 10 days journey away.

Heading outside, I pull my card for the day, revealing the Knight of Cups.  With his outstretched hands holding a chalice and the wings of an angel on his back, the sense of the movement of the horse and the upturned cup which feels to catch and emanate the rays of light I sense victory in our works.  The sign of the Cancer crab appears as well amidst a flurry of what seems like waves of Water of a radiant blue, as well as what feels to be a subtle peacock at last showing it’s wings like a watery phoenix.  A feeling of emotional charge rises, alongside a growing association between the text of Lon Milo’s treastise on the Thoth tarot and the various symbols within the card.

The anger and discontent towards the The ways in which I have been unrecognized and demanded to endure the distortions of the human plane.  I witness repetitive shadows, thoughts and images of aggressively asserting my discussed for the vibrations of this world, for illuminating what I perceive to be the weakness and lack of virtue in those I thought were my allies and Koszy their pretensions into dust with the strength of my magic.  As I do, I am aware of the agitation within me simultaneous with the recognition that it is a wound of the heart. That I do not truly wish to overwhelm those who simply did not have the awareness to recognize me or themselves.
A ripple moves through the field, and I look up, seeing the signpost with the word ‘Lotus’ written upon. As I do, I consider it’s meaning … what it means to be in the amnesia of being human, where the very definition of the lotus and the idea of liberation exist in the context of bondage. Of imprisonment into the cause and effect of the mortal plane.
The deva of the water remind me. Helping me to see that what I am feeling is just the old pattern. In my truest heart, I have no desire to wound the other aspects of the collective self. Rather, my intent is to uplift them, to remind them of their myth and meaning, to help them see the great unfoldment that has been going on beneath the surface of their lives.  Such as the truer authenticity – the true agenda which lay behind my angelic grievance with the necessity of compassion, tolerance and I’ll chemical process in our shared transformation to a new Aeon
2021-4-12 - 3
My attention is drawn once again to the RV that sits beside the park, the symbol of the lion and the words “born free“ upon it’s side. It feels divination from the field, important of our impending movement towards the The western shores and the deeper fields of abundance across the underlings of the Mythica.
Here I have to reflect again on the shadows and still-resolving angers and disappointments that sit beneath the surface of my story.
I consider it an opportunity to engage the existential kink in vocation, which continues to prove to be deeply appropriate for mine and Joshua’s next degree of clearing and transformation such that we may deliver the authenticity of our gift free from the agitated yesterdays repeating their litany of trauma across the mindaeye.
I witness a synchrony in the underlands, my thoughts of resolving patterns occurring simultaneous with the appearance of a chain-link fence on the surface of the world. The implication is clear to me-such patterns are the prison itself, The grooves in the record of my interpretations which continue to bleed long after reality itself has shifted to a brighter place.
I know these things are not me. That they are not the true emanation of the guardian angel that lives within.  I know they are simply the remnants of my grievance with the mortal plane and the difficulty of trials inherent to the transforming age.
I laugh at myself here, for where it not for those trials, I would have no context for the treasures of realization that I now bring to the world.
The irony is not lost on me.  We’re not for such trials, I would have had no heroic journey. No risk, no reward. In this I realize, not for the first time, that I have won.  I have achieved the clarity and coherence that I Longfore in my journeys across shadow. I have constructed the artifact of the Mythica and her functioning portal to a new world. I have come to my own kingship, evolving from the boy I was on a journey of personal mythos and nobility into an excellence of perception and poise.
I have won.  So why am I still fighting?
The darkness within rises up the question. Once more, I see the desire, long – Harbored in the caverns of anger, to illuminate to the world how small, how pedestrian and ridiculous I find the mortal plane. To illuminate without a doubt how much better I am than this place.

It’s a shadow.  Yet is that how I truly feel? Is that The fullness of my character and it’s noble quest to help the people by outlining the maps to the New World?

It does not feel so. Rather, it feels like the cry of good intentions met with disappointment. It feels like innocence met with the reality of moral limitations. It feels like sadness at the suffering that is intrinsic to the mortal condition.
I do not wish to cause suffering.  And my grievance is not truly with the people, but the nature of this age of humanity itself. The nature of the nigh–endless shadow work, “acceptance“, “tolerance“, “perseverance“, and other definitions Which circle round the relationship One has with the mechanics of the Incarnate and the necessary practices and alchemy‘s that lead to the liberation from those repetitions.
There is tension, within.  As a potential remedy I invoke the Existential Kink spell, searching the strata of my subtle and causal bodies for what part of me gets off on the reality of mortal imprisonment in the threads of cause-and-effect. At what part of me has intended the manifestation of the challenges I have faced in digesting the plane of form and the vast dissatisfaction I have had with the caliber of consciousness in this place.
Another confluence occurs as I dictate this into my phone, mirroring the undercarriage of my thoughts. As I walk, I notice piles of garbage to the right of me packaged into bags in front of walled fence. It is a fitting symbol for my perspective of human life – a seemingly endless cleanup job. A janitorial task Of cosmic proportions, where upon birth one is immediately thrust into a distorted mockery of the Eden that once was. In which the very definition of the human journey of liberation and self-development is a constant process of cleaning up the trash that lay upon the surface and subtle octaves of the land.
I don’t like it. Yet in the harboring of grievance, I only rehearse and repeat my agitation with the very substance of what is. It is folly …  so I return again to my inquiry into the kink of enjoyment towards the limitation of the human world.
The sign of the lotus appears in the field, reminding me that everything I do is to help the people blossom, using the tale my own journey of clearing up my portion of the distortion, the trash upon the land, to show through example the road to a brighter world.
I smile at the people as I continue my walk, and they smile back, each of us acknowledging each other in the fellowship and Mutual respect of recognition. Such is my deeper truth. The recognition that we are all a part of the body of God, And that ultimately, beneath the shadows and distortions that have defined  the dying age , Is love.
Yet how to embody that love? How to authentically dissolve and resolve the war still echoing in my veins?
The question weighs on me as I sit in front of the computer, endlessly working on the Mythica.  Wishing to share, or simply just to connect with others, I send out a couple of texts on Facebook looking for connection.
I should have known better.  For years now, almost any time I try to connect with people I’ve gotten ignored or forgotten, left in isolation and frustration and striving to figure out what lay in the subtle and causal aspects of my self that is causing the circumstance.
I know it is connected to the anger.  To the feeling of being unreceived, and the intensity of the disgust i’ve felt towards what i’m demanded to forge my way through in the human condition.  I can feel it, burning and churning inside of me, an outrage at the very IDEA that to exist in the human condition means constant, constant work to free oneself from the imprisoning patterns that are the definition of the human condition at this time.  It’s a thing i’ve hated, in fact it’s THE THING i’ve hated about being here … that simply incarnating into this place means stepping into the conditions that define the changing Aeon.
It is the OLDE WOUND.
I speak with Nate for a little while whilst walking the streets of late-night Florida. The conversation is repetition, or perhaps a spiral, in which I share with him the old wound, something he has heard many times before. I explain how I am using the journal to anchor my acceptance and involvement with the process of Solvay and coagula to transform the circumstances of my life by clearing the deep end rooted intentions that lay within my subconscious, dividing my will and reducing my effectiveness.
This is not to say that there is not victory. In fact, we are flush with victory. The ability to create this journal, the videos, the courses, the business outline, the new allies… Everything feels expensive. There is a sense of going beyond the willful invocation of a sensation as a lever to manifest the reality associated with that sensation into the sense of the sensation itself. The actuality of the thingAnd it’s manifest form.
Yet the anger persists, hammering at the gates of my senses, demanding resolution of the ancient grievance with the necessity of alchemy in the mortal plane.
I know it can sound crazy – how can I be presenting something to help the people with their awakening while simultaneously having a deep disgust towards the process of liberation itself?

It’s not a paradox. More accurately, it is the shifting tides of the ethers that give rise to my mood and manner, where I experience myself in a process of authentic inventory and acceptance of my own disdain as part of the existential kink invocation.

In principle, I feel there is some approach which can allow the underlying intentions that are working against my conscious intentions to resolve… A process of solve by which I may clear my canvas and insert new impressions in the coagula of inner alchemy.


Intentionally, I open the space, feeling the glyph of entry.  The access to the subconscious patterns which are creating my current reality.  As I do, I feel the qualities of the ethers, the places where I feel stuck, others where I sense the flow, playing out as a torrent of sensations across my mindseye.  Breathing into it, I feel the energies move through me, allowing them to shift the space within.  Something shifts, and I feel my access increase.

In this there is some acceptance and recognition, if not a Ribbon of authentic gratitude for the realization that my character mythos in the earth plane is one of the mastery of magic, and that I truly have been blessed to play the part of a diva come to earth in service to the awakening.
This soothe me, calming the fires of my discussed for the bondage of earth, clearing the distortions on my own lens of perception such that I may once again see the blessing inside the burden.
Such a reminds me again of why I constructed the Mythica… Why I am documenting my journey as we speak.
There is a nobility  to it by my own definition.  A willingness to speak both of my own divine qualities and the struggle of being human. In which I am to show the reality of the challenges that are faced by each and everyone of us, regardless of our seeming Pedegree and origin.
It is a thing of truth. We are all divinity being human. While my quality of consciousness is a rare thing and my innocence of the impressions within the Akasha define a peculiar and extreme viewpoint, we are all in the mortal condition together.
It brings up why I write the journal. Partially, I write the journal to share the adventure, to reveal the subtle landscape beneath the surface of our story, illuminating the nature of the path as I have come to see it. More primarily, it is a means of my own yoga. My own way of clarifying my consciousness. Using the writing to anchor my awareness end of my own resolving patterns and the techniques that must be used to liberate myself.
The Deva speak to me then, showing me my shadow within a shadow of leaves from the local trees.  It feels a divination, a reminder from the world tree that Shadow is a part of life itself. That it defines the journey towards wholeness.
I breathe out, And drink in the wisdom of the Deva to settle my nervous system such that I may have greater access to the assets of consciousness that will lead me to the reality I desire.
I feel the change-winds continuing to blow, the skin of this realm fading.  Greener pastures beckon, and I feel a healing opening in the realms of grass Valley. One where I feel there will be access to the discipline and devotion two clearing the remaining incoherence in my field that must be cleared to make the journey Further on the rainbow Road.
I continue my walk, and wield the Existential Kink spell, feeling into the soma of my form from angel’s gaze. Here, I actively feel into my enjoyment of the challenges, into the nature of excellence i’ve achieved and how it could only have happened because of the trials. I feel into the shape of it, the shape within the shape of my self that pushes it’s ripples into my world.
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I feel an opening. One that feels connected to the weaving of events involving the cohesion of the Mythica, our upcoming movement towards Zen Awakening, the arrival of WEALTH membership and the yin of the Existential Kink invocation, and I feel things dissolve inside.
Immediately, I have access. I’m able to see an inspiration in the ethers of the Akasha to speak into a voice memo to put into a podcast I shall call “On the Path”, in which I feel an EASEMENT, a sense of flow which feels more expansive and abundant.

A vast opening comes to me late in the evening, where I feel myself drop into my mythos and my natural magic comes out …


Morning comes, and I cannot remember my dreams.  I continue to feel the change-winds, the trappings of the Wizard’s Cottage feeling more and more diffuse.  California looms on the horizon.

The Aeon card greets me as I invoke the Thoth tarot.  Immediately a sense of expansion and tightness moves through me.  I know it’s significant, yet not quite why.  I am still digesting the books on it’s form, so am unclear as to the official meaning – only that it feels relevant to my circumstance.

I examine the card.  The centerpoint of Horus speaks of the New World itself, and the ethereal being, it’s lips held in silence, shimmers across the ethers.  I get the sensation of a great ankh, of a river of colors, of wings and radiance, like looking at some emergent golden egg.  The vision fades, and I let it settle, affirming my intent to continue investigating the lorebook by Lon Milo DuQuette regarding the cards.

To be in this position in the underlands of the Mythica is new.  The easement and expansion over the past few weeks has been PROFOUND, where I see the seed of the invocation I cast so many years ago, the core spell of the Mythica herself, unfolding.  It’s a process.  Sheeesh … everything in the mortal plane is a fucking process.  Shadow-work this, subconscious pattern that, dharma, karma and the repetitions of my life-song, still topping the charts at Akashic Records.

I breathe into this, reminding myself that i’m only just dropping more fully into the Incarnate plane, coming to an acceptance and (potentially) even a gratitude for the opportunity to do endless work simply to achieve the realms of Victory.

This in and of itself is a funny thing.  One of the many seeming paradoxes of my being.  I created the Mythica to anchor my powers, to help me embrace the plane of form … make sense of the synesthete overwhelm that defined my earlier years.  She has been my truest and most constant devotion, my great relationship with Calliope and her sisters – notably Euterpe and Terpsichore  (The Muses of Story, Song and Dance, respectively) and through them, my recognition of the Presence which sits behind all things.  I had devoted my life to the yoga of Story herself, and was reaping the rewards of my perseverance.

With the Mythica spell humming beneath my fingers, I realize that I had done it, that the twenty years of my journey across the landscapes of legend had given me exactly what i’d wanted – a magical adventure, flush with the Gods and Goddesses of the current Aeon, through the very real places of rarified light that defined the subtle landscapes of the world.  I had done the unseeable, documenting my journey through the very real multiverse of possibilities, finding my path along the string of synchronicities that was my sacred Story.

It has been a journey of unity, of finding a balance between the root and the crown within the self – of dropping my celestial awareness in the mortal plane, where my entire story has been defined by my substance as a tabula rasa, coming into the Incarnate without the slew of impressions across the ethers that forges the firmament of mortal repetitions within this place.

It is the Superman story.  The tale of Asgard to Midgard.  A dropping into an foreign world, filled with all manner of distortions and delights.  An angel bound into clay.

Incarnate life was not known to me.  I had never been here before.  Save for the impressions in the ether that allowed me to exist in the web of cause and effect that defines this world, I was an innocent – unaware of the distorted agitations that define the Great Work of modern alchemy.

It’s my feeling that this has been the issue.  The reason why I have had so much difficulty in this plane, and why i’m unpacking it here in this alchemical journal.  I know it relates to the Aeon card, to the unfoldment of the Mythica and the Ascension.  I can feel it, teasing the edges of my senses … a quality in the ethers that longs for revelation.

Like I said yesterday, there’s an irony to it.  The reality that were it not for the challenges on the Quest there would be no Quest.  That if we already existed in the Golden Age, there would be nothing to do.  The entire basis for the mortal plane would be different … flush with the exalted version of incarnate life.  If I hadn’t been bound to the patterns of this plane, I would have no Story of liberation from their imprisonment.

There is a kind of authentic gratitude for that, yet as it always has, it falls into the context of a general outrage, a kind of celestial pretension-slash-innocence that I even have to engage in what feel like pedestrian practices of magic and manifestation.

I take a moment to re-read my words.  Wow.  Do I really sound like that? The sensation of disgust simmers between the letters.  I can feel it affecting me, the anger afflicting my access to the assets of abundance … reminding me again of the nature of the prison itself.  The reality that I am DEMANDED TO LOVE the conditions of the Incarnate plane as a dissolving agent to the conditions.  That getting angry about it only makes it worse.

My hat’s off to God in this way.  It’s really the perfect trap.  We all long for liberation from it, instinctively realizing on some subtle level of our being that the mortal form is NOT our Truth, that we are in fact the awareness that precedes form … and that all the patterns that constitute the mortal plane are the grist for the mill of that blessed release.  The thing about that is … the patterns are uncomfortable.  Separation is agitating by definition.  It is the movement from our natural state of Oneness into the dirty incoherence of perceived separation, with everything that comes along with it.


This in and of itself would be difficult enough.  But here’s the catch – Somehow, you have to find a way to love it.  To love the agitation.  To love the frustrations.  To achieve a vibrational quality of Divine regard for the shitstorm of repetitions and constant process that defines the mortal plane.

One has to love it.  And if they don’t? If they don’t enjoy the process of limitation and endless tolerance of the pedestrian mortal world? It gets worse.  That’s right.  If one isn’t GRATEFUL FOR THE OPPORTUNITY TO SUFFER, it creates MORE tension.  More difficulty.  More repetitions.  One is demanded to accept it as a remedy of it’s resolution.  Like I said, the perfect trap.  The more you struggle, the tighter the bonds become.  All this from a supposedly loving God.

Yet how to love it? How to hold fast to the necessary practices without resentment? Without feeling as though i’m a master poet with temporary amnesia somehow landed in a class for remedial english?

This is what i’m unpacking.  I know to some of my Readers it may seem pretentious, yet the projections of “others” mean far less to me than my own existential resolution as, after all, they are simply another part of my self.  Of our shared collective self and it’s gradual integration back to wholeness.   It may seem harsh at first, but it’s the way forward, for I know i’m not alone in a resentment at the challenges of mortal life.

Of course, this attitude of NOT-gratitude for the opportunity to suffer isn’t aligned with mainstream “light & love” crowd of aspiring yogis and yoginis, wannabee alchemists and “lightworkers”, all of whom appear to be deeply influenced by a trend of positive affirmations in their own attempt to change their circumstances for the better.

It isn’t just my resentment of the constant application of positivity as an alchemy.  While it’s questionably authentic, I would give it points if it gave the kinds of results that I want to see, and very often that is exactly what I *haven’t* seen.  Such leads me to new kinds of alchemy, new ways of dealing with the human incarceration … oops sorry, I meant to say ‘incarnation’ … ways that TRULY resolve the inner patterns in a more effective way.

Hence, my investigation into the spellwork of Carolyn Elliot’s ‘Existential Kink’.

There’s potency in this – because while I may not be willing to sit through the boring-as-fuck repetitions of emotional trauma as a culture choice, i’m very interested in resolving my own patterns in a sovereign way, coming to mastery of manifestation within the mortal plane such that I may at last end the war with God within my own splintered heart.

It’s the Olde Wound, and I intend to heal it.  To use the magic of Story to bring a mindfulness to the alchemies such that I may transform the repetitions of frustration in my life into a repetition of expansion.  And, as much as I hate it, it’s why I came here.  What the structure and substance of my Character in the Great Story is all about.  The shape in the ethers that defines “Peter Fae”.

Therein lay what feels to be an inconstancy.  After all, I have gotten to live the very real magical adventure of journey into the Mythica.  More than that, i’ve created a contemporary style of divination which addresses our intrinsic inclusion to the substance of Gaia herself as well as the nature of our collective consciousness.  I’ve encountered Goddesses and Gods, met priestesses and magicians and invoked a magic of Olympian proportions, building a portal across the octaves of consciousness itself.  I have accomplished my goal of walking the rainbow road to a new string of synchronicities, a reality free (or at least more free) from the shallow and incoherent realms that define much of the mortal plane.  I have gotten to live in a world of rarified magic, sowing the seeds of the New World with my heart and bright effort.

I have done “the work”.  Yet more work remains.

Despite my successes, I have yet to achieve the full reflections from the field that I desire – the rootedness into the Commonwealth, including the recognition and response of the people as well as the financial stability to thrive.  And while I recognize that this is in large part due to the nature of living that heroic adventure and long-running process of building the Mythica platform to present a viable product to the world, I am also keenly aware of it’s more subtle and causal essence – a pattern in my subconscious that has created the reality of being unseen and unregarded that must be dissolved.

Resolve grows within me.  After all, the Mythica is mostly constructed.  Both Joshua and I feel the change-winds blowing, leading us West.  The sanctuary of the Wizard’s Cottage is dissolving, and new opportunities are arising in the field.  As part of that intiation, I tell Cory, our wizard roommate, thanking him for his graciousness in bringing us into the space.

Heading outside, I consider my position in the underlands of the Mythica.  Where I stand in my own landscape of legend, wondering if I have done enough inner work to transform the pattern of isolation into one of exalted inclusion – if I have resolved enough of this world’s collective patterns of self-denial and shame to experience the reality I desire.

As Within, so Without.  I was in the cottage after all, far and away from the madness of quarantine and confusion.  While the money had not been flush, our access was – we were moving forward in leaps and bounds, the parts of the Mythica coming together into a cohesive whole.  The mobile app was aligning, the journal and timeline were clarified, and we’d made it into the WEALTH membership.

Intentionally, I invoke the Akashic Compass, the lenses showing me the substance of my inner world.  A pentagram shows up, the sign of the coins and the 5-elements of the world, match by the World Tree and the underlying substance of the Akasha.

 Such was a sign to me – that we stood in the territories of abundance, at least partly, and were increasing our gravity in it’s domain.

Contemplations of Kink

I continue to peruse Caroline‘s Elliot’s book on existential kink as I get food. I already understood what she was saying. The ethers were clear in my perception, and I could feel the structure of her spell work-the line of dharma which defined her characters life experiences and the subsequent divination of the EK meditation. I could see how it was part of the suite of impressions manifesting as the current crop of incarnate‘s and the consciousness-transforming practices required to make the transition into the new Aeon.  Yet still, I wished to delve deeper, to embrace the technique more fully.
I feel the validity of her presentation. Far beyond the clear results she has gained in the Incarnate plane, there is a solidity that I feel beneath the surface, the mark of an accomplished magician made manifest.

… I encounter Joshua on the path. He shares with me a repetition of his gradually repeating revelation of his own distaste for the circumstances of the quest. It is a palatable thing, thick with agitation.

This is not the first time we’ve had this conversation. It’s elemental quality has repeated itself so many times, in which I have seen him and I engage in the same conversation, with the same pattern of validation or commiseration, over and over again.

Not for the first time, I consider how unpleasant The sensation has been for me-the Akashic discernment into the pattern speaking out through his mouth and my own, triggering my own deep investigation into the idea of collective and personal will.  Such plays at the very core of my experience of the mortal plane, the unyielding feeling that while we imagine ourselves to make choices, the ideas and inspiration‘s which proceed those choices are determined by the much larger Divinity of which we are but an expression.
It’s significant, and defining, relating to the same perceptual array I feel defines the difference between myself and the majority of incarnates who have not yet crossed the threshold of realization that God is the doer.
It relates to the long-standing conversation I have had with lady Ash, my fellow alumni from the Academy of the ancient arts. In our conversation, I have encountered a repeated pattern of her declaration that everything in life is a choice coming up against my declaration that we can only make choices when God gives us the access to the awareness and that on a deeper level it was God Who created the circumstances in the first place, being the original cause of the Creation itself.
In that discussion, I do not claim that one is not experiencing the idea of making a choice once one has awareness but rather that there is a meta-agenda going on which plays out in the granular nature of WHEN and WHERE we have ACCESS to ideas.
For example – I have only just come in to awareness of the existential kink, “left hand“ approach to transformation. I am only just having the clarity to build out the journal and weave together the parts of the Mythica such that we may deliver a product to the people.
There is a timing to such things. One that transcends the mortal horizon of manifestation. Where I see the distinction between my celestial viewpoint of the Akasha and the dirge of psycho–shamanic practices that are the harmonic response to the distortions within the collective field.
This presents an interesting challenge for me in regards to the existential kink. I have no issue with the idea that some part of me, some divine part, actually enjoys the circumstance, and that through unabashedly approving of the circumstance that it will dissolve, enabling me to impregnate the self with a new set of impressions.
This I can digest easily, and saw within the emanation of Carolyn‘s impressions upon first glance.  I am willing to “do the work“ to process my portion of the distortion that has created the reality of the mortal playing at this time end my suite of circumstances within that expense.  I understand it.  It is the marriage of Heaven and Earth itself, I’m willing to do it NOW that it lay in coherence within me.

Nay … what burdens me is not that. I do not experience myself as having too much aversion to my own dark and taboo desires.

I am not as bent by the patterns of human society as others. I have not been here in the Incarnate plane as long, and therefore simply are not made of the same impressions.  While I am not free from the patterns of the collective, my individual droplet has a different configuration.  A different definition of “self”.

Such is the blessing of being a tabula rasa, of coming into the incarnate plane from the field of innocence, where the lack of clay layered clay upon the angel within is the very thing that gives me access and the liberation of my magical gifts.

At the same time, this very innocence made me unprepared for insertion into the weave of cause-and-effect and The very human, very unrealized, unenlightened, separation-derived idea of “individual will and choice“. Hence the ongoing debate with my beloved fellow alumni from the Academy.
Such speaks to my own pathos, my dissatisfaction with the level of consciousness in the beings I have encountered. My dissatisfaction with the reality of feeling forced to do practices to heal the very distortions that were created by God (as first cause) in the first place. More so, it reflects my distaste for the reality of listening to people prattle on and on about their revelations into the same repetitive pattern within the ethers of their self, also a thing determined by a force larger than human will.
Sometimes it seems like a cosmic joke.  Feeling to me to go beyond my individual manifestation and into a more global realization that the process of people talking about and integrating the shadow, as well as the unconscious repetition of the cycles of their own revelation, declaration, and repeated amnesia, may never stop.  That what I long for, a reality free from my endurance of the circumstance of earth life… Meaning the journey of shadow-work and integration seen on a global level in relation to the mortal plane – May simply not exist. It brings up the idea that I will be demanded to endure these alchemy‘s without respite, moving through cultures with a very different standard for “compassion” than my own.

In an effort to clear my Heart, I gaze into the Akasha.  It is about Will and Choice.  About the very assertion of influence and the somatic inquiry to it’s revelation.

This is the issue. It has always been the issue. While I respect my interpretation of Carolyn‘s assertions tremendously, while I respect Lady Ash’s idea of will and choice and the Joe Dispenza-inspired rhetoric that feels to be her current repetition, I feel that my perspective originates somewhere else.  That my awareness of the integrated dream of what is called “Maya“ or “Reality“ is more anchored in the transcendent awareness of the ethers.  That my otherwordly aspect, that which demanded and empowered the mapping of the Akasha itself, operates from a different place.  My approach to the idea of self-development is different, wrought of the timbres of my place and purpose in the worlds.


This is not to say that their perspective is not valuable. I fully recognize that Caroline, Joe Dispenza and my own self are the embodiment of a certain harmonizing influence, a distillation of the process of personal transformation and alchemy that is appropriate movement into the new Aeon.

In such capacity, I harbor no illusions of achieving the kind of success Carolyn or Joe has had with a certain quality of manifestation.  Rather, I bow to their efforts as a vessel for God’s benevolence and listen deeply, such that I may gain the Gift that they offer with their very presence.  As I do not feel fully grounded in every aspect of my own incarnate self, I am more than willing to respect the aspects that arrive.  I am in it for the win, after all.

What I speak of is different.  In all my travels through the mortal plane, I have yet to encounter another avatar with the codes that I carry – my piece in the collective puzzle.  While I am the first to bow to the throne of another aspect of the Divine, I am also steadfast in the gnosis of my own throne, the Gift that I bring to the round table.  In this gnosis I question the very firmament of WHY “self-work” must even exist as a concept.  Alongside this, I question the WHEN any of us are granted revelation in the strings of synchronicity that make up the Incarnate plane.

It is basically a thing of timing.  Not my timing, but God’s.

It is not lost on me that my own celestial awareness is only very recently dropping into the earth plane. That my path through the Incarnate plane, having taken me most recently through the healing jungles of Hana Mana to the nurturing embrace of  Misty Odom and the Sacred Mirror Temple to the sanctuary of the Wizards Cottage have all been part of my own healing and integration, soothing the way which my angelic self was splintered upon entering into the incoherence of the Age.

Like I said, it’s not about the techniques. Nor am I disrespecting the vessels for the techniques. In fact, quite the opposite.  I honor the pantheon of avatars that arrives on the Path.

My grievances is larger.  Wrought in my formless origin and the trauma of coming to Earth.  It is an outrage at the very nature of mortal life itself. A meta-frustration over the patterns in the collective unconscious, created by God (as first cause and the doer of all things beyond the illusion of the ego) and the timing, far beyond my own little will, as to when such things blossom into form. 

If that seems complicated, let me remind – it has only been very recently that Carolyn‘s work has entered into the field. It has only been very recently that we have had the opportunity to rest and recuperate at the Wizards Cottage. It has only been very recently that I have regained an integration of yet another’s splinter of myself such that I may even “choose to fully incarnate” as Carolyn puts it, without feeling that life on earth was an endless series of boring, repetitive cycles of engagement leading me to a feeling of helplessness before God‘s timing and the sense that I was here as an angelic janitor.
I say this with as much genuine humility and self-regard as I can – I have not been fully coherent … and I have celestial awareness. I have felt splintered and trapped inside a pattern of amnesia and the cycles of the mortal plane and I feel transcendent of it and sent in the capacity of an ambassador for the new Aeon.  I have felt disregarded and unappreciated, and I have come to the awareness that said disregard was not simply a pattern of self – loathing within myself, but the natural result of the difference between the octave of my awareness and that of the beings with whom I tried to share such treasures.
In this I accept (because I have to, in order to have victory through solve and coagula) the circumstances as they have been. I accept my own incoherence. I accept the repetition of the same patterns and unconscious validation that I have endured in conversations with the people. I accept that as a modifier, I must embrace and cultivate and unconditional love for the idea that “I“ chose this (knowing full well that God is the Doer) as a means of clearing my portion of the distortion of the collective field such that we may bring the gift of the Mythica to the world.

The Many Moods of Magic

I have a ganja-infused gummy, and everything SHIFTS.  My mood lightens, and my grasp on the viscera of the subtle soma where the seeds of my world are stored drops down, into my form.  I witness my locus change in the ethers of the Akasha, and I move between the stars into a new gravity.  Deeper in the Mythica.

My chest aches with sadness.  Bile churns in my stomach, and a buzz of resolving agitation moves in the ethers around my head.  Enhanced by communion with the ganja deva, I feel it so deeply.

I sigh, blowing out the tension.  Both thankful and bitter that it took my ingesting a medicine to even remember to release my breath.  Gods, how I hate the Incarnate plane sometimes.  I hate being splintered from my powers, shifting across the gravities of the Akasha in a flurry of worlds.


I feel into the soma.  How can I apply the Existential Kink invocation from my point of entry to dissolve the pattern? How can I truly ENJOY the sensations of limitation and frustration?

… I grin.  I  hate having to do practices.  AND I LOVE it.  I deeply love it, because it’s the authenticity and authority of magic.  The gnosis of direct perception and the definition of a siddhic relationship with the Creation.  It’s the Knowing that I am an avatar of that quintessence, an ambassador for the new Aeon driven by dharma to build a window between the worlds.  To take on the sattvic task of delivering an upgrade to the planet.

I love it.  I do.  Yet I don’t always REMEMBER it.  It’s not always embodied.  Not to the degree that I prefer.  And while I live on an octave of the rainbow road far deeper in the Mythica than most of the planet, I feel still the pull towards the Homelands, towards integrated relationship with the Land and the Love beneath the clay.

Such is the deep magic for me.  The union of Heaven and Earth within the self.  The clear channel of angelic resonance that lay beneath the shadows and grit.

Another breath releases.  Another melody of emotional colors.  My fingers dance across the keys, playing the symphony of a hard-won coherence.

Another breath.  I soften the surface tension of my self, letting go the somatic anchors of old patterns.  It is my own form of solve.  My natural tendency, the grasp on the clay of consciousness that allows other techniques to function.  Intentionally, aware of my intimacy with the substance of my story, I shift my inner asana – the posture of regard in which I relate to my sensate world, to approval.  Deep, transcarnate approval.  The ganja deva has given me an opening, and i’m not going to waste it.

I hold the posture … and things start to shift.  I feel energies moving through the soma, releasing.  There are challenges, as the vast distaste for the necessity of healing in the mortal plane and the repetitions, yet I breathe through these, applying a willingness and appreciation for the difficulties created by God-as-me, changing my emotional regard as a solvent.  I feel things moving inside, the rage dissolves, replaced by a natural exuberance at what Joshua and I have created.

I’m aware of the shifting.  And that awareness is both a burden and blessing, for it lay at the very center of my issue with the mortal plane and the journey into the Mythica.

Everyone shifts, all the time.  It’s maddening.  We become different aspects, different facets of the infinite jewel of the Self, taking on and losing various powers and abilities in accordance with our changing shape.  From my gaze upon the ethers, it is the very nature of realities (yes, plural) themselves.  The structural basis for the mass of the self living in the substance of it’s own gravity.

It happens to me all the time.  In a VERY extreme way.  One moment i’ll have a certain way of looking at and relating to the Creation.  Another moment, i’ll have something completely different.  And while I see that happening amongst all incarnates (as it must), it happens for me in a VERY extreme way.  With a siddhic level of amplitude and depth. 

I leave my room, feeling the energies shifting within, and encounter Joshua in the kitchen.  He is making a “heavy metal clearing” smoothie alongside some Shilijit Mushroom concoction, and offers me some.  I’m thankful.  The Aka of Health and Wholeness is part of his Aspect, and it would be folly to refuse.

As Joshua and I engage, I feel a massive shift, where we are experiencing each other’s vibrations in a deeply mirrored and simultaneous way.  I know the feeling of it.  It’s texture in the ethers.  Such are the realms closer to the Source point, where the perception of “individual” thought becomes more clearly seen as a shared experience of something larger moving through the field.  The fields align, and a sense of collective consciousness fills the space.  The octaves shift beneath us on the rainbow road, and we shift, vibrationally, into a new reality – flush with new sets of impressions and their somatic anchors in the subtle layers of our Worlds.

It feels a massive movement into abundance.  The resonance of the Mythica spell-as-vehicle for transformation.  As I contemplate it, feeling the sense of that more Fifth World resonance, I realize that whatever my interpretation of it was earlier this morning, this was the feeling of the AEON.


For some reason I forget to draw a card in the morning, yet nonetheless the magic unfolds as I make my way outside and feel into the energies coursing through my form.  I had been in the practice of divining my world through the Akashic Compass of the Mythica, and felt no deep loss as I established a new pattern with the Thoth tarot.  I knew i’d get to it at some point during the day.

The Sun shines on me as I breathe into the Land, feeling the change-winds picking up speed.  The Cottage was feeling more and more distant, her corners feeling pale and shifting, a sign of a realms dissolution I had seen many times before.

It is a Fire feeling that sits within me, flush with assertion. 

Joshua comes out, and we enter the space, feeling into our authenticity, into our voices and questions.  I know it’s related to the threads in the ether around our receipt by the people.  That we are investigating the truth beneath our presentations to. the world.  How we truly, authentically wish to express ourselves.

It. is deeply important, for it is tied to the shameless honesty of the Mythica.  Of what I feel is the virtue of our telling and it’s alchemy, and it brings up a lot.  As we speak, we reflect on how we’ve questioned if the fierceness of our presentation, if the setting of the boundaries of right conduct in a masculine way will be regarded – if we’ll be received in our authenticity.

“Remember what happened between you and Hjeron last time we were in Faerie” he says.  As he speaks, I feel the impression of it.  A conflict had gone between my kinbrother and I where both had felt disrespected, and it had hovered around authenticity.

“Remind me” I say.

“He had told you that he felt the Mythica would be better received if you changed your writing a certain way, and you had told him you were going to stick with your authenticity.  He had turned to you and said ‘maybe you’re not ready to receive this’.”

I remembered.  I remembered how I had responded.  How i’d felt the authenticity of my Art  unrespected and spoken down to.  I had gotten fierce with Hjeron over it.  Like so many things, it related to my sense of right-conduct.  Of Kings speaking to Kings with mutual respect.  When he had said ‘maybe you’re not ready to receive this’, i’d felt an assertion.  An attempt to dominate me, to establish his position.  I didn’t like it.  It did not feel the respect of the round table, of meeting each other in mutual recognition, and stank of the old world.  Of old Kingship and the rotting corpse of the medieval masculine. 

Even still, I approached him from a place of resolution.  There was a healing that could be had around the Divine Masculine, and I did my best to clear it within myself, to clear whatever lay within me that was reflected back across the field.  I had spoken to him across the table, reaching for emotional authenticity in shared fellowship, and felt a wall.  Later, my offerings of the Mythica, meant to enhance all the peoples of Faerie, were unregarded.  It had felt an enormous lack of proper technique.  Of the conduct that honors the mystery of mutual unveiling.

“It IS about authenticity” I say to Joshua.  “It’s about being truly shameless, about really ALLOWING ourself to fall into our natural gravity.  My Art has always been about authenticity at it’s core.  The photos, the videos, my expression ..everything.  While I appreciate the ideas of marketing in the field, there is a valor to being True to one’s self.  It attracts those who can taste it’s honey as their own.  I disagreed with him then and I stick to it now.  My feeling is that we should simply present ourselves as we really feel, and in so doing, resolve the pattern within and listen for what wants to come forth in that resolution.”

“Sometimes i’m afraid that I won’t be received if i’m too fierce” he says.

“Yet you ARE.” I say.  “Such is part of your Aspect.  Of our shared aspect in the field.  I’ve seen you unveil your voice time and time again in service to what’s right.  We both have.”

He nods.

“It’s our Truth.  What we really say behind the camera, and Truth is the strongest of magics.  It is the honesty of being human, of allowing what wants to come through to breathe.  To express itself in it’s fullness.  In a world of lies and manipulations, it’s the gold beneath the grime.”

He feels me.  We spend a bit more time talking about the mechanics of our upcoming movement, and move towards our invocations for the day.

I am still flush with the assertion as I send a communique to Lord Jordan in the realms of Cascadia, wishing to connect.  He explains that he is terribly busy, which I understand.  Yet while he is busy, I express that it would be worthy for us to drop in, and send him a message across the ethers of the internet saying. –

“Brother.  Right now … we’re about to open the gates of the Mythica. The Mythica provides a window into the world of magic, the realms of Faerie and Her inhabitants and the various ways in which our threadlines connect. YOU are a Lord of that realm and as a paladin of that realm, I am led to send word to you over what I am doing.

My sense is that the majority of the clans do not yet understand what i’m on about or how it helps them. So, in reaching out to you as a fellow lord, I am (from my vantage) showing graciousness and generosity, wishing to showcase to you what’s going on so that I can add light & expansion to your thing as well as receive light and expansion from what you bring to the table.

However … this can’t happen if people don’t REGARD what i’m saying as important. I’m not saying that you don’t have responsibilities to your kingdom brother. I’m saying that as a King myself, one who is in service to Avalon in the highest of ways *and* to the support of the people of the realm, that I would appreciate it if you received my envoy in this way.”

As I finish the letter, a wondering comes to me, a question as to whether or not i’ve actually dissolved the barrier that has blocked me from being received.  I wonder if my actions are futile, if I shall be ignored or forgotten, in a repetition of the olde pattern.  Not for the first time, I consider if my invocations are simply unbalanced, that I must settle into the Yin, not offer the hand of fellowship and be ignored by those I am trying to include.

I breathe into it, feeling into the thrill that I might be receiving at the expression of my subconscious spell.  After a while, I make my way to the local alchemist in search of some more medicine.

As I make my way to the alchemists shoppe I take counsel with Ed Thurlow, my fellow druid guardian, connecting with him via the internet to his home in Norfolk, England.

It is always a good thing, to have counsel with the Aka of the Earth and the Hearth that expresses itself through Ed.  His connection to the song of the World Tree is strong and true, and his influence cools me, reminding of the softer palettes of the Green that have been so far from the realms of Fire and Air that i’ve traveled across the underlands of the Mythica.

Not surprisingly, I pass the Druid street sign as we speak, the Aka of our Aspects revealing itself on the surface of the worlds.

I am still resonant with the opening over the Divine Masculine with Joshua from earlier in the day, flush with the feeling of boundary and assertion as we speak.  He feels it, questioning me over it’s nature in our conversation, feeling into the tones beneath the surface of the world.  I tell him of my communique to Lord Jordan, my fellow avatar of the Faerie realms, and my request for a shared drop-in where I had felt disregarded, and how i’d presented my envoy as a matter of courtesy between our Kingdoms in service to the larger whole.

I had no contest with Jordan.  He done me no overt wrong.  I simply wanted the pattern to change.  For so long my wish to share and be in alliance with my fellows, to grant them the gift of the Mythica, to weave our stories together in harmony and sovereignty had long been ignored.  It was a thing in my field that I had long wished to resolve.  One transcendent of his individual avatar, rooted in the substance of my subtle self.

Over the years, I had tracked the pattern through my soma as best as I could, doing and continuing to do the work to change the causal basis for why I was experiencing that condition.  It had been a point of deep Fire for me, agitating within and feeling unreceived in the Gift and nobility in which I arrive.

“Just .. just let it go brother” Ed advises, the tones of his gardens and groves deep and resonant beneath his voice.

I respond with the edge of my sword, drawing a line across the ethers.  Not to him, but in the sands of the worlds.  One declaring the refusal to accept the way in which my reality had been reflecting.  I could feel the Fire beneath my words, the alchemy of my beingness churning with desire, an intentional movement to perform the alchemies that changed that circumstance at last.

“Fire is necessary, brother.” I reply.  “It is one of the prime elements.  There is a larger alchemy going on in our conversation.  In the places where we meet.  Such is the necessary fuel.”

“It feels bitter” he says.

“It is.”

“Is that who you really are?”

I pause.  “It’s who i’m being right now.  While I recognize the desire for harmony in the field, and I know the bitterness of being unreceived is within my casting, I am in allowance.  Allowing the impression within my subconscious to revel in the fact of it’s bitterness as part of an invocation i’m doing.  I am finding the Joy in it through it’s expression.  There is a magic to it.  I am letting myself feel the fullness of the thing and it’s movement, trusting that the expression of my sensation will release it, bringing me into a place of harmony whereby I may weave a new pattern.  A new world.”

He listens, embodying the Green.  There is such depth to Ed’s intrinsic wisdom and I value him deeply.  It soothes me, and I feel the fields shifting between us.  The mutual recognition of each other’s elemental value in the Great Work.  It feels a harmony.  The kind of fellowship and telepathic resonance that I did NOT feel I was getting with certain other beings, that I had considered a lack of the noble fellowship required to transform the shadows back to bright.


“Perhaps it is simply not appropriate for them” he says.  “I have found that simply letting people come to the space to be more successful.”

I grin.  “Of course you’d say that.  You’re an Earth God.  A plant avatar.  Home and Hearth and all that.  Such is not my authenticity.  At least, not right now.  Nonetheless brother … I feel you.  I honor your voice across the table.  There is something to it though.  My intent is strong to share the Mythica with the avatars of the realms, for I know our shared voices are the key to the singing a new world into being.  I want to help.  It just gets to me when I feel ignored for so long.”

I pause then, breathing in the energies between us.  The sense of brotherhood, of druidic fellowship, the scent of the elemental world that we shared in our aspects across the underlands.  There was peace here.  I was being recognized by my fellow.  There was real recognition and shared effort.  While I had not yet been able to connect with some of the other avatars, I reminded myself that the temple had not yet been finished … that the etheric structure had not been in place and there had been no place for the people to land.

“I feel you brother.” I say.  “I know there is Fire.  Yet such is the thing which fueled the creation of the Mythica, and it is a noble thing.”

He bows across the ethers.  I can feel it beneath what looks like a phone conversation. on the surface of the world.

“Perhaps what you offer is necessary for me” he replies, after a pause.  “A balance of Fire to my Earth.  I appreciate your avatar as well.”

We end in harmony, as we have always done, recognizing each other’s Aspect and Value across the ethers.  It is a good feeling.  A feeling of resonance.  Of the round table in it’s embodied state.  With a smile, I make my way back. to the Wizards Cottage

After the conversation with my druidic brother across the ocean, I get the inspiration to pull a card. 

Flush with mana, I head outside, opening the space with the 5 elements and then consciously embrace the deck in the field of my awareness, cradling her, open to her wisdom as a dialogue with the universe.

Feeling myself in the magic, I run my finger over the edges until it feels right, then pull The Hermit.

Immediately I feel a sense of significance, a reflection of Joshua and I in the Aka of the Hermit, just coming back to the World FROM the Underworld and the trinary Divinity of Cerebus.  A feeling that we have embodied a sacred semination of the egg of the Mythica to embody our own philosophers stone comes through as the shafts of holographic light feel to be the emergent of a new pattern in our wake.  Further, the stalks of what I assume are corn feel to be a sign of abundance, the Gift from the underworld of the Mythica bringing plenty to the surface world.

It is so inspiring. I feel the portals opening up, our imminent movement towards the Western shores.  There is a sense of our own groundedness, of the Mythica invocation resonating with hard-won coherence.

Joshua informs me that he received his Thoth tarot deck, and we share our curiosity at the correlation between this artifact of divination as constructed by the magicians of an earlier time and the structure of the Akashic Compass and it’s function in revealing the underlands of the World Tree.

It is so beautiful to listen to Joshua.  Each of us carries a piece of the spell of Opening for the Worlds.  Unlike myself, he carries the impressions of geomancy and the hermetic arts of the material plane within his form.  The way in which he sees things is such a beauty then, for it embodies a refined harmonic of the practices of the Incarnate.  Such is part of the deep mythos of our interaction, relating to my embodiment of the raw siddhi and his of earthwise experience that forms the pillars of the Mythica invocation.

As night falls, I go deep into consideration of my fellows in the realms of Faerie.  How could I best align myself to grant the Gift of the Mythica? What did I need to do to cross the octaves of the rainbow bridge?

My attempts to find alliance with Lord Oberon inspire a vision, a remembrance of moments from my Path connected with the the modern-day incarnations of the peoples of Avalon along the journey.

My Purpose flared within me.  I longed to unite the stories of Faerie.  To bring recognition and revenue to the people through the portal of the Mythica, fulfilling my service to the Goddess.  While I had gradually come to recognize the rarity of my journey along the rainbow bridge and the worlds I had visited upon the Tree, my efforts were always in service to that larger ideal.

I had built the Mythica FOR them, in many ways.  To show them the angel’s gaze upon our shared stories.  To reveal the ways in which we were all connected through the boughs and branches of the World Tree.  More, I had created the Mythica as a portal, to lead the Readers to the pantheon of avatars I met along the Quest.  To offer avenues of revenue for them and the transmission of their sacred offerings through the magic of story.

It was the song of Value redeemed, and it drove me with a lion’s gait.  There was so much magic amongst the tribes.  So many tales and tinctures, archetypes and wonder that embodied across our shared mythos.  I could see so clearly the intrinsic Value of my fellows, our shared incarnation as the bards of the modern world and the power of that embodiment to remind the people of the Commonwealth of their own legend.  To honor them, to reveal the Great Story that connected us all and provide a space for the new story was intrinsic to my character.  It was the impetus of my own angel in the clay, and I ached for it’s resolution.  For the victory of the abundance and the sharing of it’s treasures across the realms, helping us all to rise.

To not be recognized in this service was an olde wound for me, one that burned within my heart.  It was not simply about my personal desire for connection, I longed to help them.  To do what I could to remember the World anew.

It had frustrated me for years.  Innocent to the mortal plane, I had no concept of why we did not See each other in bright clarity, and so I had been deeply confused and frustrated that I was unheard.  That my efforts felt unseen, my many invitations to sit at the table together unmet.

I breathed into it.  It hurt, yet age and experience had taught me that such things were part of the mortal plane.  Part of the necessity of inner alchemy to clear one’s portion of the distortion afflicting the field as well as the perseverance required to build a means of connecting with the people that reached their realm upon the Tree.

At last, that time had come.  The Mythica’s armature was constructed and the story-spell of alchemical journaling was humming with Grace.  Whether my envoy to Lord Jordan was premature or not time would tell.  Breathing into acceptance, I continue the process of finding the kink in the conditions, to embody the unconditional Love for my part in the Great Story.

The mystical inspiration continues into the night, as Joshua and I share our experiences around the various techniques we’d been using to shift our reality, including our excitement over the results of the Existential Kink invocation to our arsenal of freedom.