“Sanctuary of Mirrors” | Into the Mythica

"Sanctuary of Mirrors" – March 15, 2020

Sanctuary from the Storm

The harmonic of our triad continues to grow as Misty offers sanctuary in her temple for us as the quarantine approaches. Yeshua gathers his items from our encampment within the greenbelt and we start making plans for a potential few months of shared space.

As the covid 19 quarantine makes it’s way to Austin, we leave the sanctuary of the temple to head to the grocery to gather supplies. Like so many of the people across the Americas, we are unsure of just what is going on, at how long things will be this way.

A strange tension fills the field as we move through the market, noticing empty shelves already picked clean by those hunkering down for the wait. In this we are no exception as we make our way through the halls with a donation of $100, intent on gathering as much we can for our own strategy of isolation.

The Quiet Streets

And I feel it. I feel the Opening. Grabbing my phone, I witness a few photos of her and I on the walk, feeling the energies that we share across the underlands. A window to the Mythica opens, and I feel the tones of violet majesty, and starlight patterns. Of emergent expression and embodiment. Her voice emerges, more and more, and thus I see us arrive in a place of shared inspiration.

Hearth and Home

While tensions continue to mount in the realms outside of the sanctuary, our triad breathes a collective sigh of relief. It is a thing I feel so strongly in the akasha, that we have been granted a respite, a time to rest and rejuvenation, holdingd the space of the void such that new ideas may enter our beings.

Once again I see Yeshua dropping into his meditations, continuing his movement and discipline. It causes a stirring within me, bringing up my resistance to the nature of earth and the necessity of practices once again.

The Hogwarts Initiation

Everything is magic. Every little moment, every amnesia, every remember. There is grace in the details. As we continue our sanctuary and seclusion in the temple, I receive an inspiration to share with Misty the ‘Harry Potter’ series of movies….

“So … you want to watch one of the Harry Potters with me?” I ask her.

“I’ve never seen them” she replies.

For me, the fact that she hasn’t seen the Harry Potter movies is simply another sign of her grace and purity.

I feel into the lands beneath the land, sensing the tones of hearth and healing.

I walk the streets of the Cherrywood with the Odom, feeling the energies of the towne. A deep fear and anxiety is thick in the space, yet I feel comfort, a sense that we are on a string of synchronicities that affords a genuine easement through the shifting tones of the surface plane.

The quarantine continues to mount across the realms. All through the akasha I can feel the panic moving through the consciousness. Yet while such moves through the outer fields, we exist in sanctuary, in the warm air, flush with alliance and opening.

It is then a griffin appears, nestled in the hollows of a sculpted tree.

I smile, feeling the land speaking to me, reminding me of the ripples that have shaped my story.

The totem of the griffin is so significant, it’s glyph repeating themselves across the Akasha . It was during the death of my father that it first came to me, rolling on ecstasy in a citywide ritual with the Faerytale Brigade.

Flashback 2009 – “2009-6-13 – Faerie Roads“

My days as Griffin Fae were epic times. Flush across the realms and octaves of Faerie. Where i’d moved through the Olde World along the rainbow road, meeting the avatars with whom I shared the impressions of Avalon, Herself.

In 2013 I had shifted back to Peter, my given name in the Earth plane, yet the essence of the griffin remains always, part of the repertoire of my Aspect.

Flashback 2017 – Agents of the Akasha “

The last time the griffin had appeared within the field had been in 2017, showing itself in the walls of a venue called ‘Akasha’ on the Island of the Gods.

The appearance of the griffin was a potent happenstance, reflecting back to me the substance of my story. Then, as now, it reminded me of my place and purposing, a guardian of sharp eyes and dawning wings, in service to the Worlds within the World.

I had shifted my name then, invoking the qualities of fierceness and valour, of the realms of the Fae and the free, into my field.

More and more I am coming to see Misty’s magic. As the fields clear, our Aspects become more visible, more able to be perceived and received across the substance of the akasha.

There was an erudite fierceness to her. A willingness to search out the truth and stand by it. Like me, she possessed the aspect of the bardic. Of speaking the law in being.

Constantly she worked with the Words. Teasing them, moving them through the razor discretion that was her aspect. Bringing the declarations and invocation of value into balance.

The Cat totem is so strong with Misty. The protective lioness, patrolling the edges of the rainbow road in her cloak of many colours. It is the thing shared by Yeshua and myself, a pack of holy guardians armed with roars of remembrance.

The Realms of Hearth & Home

I scry with the compass. It shows me a glimpse of the underlands, the resonant archetypical energies that we exist in within in this location. As I gaze, glyphs appear in the matrix. I’m shown the glyphs of the root and heart chakras within that same temple space.

To be in this manifestation fills me with a sense of profound gratitude, bolstering my efforts to maintain sovereignty over my vibrational state while quarantine covers the countries of the World. Within, a sense of deep accomplished purpose fills me, my heart emboldened by the recognition of the many victories we have had on the Quest.

So many times, we wondered about where we would stay, about whether or not we’d have enough money for food and shelter. Yet while the questions were many, over experience we saw that Divinity supported us, that through our efforts ot inner clearing we were moved forward by a greater benevolence. It wasn’t easy, by any means, yet it was there, subtly moving us forward. With such in mind, I know that while I cannot say what the future will bring, I know for sure that my best efforts are spent fulling my devotion to Story in the truestory of the Quest.

In this, the Mythica invocation expands. More and more the writing comes to cohesion. Spelling the tale into form. I see the tendrils of the spellwork, the long ago weaving of the akash manifesting in the realm in which I find myself today.

There’s such a grand feeling to it. I’m in it. In the invocation of a Story of real adventure. Weaving alongside the other Authors of the Mythica to ground the magic into form. To show the way along the rainbow road. Able at last to breathe into the writing, funneled through the architecture of the Mythica.

I feel my heart align as I write this. Subtle threads of the akasha shifting, changing the shape of my lens. It’s a beautiful sensation. One that feels deeper into myself. My true self, that lay beneath the shifting waves of that inner ocean. To be in the movement, where the threads are aligning all across the field, is the thing itself, and with that my body breathes a sigh of relief. A sense that I have at last grounded the Gift of the Mythica enough to root into the Commonwealth.

Our time in this realm is healing us. Balancing out the constant invocation of yang fortitude for it’s cooling opposite. The yin of the great tides that soothes and reminds. As the forces within my form come to balance, my lens shifts, and I see more of what is around me in the space. The relevancy unfolds, and with it, the grounding into the Earth plane long-sought over the Quest.

In the underlands, this plays out in parallel with the feeling that we have finally reached the brightlands of the Hearth and Home. Of Family. A place of safety, acceptance and sanctuary, where we feel connected to a resonance of shared harmony.

I feel the healing in this. So deeply. So very, very deeply. Like the easement of scrawling our journeys through the Mythica, it is a sign of accomplishment. To be in the manifestation of the realm long-sought is the fullest of feelings.

The Natural Wonder

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While it appears to be a walk through the greenbelt near the temple, in the Mythica it is much more. Such is merely the surface expression of a great confluence. As we move through the Green, I feel our energies aligning, the trine of our libran aspects resonating with harmony.

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Pressure & Release

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I received a communique from Dan Walsh, one of my most longstanding allies,currently living in the realms of New Yorke during the outbreak of the covid virus.

“How are you holding up during the quarantine?” I ask him.

“Oh i’m at ground zero” he says. “The hospital I work at is overflowing with cases. I have to wear a mask to work and clean all the instruments.”

“Sounds like when the towers fell in 2001.”

“Totally. It’s crazy here. We went from 4,000 to 20,000 cases within days.”

I feel the energies of the akasha, the threads of the Great Story beneath our words. Immediately a loom of connections divines across my mindseye. I see the devic energy of harmony and equanimity that moves through Walsh. His ability to be steadfast in his vibration in the middle of a blossom of mortal terror and paranoia.

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah … yeah.” he says easily.

I’m not surprised. Walsh was a crucial ally of mine when I lived in New Yorke at the beginning of the millennium. Like the other avatars who’d stayed in touch over the years, his Aspect in the Mythica was that of the sacred bard and healer, holding the beat steady amongst a raging world.

I am honoured to see him in this matter. Holding his sovereignty of vibration within the chaos and uncertainty. While so many fret and conjecture over what could be, he stands within the epicenter of fear and holds his ground.

A vision moves through me, I see his placement through the Akasha. Lines of Divine intelligence work through him, placing him like us in the right circumstance to attend the unfoldments as they occur, each of us facing the front line of our own movement across the realms.

The difference in our external realms is vast. To be in the madness of an overflushed hospital in New York, ground zero of a nationwide crisis, is a far cry from being surrounded by loving family and expansion within the gardens of the Sacred Mirror Temple.

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Feline Family

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You should come outside“ she says to me,. I can feel the care of the feline majesty beneath her voice purring invitation.

I stop what I’m doing, putting aside the rendering of the realms of the Mythica for a moment to make my way outdoors.

Each of them is moving, in their own way. Moving towards a greater devotion to the body.

It is difficult to join them. I feel reactions come up within me. A medley of irritation and self-judgment. Intentionally, I shift, moving towards the realms of Dance.

I remember what it was like when I danced every day. When I put more focus into the physical form. Years of training in the movement and ritual arts that defined my place and purpose.

It’s been quite a journey since then. One that I resolve my own folly of self-judgment with as I face the reality of balancing the Earth with the Heaven within.

The focus of the Mythica paralleled my own journey from the transcendent crown of my higher perspective to the embodiment and acceptance of what it means to be human. Here, once again, I feel the ripples of that resistance to the earth plane, Made manifest.

I know that I stand in the shadow of the realms of dance and movement, where things are resolving within. As a journalist of The rainbow Road, I am thankful, or with the Mythica constructed I may use my own words to remind me into the victory of union with the land.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me” she says. “I’m not going to bind you, or capture you. I’m just here.”

Just last night, Misty shared the most soothing, of touches. It was a thing of deep magic, immediately bringing comfort. The softening tones of the feminine in her aspect. Fears did come up, manifesting as ripples of discomfort through my form, yet I held fast to my intent to surrender into trust. To make the transition deeper into the realms of that sanctuary.

The Spell is Working

It was working. The spell to anchor myself into the human plane through the writing was working! I could feel myself aligning with the practice. The yoga of it. Being the thing I needed to be to anchor the spell to Earth.

It’s a relief. While i’m deeply aware of the implicate service of the Mythica towards our global Awakening, first and foremost I build her to help me anchor my magic. To be in wielding with the gifts that shifted me across the many realities. Weaving it’s invocation, I was able to organize my consciousness. To bring the infinitude of the akasha into a cohesion. And in doing so, provide a framework that would help other aspects of the Self anchor their own movement across the realms.

To be in this circumstance, to actually feel the weaving of the spell in expression, coupled with the nurturing tones of the brightlands of family, is soothing. The tones of Yin, of the feminine divine, water through the space.

Like all things, it’s a divination on the Quest. As my heart relaxes, I see the lands beneath the land. How I traveled through the shadowlands of family for so long, had encountered so much disappointment and shadow, that I could not even remember what that safety even felt like.

Yet it exists here. More so than I have felt in many years. A sense of breath, of reciprocation and respect. The longer I rest in this place, the more I feel myself replenishing. Shifting the shape of my lens. Slowly, I start to remember how to breathe. To enter from a trusting place into the fields of the Creation.

As this happens, the compass clarifies for even more.

I drink it in, feeling myself able to breathe into my writing at last. A window opens into the akasha, and I see myself in 2010, intentionally choosing not to visit the realms of Fire that gave rise to Blackrock’s yearly appearance but rather to head to the northwest, such that I may go deeper into the realms of Water and Earth.

I needed that nurturing. The expressions of the primal deva of Water and Earth. Even through the storms I longed for it, that balance within which led to the manifestation without.

It’s been many years since that moment. Long and away, across a decade of travel across the akasha, finally reaching the place of that relationship with what is.

In this way I see again that God is the Doer. That the great unfoldment moves through us all, the waters of the akasha changing the droplets of the many selves. It is not lost on me that before these moments, before the soothing tones embodied by the Odom and our refuge of circumstance, I could not see the fullness of my own inspiration. Could not see for the rippling in my own lens of perception. Such is my own line of mystery across the landscapes of legend.