Touching Ground

There’s something significant in just posting into the Mythica. Something grounded. Simple. Something that wasn’t quite there before. It speaks volumes to my passage across the underlands, to the aka I face across the shadow back to the siddhi of the self.

It looks simple on the surface. Yet in the inner world it is so much more – where in the fugue of my awareness I see that such ‘simple’ acts were simply not available to me until this moment, the very idea of actually publishing barely touching ground.

In this there is divination, a query into the substance of things and the timing they blossom into the world, occurring as as gentle reminder of how defining my origin story has been in the unfoldment of the quest.

Seriously, one would think that just posting on one’s own sovereign platform would be easy. It is, after all, the nature of the temple herself, what I built her for, how she allows me to be a mythographer documenting my journey into the Mythica. To post through her regularly is the obvious action.

Yet it hasn’t happened.

Not before these moments.

Not until I reached a certain realm upon the quest. Not until i’d gained a certain aspect of the earth element and was finally stepping into a deeper level of embodiment.

It is an odd thing. Yet in this lay so much.

Like all aspects of the journey into the Mythica it happened on my timeline. About a month into my stay at the Olympiad, where the voices of the soil and the sky were gradually bringing me into focus, and where I shared space with a confluence of alchemists, magicians and kings on a land saturate with ley.

There’s a sensation here. Something that moves through me. That radiates with the remembrance of my self, which unveils treasures related to the very elements that surround me. I feel my shape changing, gaining a long-unfelt ground, and while there is tremor there is also transformation, revealing new aspects to my awakening eyes.

Case in point – Posting on the website. The most obvious thing, and the most simple, yet outside the grasp of my mind until this very moment, revealing in it’s wake the fae nature of my perspective and it’s madness and majesty within the world.

There are those who say that the way we do one thing is the way we do all things, that there is a constant within us that finds its way through all aspects of our passage.

To my mind there had to be the world before the forest, the forest before the canopy, the roots before the leaves. While I saw the seed of the post or the video in flickering glimpses of the space, my attention was fixed upon the larger form, so much so that the simplicity, the groundedness of connection to the people and the transmission of the tellings was barely an afterthought.

It wasn’t that I disrespected the idea. It was that from my coordinate of consciousness, the idea itself couldn’t be consistently seen. That which was made of the consistency of publishing, the very flow which defines the breath of the temple, was unseen, so absorbed was I in the architecture of the larger world.

Such a thing speaks to my nature. To the fae way I move through experience and the elements of that passage through experience. It speaks to a being rooted in the Sky whose point of origin defined a journey to an unknown Earth, whose very elemental essence made the most basic aspects of earth life a mystery. It speaks to the reason I created the Mythica in the first place, wielding the aka of story in a flush of narrative magic meant to ground me into an alien world.