Fields of Vitality – Initiations

There are times I wonder if it’s all worth it. If this whole idea of documenting the Quest is even possible. Whether the effort to show the underlying patterns of our souls within the soil and their passage through the Mythica can even come together.

It’s a worthy question, and even as I move through the landscape with Cassandra I consider what i’m actually doing, at the massive doses of trust, surrender and perseverance that have been required to even attempt such a thing.

It isn’t about the words. Not really. Like all things, it relates to something deeper – something intrinsic to the experience of being human, to being on the path itself, where the moments arrange in perfect timing to reveal the story that is our shared lives.

It is beautiful, to be in Jillian’s realm, reminding me of the sanctity and wholeness that exists in nature, away from the constant hammering WIFI and technocratic thoughtforms of Palo Alto, and I drink it in deeply, recognizing how much I have longed for this remembrance, to have my feet back on the bare earth. Yet while it is beautiful, the shuddering incoherence of my root chakra continues to splinter my consciousness, bringing up my lifelong question of how to ground my consciousness into the markets and mindspace of the current world.

I must heal this thing – must find a way to clear whatever has been assaulting me from within all these years and it’s constant effort to sabotage my efforts at connecting with the people.

The graphic on the thermos shows a human being held within the silouette of a phoenix, and for a moment my mind regards it as a sign of my own rebirth, a return to the land and the life-force that has been so difficult in the crush of betrayals, absence and grunt work driving an Uber simply to pay for the rental on the car every week so I can drive Cassandra around and have even a small degree of agency beyond the blistering limitations of the shadow-prison.

It is beautiful, yet somewhat hollow as I consider the nature of interpretation of signs and symbols as a context for shifting one’s vibrational substance rather than a true portent itself, bringing up the idea of whether things mean anything or if they simply mean what we assign to them in a constant bid to find the vibrational frequency of victory from the inside-out.

The doubt is real.