The Heart of Faerie
A tale of the Mythica from the point of view of mystical adventurer Joshua Blake, as he journeyed into the realms of Faerie with Peter Fae, during the culmination of an initiation into the lands Cascadia during his training in the arts of magick…
It was a rich time of potential, the harvest thick in the air. Following the gathering of the faerie royals at the Wynden Keep for the Equinox honoring the full moon, we prepare to honor the invitation we were granted to join in the celebrations of the festival for the realm, Faerie Worlds. Peter Fae and I journey with the Wyndens to Horning’s Hideout, riding out with Raven just as the Myth Makers are departing for Burning Man.
I glance back at the pentagram encircled above the keep, appreciating this hearth as the modern incarnation of a docking port along the rainbow bridge between the realms, situated between the Emerald City of Eugene, the Deadwood Forest, and the connect to Faerie Worlds. Driving through the winding roads of Oregon upcountry, we descend deeper into the forest. I knew not what awaited… but was excited to discover the journey ahead.
Arriving, we are unexpectedly granted VIP passes, allowing full access to the realm. We see it as a reflection of our virtue, as we are here in service to the realms, weaving the Great Story that connects us in the portrait of our Awakening. The resonances of royalty and revere kiss the air, as we walk the path of privilege, thankful for the blessing from the recognition of our characters by the graciousness of Amelio.
We had encountered him in the previous chapter at a gathering of the elvish royals, where I first met him. Peter had known everyone for years, and had offered to introduce me in 2016 when we first met through lady Krystleyez at the roundtable of Crestone near the Spine of the Dragon mountain.
Peter turns to me as we cross the lake, “Its so beautiful, to walk this royal path deeper to Faerie. It is our proper place, as paladins. I’m so glad that you’ve come this far.”
My training with Peter for years had prepared me, where we forged a fellowship tempered by progression from the deserts of yang to the gardens of yin. The temperance of fellow knights on the quest, and a mentorship through which I had gained the power to chronicle my mystical adventure.
Throughout, the realm is constructed, and he shares of the what appears on the surface as the build is really woven of the deeper threads of the green, of virtue, fellowship, and prayer, performance and offering, held by the bosom of the trees. On my journey deeper into the Mythica, I came to see such things as spells, woven of these threads of intention, that manifest on the surface planes as worlds themselves.
Scrying upon the inner compass of divination, an unfolding dreamspell of interpretation came into view… thankful as I was to arrive in the realm of the Mythica that was the faerie bardic, the royal and the free, a place of fellowship and easement, freedom and connection, where I could share in song and story.
The VIP Lounge
We encounter Kelly Lopez, a Queen of the Fae, who invites us to the VIP lounge. She gazes out in wonder, listening to the Land, softening to receive the voice of Faerie.
She shares a story of how her bird friend came to her, Pier. He was injured and came to her along the way, nestling into her mothering energy to receive healing. Glancing at her moon pendant, I sense the power of the feminine grace moving through her as a guardian of faerie.
Her and Amelio started Faerie Worlds years ago, inspired by their connection with Bryan Froud’s World of Faerie, whose book appeared shortly after we were invited. It first came into my field in 2016 at an alchemical magic shoppe on the way to Tribal Vision Festival. I opened it to this page in the library of Wynden Keep after my eyes were drawn to it after the gathering. This, synchronistically features a painting inspired by Kelly.
Of course, everything happens with divine purpose. The very whispers of spirit appearing through the signs upon our path, guiding us deeper towards the revelation of our story. I felt this very much then, as the sense of mystery pierced me through the veil into surrender to my destiny.
Feeling the Threads of Fate
Returning to the forest to rest, I reflect on the magick I’ve been learning to see within the Mythica, by witnessing the constellations of synchronicity unveil. The threads of fate that weave together within the interwoven lattice of our connections upon the Earth, the World Tree. This realm is one within the infinite possibilities of creation, and arriving here is no accident, but rather the expression of natural law, the physics of the Quest.
The Akasha is the everything
She holds the stars of you and me
When we look upon the strands
We see where we’re connected
And in this great wide expanse
Holds the substance of all that is
Every form that ever was
Came from this great ocean
It lands to earth through ways so grand
Taking shape as the very land
The world tree upon which we stand
From that which we are extensions
From its clay is shaped the world
When we deepen we can sense it
The roots and branches that extend
Reflecting our shared constellations
Discovering the stage at the center of the gathering, I stop for a moment, feeling my dream. The guiding vision that had led me this far. To travel the transformational festivals and eco-villages, sharing my story and songs. I think, one day I will play here…
The faerie market comes to view as we climb the hill, meeting Harmony, a dakini, who shares the tone of service to the magick. Peter spoke to her of bowing, of the redemption of value through the visceral application of appreciating others as aspects of our own Self.
Behind the stage, the crew prepares for the opening ceremony. Here, I see Marla McClain, holding the fruits of the Mother, resplendent in the tones of kindness and family. Beneath, I feel her as an expression of the Goddess, in proper form for service to the People.
As we look through the lens of the Mythica, the archetypical quality of character embodied is the more constant emanation.
Coming to the front of the stage, the people are gathered, as I gaze in wonder to the rainbow array present. Bubbles rise up in synchrony, apropos.The invocation opens, in honor to the realms, to unite the elements and directions.
Then the circle dance opens! We join hands and dance to a spiral in the center of the field where the elements were united. Spirited joy and fellowship rings throughout the space triumphantly and playfully.
We spiraled round the center, along the rainbow road deeper into Faerie.
A full color spectrum of expression in connection to the Circle of Life.
The Rainbow Dragon
Wandering forward across the field with camera hoisted, called by the flush of the moment in intuition, I witness a rainbow dragon unveils through the bend of the bubble a mere moment before it pops.
I wondered, how does this relate to the nature of perception? We experience our witnessing through the lens of the self. As its shape changes so does our path. A living colorscape of creation, the manifestation of our own witnessing reflected through the prism of the self.
Further on, I encounter Peter Fae and the McClains, as we travel across the rainbow road to a new part of the realm.
Amidst good family of the rainbow, held by the tones of the forest, Noah dawns a mushroom cape, as the impression of the dragon arises through son and book alike.
Into the night we are led, to honor the birthday of a brother as Fooble the Dragon comes to life in a show of puppet and play.
Looking through the lens of the Mythica, what’s more consistent is the quality of the impression. The dragon appearing in a string of synchronicities is a reflection of that archetypical impression in the underscape of the akasha, the vibrational landscape of the quantum field, through which we move across the Landscapes of Legend.
Tracing my way back across the lake to the lounge I see Jesse Wynden, dawning the drum as gypsy King. Flashes cross my inner eye of escapades of old, pirates devoted to nothing but the sea… “You are that too,” He once said to me, as I sensed it in the Akasha.
What an honor it has been to share space at his stead of the Wynden Keep, a port of the rainbow bridge to the sanctity of the Land held as sacred by her Guardians. His medicine carries wynd and root, many a travel to find his way to the sacred ground of Family and Honor in Abundance and Service.
Full Moon Magicks
The morning comes to the full moon, as I breath to the rhythm of the forest, drawing gratitude throughout and invoking alignment with the Land through shifting my inner asana, and moving from that intention.
Drawing upon the breath of the forest through my lungs, cultivating the life force in the quietude of the trees, flowing the energies through the roots of my nervous system into the earth and out through the branches of my energy field, kissing awake the textures fo the Aina. Cleansing and clearing my mind, for a flow of vitality to move through me, I followed this state.
Coming to the fields of green, I cast a spell drawing on the energies of the moon.
Cast a telling, tell it true
Tell it as you dance round the moon
Full of light and splendor
You’ll be left to wonder
Wandering amidst the shifting hues
The rainbow bridge of me and you
To infuse this highest alchemy
And step into your Destiny.
We walk the roads of gold and green
Between the seems of waking reality
Into a wyrd, a ward and away
We afford to live in our highest bliss
To dance upon the moon and stars
To remember who we really are.
Led across the skin of the Land, bliss fills me. A supreme sense of being right where I am meant to, with the Seed Within blooming, as my dreams are coming true. Peter and I intersect near the VIP lounge, where he stand clad in royal gold, a King returning home to faerie. I couldn’t have done it without him, the wisdom he’s shared and the codes of light he carries in service to the Awakening. We each carry the puzzle pieces to each-other’s evolution and expansion, as aspects of a shared tone within the collective consciousness. We share for a moment in mutual appreciation, bowing to one another and to the sacred waters, honoring the Source of Life.
I hear Yaima playing in the distance, its a divine confluence, as their music has been part of my return to devotion and Love, arising especially in the Gardens of Encinitas. Reminding me of the sacred dream being lived awake, along my journey deeper into the Mythica.
Beneath, rewilding reverberates, weaving with the heart of our Return. The feeling reminding me of the Grandmother Vine. The clearing I received from Ayahuasca in years past preparing and cleansing my rainbow bridge to embody the sacred mystery.
At the stage, I listen, hearing the undulations beneath the surface. The softness and sanctity, the communion and listening to the Trees, that plays through the hollow reed of Yaima. An ephemeral remembrance of our Origin. I see it in the Mythica…
Raven arrived, totem bared upon her hair, balancing the energies between earth and sky, above and below.
Throughout the gathering she acted as a Matron, a High Priestess in service to the land and people. A royal of the Way.
That sanctified element of ceremony, of family and hearth, had all been such a gift that flows through her. A Mother of Magick, and a Witch of the Wyrd.
Golems, Trolls, Dakini, Oh My!
Faerie smashers, goblins trying to catch children, golems…the festivities have just begun.
Walking on, a mural catches my eye leaned against a tree, none other than the work of Krystleyez, who first introduced me to Peter Fae in the Spine of the Dragon.
Here, I meet a Dakini with whom I exchange prose and song in ways of old, the tones of the gypsy resting beneath our seat in the forest.
“I first met Peter when I was but a maiden and he a prince.” She said, leading me through a port in the Faerie market, where on the other side I join back with Peter.
As the night descends, I find Peter and through some good rainbow family we get gifted a couple magic mushroom chocolates. Wandering through the faerie market wondering where and when to invoke them, we stumble right into a mushroom portal! Seeing a rainbow phoenix at the toast before the faerie ball, Jesse said it was a sign, so we headed up the hill and down the hatch, with a prayer of course. Sacred. The nymphs and imps were most pleased.
“Its like the movie Stardust.” Peter says, as we overlook the faerie market illuminating the darkness.
Dancing at the Faerie Ball
Lights flash on the stage, as the music opens. Approaching, Peter and I look to each other. “Let’s do this.” He says with a smile.
Falling to the gravity of the moment, the magick of dance flows through me.
Every breath, every movement, every moment, a living prayer, an act of devotion. My awareness expanded in resplendence, connected, uplifted, righteous and noble. All the alchemies and spells I’ve been working finding grounding in the garden of my being.
Download on the right use of power…that as we align with our divine design, the activation of the innate gifts that wish to come through us do.
My lion comes out, feeling the weaving of the aka threads of virtue, alignment, balance and devotion while drawing on the elements and in deep movement through the realms, with every step and movement one of a wielding. Stabilizing the realm through my alchemy, a coalescing of all my castings thus far.
It is a deep witnessing, that of the power of the Aina flowing through me as I expand into a new level of access and vitality.
Pixie the bee keeper and potion maker invites us into his hive, to share the medicine of honey.
As I gaze at the description of the potions, the letters morph to reveal layers beneath, like a magical book from Harry Potter.
Standing in the dirt road between the booths, two kin clad in fur from the northern lands of Canada arrived scenting of bear and snow, offering me mead as a sign of camaraderie, they had brewed with their own honey, herbs and spring water from the sacred lands they steward.
I take a look in the back, where the scent of passion is potent, and decide not to go into that realm, but reconnect with the Mother Earth for healing and restoration.
Laying out beneath the stars, she unveils a tapestry of stories, the birth of a new earth. A tale woven of us as the gods and goddess of a tale of redemption and healing, here to steward the seeds to the garden of our awakening.
I saw that the realm that calls itself Faerie Worlds is woven from the threads of the Great Tree, that of honoring the deva, the sacred mysteries, of performance and art, all coming together in the roots and branches that form this reality.
Rise of the Rainbow Phoenix
She arrives, whom we had only glanced, providing sacred sign to invoke the Deva by the portal to the mushroom kingdom. She bears the energy of our Collective Rise as a Rainbow Tribe, molting away the skin of the old paradigm to be reborn. What nobility of embodiment, such royalty, to which our encounter is but brief, I still bow, seeing the significance of the moment.
Until it is that we may carry on, as Peter offers a write up in the journal to get us two mead tickets, so middle earth. To the Oberon’s Tavern we go, exchanging story for liquid luster.
Approaching the backstage, I encounter John, the diligent guard between the realms of the stage, Oberon’s Tavern and the troll bridge. He tells me that he’s been steadfast keeping peace in the area for the last three days, 18 hours each. A true champion of the realm.
He tells me that he once experienced all his organs failing and was unable to walk. Standing perfectly healthy before me, an elder man, I asked him if there was a spiritual shift that healed him.
He replied, “Yes, there was.”
Curiously, I asked, “What was it?” following the scent of my intuition.
Coming to the front of the stage I witness Kelly and Amelio closing out the space with their musick, the elvish vibrations elucidating a dreamlike state. Their service is so honored, received by the People and met with appreciation, a ceaseless devotion tended to this spark of the divine.
A download comes to me then… Honor the Realm. When you honor your Self, you honor the other Aspects of the Collective Consciousness that are You. When you heal the wound of Value, you can receive your Self in all its wondrous and beautious expressions.
Led across the lake to the backstage, I arrive in perfect time to witness Jesse and Noah, the lights coloring between, painting the prismatic radiance of the middle earth of their prayerformance.
Shadows arise in the beds of the forest, arising from the depths of olde, wounds of the broken circle that I then must face…forgiveness, for all the war and suffering. So much my heart can hardly bare, tears running down my face. Peter arrives to hold a healing space, helping me through to the other side.
Then….something immense clears, openings me to new realms, as I walk the night alone.
THE GODDESS SPEAKS… “Check your magical inventory, it’s filled with blessings. I’ve given you all you need to fulfill your destiny, now what will you do with it?”
Reflections of Avalon
I walk the sacred Land as the sun rises over the still lake, the realm grown to silence. A pristinely beautiful expansion opens to me, an immaculate sense of peace, love and bliss… a realm of Heaven on Earth, as I listen to the song of the Land, feeling her flush and alive with the magick of all that came before.
Here, I have a vision of the future commonwealth, of a world where abundance is common and everyone values each-other for their intrinsic emanation. Basic needs are provided, sustainability is achieved, and we are free to live our lives as spiritual adventures of offering our gifts and exploring our potential.
Passing the Magdalene, I meet Peter at the crossroads, an intersection of leylines, sensing the the Mythica beneath the surface.
“You’re in search of the Cup, that of compassion.” I say, as he shares he had lost a cup of a priestess and was looking for it, yet, feeling it was a surface vessel for something much deeper.
“Its true. It’s my balance, that of the Love. I have Excalibur, and I’ve seen the Grail.”
He elaborates, “It’s the alchemy of that distilled within the self, the sword of discernment, the grail of love, the wand of spirit, the coin of the commonwealth. These embodied aspects are the emporor, and the embodied self.
The balance point at the crusade. Even as we stand here at this cross roads, there is a sense across the underlands of the Mythica, a clarity of what just came through, feels like the Druidic elemental balance. I can feel that deeply. It’s that sense of grounding those aspects.
The balance of the sword and the chalice. It has to be aligned, you can feel in the vibrations. This is an archetypical story point.
When we’re really on it, we’re in a speaking relationship with the universe. We are in an ongoing dialogue with the Deva of the current reflection of our self.”
As we walk, the sense of the modern roundtable arises, of our shared harmonic in service to Gaia.
Returning to the camp, the Millennial Gaia appears in his inventory.
“We have to be on the Quest. It’s bigger than us.”
As we go to leave, the land calls me once more, revealing a reflection in the lens, the rainbow bridge between Heaven and Earth.
As I’m packing up, the land reminds me in subtle whispers, tones of guidance, you are an emissary of Faerie. Part of a much larger Pantheon. A bridge between the human and nature kingdoms…