The Sacred Wound: A Journey Through Healing and Collective Transformation

An Akashic Library Dialogue between Peter Fae and Calliope

In the luminous expanse of the Akashic Library, Peter stood before a constellation of floating images that pulsed with different qualities of light—some warm and golden, others fragmented and scattered. Each photograph captured a moment from his journey as a healer, the progression visible in the shifting energies surrounding his hands across the decades.

"The nature of healing," he said to Calliope, who materialized beside him in her flowing blue robes, "became the foundation for understanding everything else. How trauma stores itself in the body, how individual and collective consciousness interweave, how the very act of healing others can simultaneously fragment the healer."

Calliope moved closer to examine an early image—Peter giving a simple massage, his hands working the physical tension in someone's shoulders. "Tell me about the beginning," she said. "When did you first realize you carried this gift?"

"It started with the most basic physical work," Peter replied, touching the edge of the photograph. The image rippled, revealing layers beneath the surface. "Massage, working with muscles and tension, very grounded in the body. But even then, there was something more moving through my awareness—an ambient field of consciousness that seemed to facilitate the healing."

He gestured, and another image floated forward, this one showing him in what appeared to be shamanic work, his hands glowing with subtle energy. "Over the years, it evolved. From physical manipulation to energetic channeling—working with animal spirits, elemental forces. Then into something even more refined."

"The progression deepened your understanding?" Calliope prompted.

"Each stage revealed new layers of how trauma actually functions." Peter brought forward a series of connected images, showing the evolution of his technique. "I developed this extraordinary sensitivity where I could touch someone and feel exactly where all the muscle threads connected. Just a soft touch at that precise point, and the entire pattern would unravel from that single contact."

Calliope studied an image showing Peter's hands positioned at specific points on someone's body, streams of light flowing between his fingers. "The Lomi Lomi work."mess

"Yes. I would hold different points and allow energy to channel between my hands, creating a circuit through their body. But what fascinated me was how this evolved into something even more subtle—the realization that my awareness itself was creating the field that allowed healing to occur."

He paused at a photograph that seemed to capture multiple dimensions simultaneously. "That's when I discovered the visceral substance of intention. It wasn't just a mental concept—intention had actual energetic mass that could hold and direct consciousness itself. This became fundamental to understanding the subtle arts, how spells actually work, how energy moves through ritual space."

"Like a precise science rather than mystical mystery," Calliope observed.

"Exactly. I could feel the ambient energies of consciousness, how they moved through space, held by the structure of intention itself. This understanding became central to my thesis about the nature of magic—it's not mysterious at all, but follows very specific laws."

Calliope brought forward another image, this one showing Peter reading from Joe Vitale's work on ho'oponopono. "But the healing journey expanded beyond working on others."

Peter's expression grew more complex. "2013. That's when I encountered the work of Dr. Ihaleakala Hew Len and the ho'oponopono practice. The idea that by healing the patterns within myself, I was taking responsibility for what I perceived in others. This reinforced my growing understanding that there's no real separation between self and other."

"The movement from individual to collective consciousness," Calliope noted.

"Precisely. Instead of just giving healings to people, I began working on myself—clearing the karmic impressions that existed between myself and others through right action, through taking responsibility for the distortions I could perceive. This expanded into working with entheogens, with dance as healing through my devotion to Terpsichore."

He gestured to a series of images showing various healing modalities—plant medicines, ceremonial dance, energy work. "All of it was part of understanding how trauma stores itself across singular and multiple lifetimes, how individual healing contributes to collective transformation."

Calliope moved to an image showing Peter surrounded by people seeking healing, but his expression carried a weight that seemed almost overwhelming. "But something shifted in your relationship to this gift."

"I began questioning the nature of my responsibility." Peter's voice carried traces of remembered frustration. "I was giving healings constantly—to my apprentice Joshua during our six years of travel, to others who arrived in my field. I started asking myself: who am I actually required to heal?"

"And what did you discover?"

"That it was only those who arrived on my path—the people karmically connected to me through the threads of our shared stories. Not everyone who needed healing, but specifically those whose timelines intersected with mine for deeper reasons."

Calliope touched an image that showed geometric patterns overlaying the connections between Peter and various individuals. "The concept of aka—the elemental patterns you were meant to work with."

"Yes. I came to understand that I carried specific patterns within the collective field—certain spheres of consciousness that were part of my mission, my unique geometry within the larger story." Peter brought forward images that seemed to pulse with particular frequencies. "In my case, it was the qualities of the Divine masculine, sacred sexuality, truth, honor, and healing. These were my 'portion of the distortion'—the specific aka I was processing both individually and collectively."

"The patterns you encountered in others reflected your own work," Calliope observed.

"Exactly. When people arrived who needed healing around these specific frequencies, it wasn't random. They were part of my karmic web, and working with them was simultaneously healing these patterns within the collective field."

Calliope's expression grew more serious as she brought forward an image showing Peter looking exhausted, surrounded by endless cycles of the same patterns. "But the healing became overwhelming."

"An overwhelming burden of repetitions that caused me to question the very goodness of the Divine," Peter said, his voice carrying the weight of remembered frustration. "It seemed to never stop—layer after layer of healing, one person after another carrying the same distorted patterns. All while I was dealing with my own shadow work, my own splintering that was inhibiting my ability to move forward."

The images around them shifted, showing Peter's form becoming increasingly fragmented across the timeline. "I suffered from a kind of partial amnesia. My own talents and abilities were splintered and shattered, requiring me to constantly attempt to clarify my consciousness and build the Mythica as scaffolding just to hold myself together. The most maddening aspect was how my creative work would vanish from memory—entire projects, videos, written pieces would slip into oblivion, only to resurface later like ghosts mocking my inability to maintain continuity of effort."

"The cruel irony," Calliope said softly, "of being a gifted healer while losing access to your own coherence."

"No one around me seemed to understand or care about this fragmentation. I could heal others with perfect clarity, but when it came to healing myself…" He touched an image showing himself with hands glowing as he worked on someone else, but his reflection showed a fractured, barely-coherent form. "I had tremendous amnesia and resistance to using my abilities on myself. Brief moments of clarity would appear like clouds parting, then I'd be plunged back into the shadowy, splintered darkness."

"What was blocking your self-healing?" Calliope asked gently.

"It felt like something beyond my ability to change—both an invisible wall when I tried to heal myself and a forgetting that I even had the ability when it came to my own wounds. This is why I've had so much issue with the idea of free will. I was experiencing forces beyond my control actively preventing my healing."

The space around them grew darker, the images taking on a quality of struggle and resistance. "I began to hate the process of healing itself, to resent the nature of the Age and the droves of people who seemed fundamentally ignorant or self-centered. Life felt like a constant attempt by others to manipulate me, sell something to me, or attack me for things I didn't do—all while I was making noble efforts to build a platform showcasing the nature of the Quest itself."

"This bred resentment toward the cosmic setup," Calliope observed.

"Full-on hatred for God and the nature of the Kali Yuga," Peter confirmed, his gold cloak seeming to flicker between light and shadow. "These endless repetitions made me question whether the Divine was truly good, whether there was any benevolence in a system that seemed designed to fragment and overwhelm. I was constantly trying to manage a highly damaged root chakra while being overwhelmed by crown chakra awareness. Constantly creating videos, content, working with AI, trying to do good while feeling pushed down by the universe itself."

He paused, his expression darkening with remembered frustration. "But the cruelest part was how the splintering removed my ability to remember or follow through on what I'd accomplished. Piles and piles of work would slip into obscurity, only to be remembered at some later moment—as if to taunt me with the fact that I'd forgotten, that I wasn't in control of my own path. Hours of creative effort would vanish from my awareness, entire projects disappearing into the void of my fractured memory."

"Did you question Divine support?" Calliope asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

"On a fundamental level, yes. The repetitive nature of the healing work, the endless cycles of the same patterns, made me question whether the Divine was actually benevolent or if we were trapped in some kind of cosmic torture chamber. If we actually 'chose' this as part of a mission—as so many people assert—I couldn't remember consistently due to the very issue that needed healing. I forged through endless challenges while people spoke of agency and choice, everything reduced to motivational slogans, while I questioned the very nature of existence and the goodness of whatever force had created this reality."

He gestured to a series of images showing the Mythica being built, destroyed, and rebuilt repeatedly. "I ended up building and rebuilding the Mythica over and over, wondering if she was set up correctly, dealing with repetitive challenges as if something within or without me was constantly working against me."

"What was causing these cycles?" Calliope inquired.

"A combination of things. The technology needed to advance beyond what I could create alone—I needed AI, advanced graphics, multimedia capabilities to explain what I was seeing. But simultaneously, my own splintered incoherence was sabotaging my forward movement. I'd set up courses, create videos, develop comic prototypes, but things would be half-forgotten or lost, entire bodies of work slipping into the amnesia that plagued me. It was as if something internal was working alongside the external resistance, ensuring that my efforts would disappear into obscurity just when I needed them most."

Calliope brought forward an image showing the magnificent structure of the completed Mythica, overlaid with fragments of Peter's consciousness and the approaching figure of an ally. "Until you needed to be rescued."

"It felt like both Divine intervention and incredible disempowerment. After forging forward like a viking on quest for decades, I'd lost faith in everything—in the Divine, in my ability to heal, in the possibility of genuine collaboration. It took three years of healing with Cassandra before I could even see how splintered I was."

"And during that recovery, your apprentice's betrayal," Calliope added gently.

"Six years of travel together, of giving him countless healings, and then… betrayal. It was part of a larger crucible that forced me to question the very nature of the 'Divine plan' and people's assumptions about choice."

Peter moved to an image that showed him speaking with others, radiant and clear, contrasted with another showing him alone and fragmented. "The grand irony, perhaps the most shattering thing, is that when I speak to others I am clear, empowered, and fabulously aware. Yet when I'm alone or trying to accomplish tasks, shadows and distortions take hold. It's like something within me actively works against me."

"This pattern itself was part of what you came to heal," Calliope said with profound understanding.

"Yes. My journey through this healing crucible—the splintering, the amnesia, the rage at God, questioning free will, being able to heal others while blocked from healing myself—all of it has been both personal hell and cosmic service."

"You've been processing the fundamental split in consciousness itself," Calliope observed.

"The very patterns that keep the Divine masculine fragmented and separated from its own power. That's why the healing seemed endless and repetitive—I wasn't just healing individuals, but processing this collective aka pattern that affects the masculine principle itself."

Calliope gestured to the vast web of interconnected images around them. "And all of this contributed to building something revolutionary."

"I feel I'm an ambassador of a larger, more collective relationship with the planet and Creation. Everything I've experienced has facilitated a new media network that speaks to emergent consciousness—a real-life interpretation of the heroic journey, a map of the healing landscape, proof of collective consciousness."

"The Mythica as living laboratory," Calliope said, her voice filled with recognition.

"Exactly. Through these Akashic narratives, we're creating a format that illuminates the soul perspective of the journey while showing the actual timeline difficulties. My personal crucible becomes the reference point for others navigating their own portion of the collective distortion."

The images around them began to pulse with renewed vitality, the fragmented pieces starting to weave together into coherent patterns. "What I've built isn't abstract theory about consciousness or healing, but documented proof of how the magical world operates, how individual stories interconnect, how collective patterns play out through personal timelines."

"The repetitive cycles, the betrayals, the cosmic resistance," Calliope noted, "all become sacred data."

"Sacred data that illuminates the actual mechanics of transformation. I've created a living map that demonstrates the movement from 3D to 5D consciousness, complete with all the resistance, shadow work, and breakthrough moments that journey entails."

Peter looked out across the vast expanse of the Akashic Library, where countless other stories flickered in the distance. "The healing journey—from simple massage to processing collective aka patterns—has been about learning that we're not separate from each other or the planet. Our individual healing contributes directly to the collective transformation."

"And your role as healer who couldn't heal himself?"

"Was necessary to understand and document the very forces that keep consciousness fragmented. Someone had to live it, map it, and create a bridge between the transcendent understanding and the embodied struggle."

Calliope smiled, her blue robes shimmering with approval. "Creating proof that the heroic journey isn't just mythological metaphor, but the actual process of consciousness evolution."

"Yes," Peter nodded, his gold cloak now steady in its radiance. "And showing that what appears to be personal suffering is often cosmic service—processing the patterns that need transformation not just for ourselves, but for the collective healing of our species."

The images around them settled into a harmonious constellation, each one a star in the larger map of transformation that was the Mythica herself—proof that the magical world exists, that our stories are interconnected, and that the journey through healing, no matter how difficult, serves the evolution of consciousness itself.

In the Akashic Library, all stories interconnect, and every personal journey of healing contributes to the collective transformation. The sacred wound becomes the doorway through which wisdom flows, not just for the individual, but for all who follow the path of conscious evolution.