The Mythical Life is filled with all manner of creatures. Characters from the edges of imagination made real.
They are the Story-makers, the skinshapers; the yogi’s of passion and performance. The brave beings who have chosen the Divine Adventure. As if woven from dreams, they shift and change, becoming what they need to be in the moment. Often they are encountered, wandering through the realms of the Green, in darkened nightclubs and secluded gatherings. They dance by the fire, they sing alone to the Moon. They are the Makers of Myth; the avatars of our realizing Awakening.
It has been my honour to encounter many such beings in my journeys across the Mythica. To have walked with the Heroines and Legends of the modern Age; to be reminded of our shared Story; our all-too-human experience of finding our freedom through paintstrokes and poise. Seen from the depths of the Mythica; these beings are far more than they appear on the Surface. They are quite literally the shamans, the edgewalkers, the beings who travel between our states of being to bring back the treasures from the realms of Mystery.
They are the magickians. The priestesses; the champions of mythology itself; possessed of Talents and Powers of real magick hidden behind the costumes and the stage.
Sometimes they are frightening. Other times they are our best friend. Yet always, always they are poignant; a moment of flush colour; the rainbow in the rain.
In these moments, encountering this world of illusion and Truth; what matters is how we relate. How we appreciate the opportunity to see something inside of our own Self that was hidden; for such is the great service to the World of such beings; the brave revelation of their artful performance a yoga of remembrance.
When one lives a Mythical Life; they understand that the circumstances of their Life are much more than they appear. That we encounter one another for a reason; that we are all bound to each other; part and parcel of each others unfolding Story. To meet the wilde, to encounter the wandering and the free is to have encounter with those parts of our own Self made manifest.
What wonders will they show us? What magicks are we capable of perceiving? How open is our Heart; how liquid is our sense of Self, that we may embrace the Gifts they have to offer?
When we travel the realms of Story; anything can happen. Rarified Truth, the most precious of things; can be found in the most unlikely of places. Scripture from the most unlikely of mouths. The denizens of myth walk the cracks between the pavement; they are the flowers pushing through the stone. Barefoot, winged; sparkled in light, they are the Dreamers of the Dream.