Isis Oasis: NYE Enchantment A New year, A new tribe of awakening soverEignty

December 2015 is a crash landing into hibernation. The Mythica sang song lines through my instrument along the meridian currents between the wild eden of the hawaiian islands and the ancient sorceress havens of Europe. My heart is in shards, from saying goodbye to my Beloved Kuba, from reopening past scars with my father, from supporting sisters in the work of the green goddess. By thanksgiving I am depleted, and a slightly conscious seduction lands me a cabin and a Kenai, the most magical four legged wolf beast ally I could hope for. And I retreat from the world, into fires and baths and soup and kundalini yoga, and into realms of Tearful Floodgates, low self-esteem, sadness, isolation and suffering.
Canvas, Tyler Axel Below, Hermes, Hathor, mythopoetic Architect

And on the morning of Solstice, a bright way-shower named Canvas and his elfin sister Corine show up on my doorstep. Canvas holds me close, awakens my slumbering Mythopoetic Vision, hands me a brush, and invites me to Paint my Masterpiece. We go to a chakra Activation Meditation with the legendary priestess Starsinger. We return home brighter, more dilated to our divine blueprints. He tells me of a woman he is about to fall in love with, and her tribe, and an event they are going to Celebrate the New Year, an Egyptian Temple campground called the Isis Oasis

Isis Oasis Temple

I spend Christmas alone, on the phone with my mother. Sad. I am back in the Shadowlands. I almost do not have the heart to venture out again. I want my wolf companion to come with me, but I feel the anger of his master and my landlord Jonny policing my every step. So I leave Kenai outside and drive 3 hours northwest to an Enchanted Forest, and the temple cultivated within. The land has many devas and entities roaming about, people going very far down rabbit holes to be devoured by their demons. I am not sure I want to be here. And then I find canvas, and feel safer. It seems the only thing necessary here is to feed these demons something nourishing. I strip down to a black lace unitard, cover myself in melted chocolate on an altar of rose petals, and dance. And as I move through these realms I sacrifice the part of me that judges and fears my lust, and I am freed. I enter holy ground. And an incarnate of Kuan Yin appears before me in a white dress, and we dance, and the elfin queen Krishna whom Canvas worships is there also. And before we know it we are safe and clean and cozy in a beautiful casita. And a brilliant witch named Miraculah is performing an exorcism on me and I am convulsing and coughing up phlegm of rose petals and singing divine harmony. And I bath and am baptized in the moon with King Steven. And they morning comes and we sleep, and anger evening of prayer by the fire, this time with collective expansion into past life regression and healing of wounded soul streams. And I dance. And I roar. And I purify a defiled Rose. And I Belong. I have met my family.

Ella Vong, Elan, Kuan Yin Yang Gangster, Oz One
Nathangel, tea master, chi gong weaver, cacao yogi
Michaelah, Miraculah, miracle Draculah, hairapist, word witch, spellsourcerer
Kristen Camden, Krishna, elfin queen and ninja badass

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