The Doctor is In 2016 - "Love thy Self"

It is a Strange timbre on the air. The Doctor is not finished with us yet.

On the way to the theatre, Paradox sends me a message to not wait in line, that Dr. Strange will give me my ticket. I'm elated to see, when I arrive, an avatar of the Doctor himself, waiting at the gate.

Met by the Doctor

Such is apropos, to be led here, for I can sense the confluence of ley beneath the surface, the pouring of Light, the True Light of Story coming through the pale.

As I witness him real magick, real energies pour through his being. There is an embodied aspect in the fields beneath, that of sacred Story coming through. To meet him here is to meet in the realm of Story, in this Now, at an octave of depth.

This is so much more than a costume. In the underplanes of the Mythica, I see him, a Guardian. A gatekeeper of Story, the high priest of a Temple pulsing with the silver Heart of the Holy Wood. Later, Jordan will tell me, this is the owner or steward of the theatre, and has a tradition of embodying the avatars of the films that has gone on for years. I wonder for a moment how much he realizes the depth of his own incarnation, shapeshifitng from one form to another in service to Lady Story.

Everything that occurs on the Quest is significant. That the ancient magicks, the Celtic, the Egyptian, the Atlantean and perennial are coming through in this Story-temple, itself emblazoned with the sigils of those ages, herein the Holy Wood, is very, very meaningful.

This theatre is magnificent. The energies of Story are so THICK here. I can feel layers upon layers of imprints moving through the space. Such is a true Temple of Story, the echoes of silver and gold still reverberating in her hallowed halls. It is so auspicious to meet Paradox and Jordan here.

Jordan informs me, this is a sacred place. One of the first theatres during what he calls the 'Charlie Chaplin' era. I can sense the history, an erudite observance of the culture of Story as it has been moving through his form. A good man.

Like Paradox, there is a royalty of Story that passes through Jordan's avatar ....

There is so much magick in these stones. Each imprinted with the soul-signature of a moment in time. How I love the City of Angels and the paths to which Angeles herself leads me hither.

I am often complimented on the magick of my photos. The relationship with Light implied in the witnessed portrait. For me such is a dance with the deva, the elemental aspects of the Creation. Such things do not demand my pro camera, the iPhone serves in many instances to witness the Story.

So often, I need not do any adjustment, for the Light that shines through the avatars is imminent in itself. It is simply a matter of Arriving, in the Moment in space and time when such things can be Seen.

Nonetheless, I take a moment to deepen my gaze into the Mythica, where the violet flame, the resplendent Light and honour of Story pours through my brother-kin like a wandering Star.

We take our leave from the theatre-temple, heading down the road. Along the way, the sigil of the Gunslinger.

Realmsign. For the Rose.

In accordance with the principle of the sacred mirror, the omens and sigils we encounter on our Path are significant. The Quest of the Mythica has been one of absolute precision, of discernment, of proper aim, free from sin (error), in defense of the Rose. It is as a gunslinger, on my own journey to the Dark Tower in service to the Rose, that I catch this glyph upon the pavement.

Gods of Story

We stop for coffee. I am elated to get to share the Mythica with Paradox after so long. After, we split for a moment. Paradox has never seen the Elphinstone Coat, my own relic, created for me at the base of Mt. Elphinstone and infused with Earth-magicks. I set off to my truck to gather the item, choosing to lay my faerie cloak on top as I walk to their home.

The Wall of Story

I love being in such places. Full of the energies of the ancient Wonders. Thick with meaning and the current lore of our secret Heart. Paradox and Jordan's lair is as much of a temple of Story as the theatre, filled with the iconography of Wonder. Such is the reverence that we share, like Hjeron O'Sidhe and McLain, our devotion lay in the arms of Lady Story, the Muse of all tales and tellings. To be in this place is to deep in the realm of Story.

It is so significant to meet Paradox here, for I recognize us as the embodiments of the very thing. Authentic American Gods. Prometheans champions, working the bright magick of the Real in the Holy Wood.

For years I have wanted to collaborate with Paradox, recognizing our kinship as avatars of Story. Of the New Gods. This moment in the Journey Home is significant, for it is the real first Opening between us, in person, to bring gnosis of the realms of magick to the People. The real, incarnate version of 'Promethea' and 'American Gods' manifest.

So much Story moves through Paradox. Fluttering pages and screeching animal sounds, an orchestra of movement. Shifting crystalline structures and layers of communicate reflection. The animus of the Worlds moves through him, granting access to the primal language that lay beneath our Words and Wonders. He speaks of the way in which we may bring our powers to bear in greater service, finding our right place amongst the pantheon to rise together in Victory.

There is deep wisdom in this. Paradox has always been more about team dynamics than myself. Walking the realms for so long, I have striven to understand my right cadence, such that I our Light comes together in right-alignment.

It is then I get a better look at Jordan. At the New God that moves through this current form.

Jordan's Aspect is different than Paradox, in the Mythica I see galaxies, continuums, spiraling storylines distilled in their base components, his consciousness an astrolabe of cosmic topography.

I am returning to my vehicle when more magick unfolds. Having gathered the Elphinstone Coat from the truck, I have covered it with the faerie cloak. It is not lost on me that, a la the reality of the magick playing out in the Incarnate, I am walking the streets with what the film calls a 'relic', an item of exceptional magickal potential.

It is here, as I return to the cinema to shoot some photos with my pro camera, that I encounter a couple. Conversation ensues, in which I end up giving a dissertation on the nature of magick. Such is not lost on me that I am here, fulfilling my function, as a Doctor, a healer of the planet, reminding the People of the Glory that is their birthright.

Mita is kind, witnessing a photo of me in front of the inscriptions. The confluence is off the charts. That I would arrive here, in this moment, wearing my rainments and the elvish armour? Without contrivance? A by-product of my authenticity? God is Good. The Mythica unfolds.

Such is not lost on me, that I am to give real counsel on real magick, in this place. I recall that only yesterday I assisted brother Christian in clearing out the imprints which afflict all of humanity, that my purposing as an avatar of healing and remembrance is taking shape.

It is such a beautiful temple. Make no mistake, this place is full of magick. REAL magick. Layers upon layers of Stories wrought and wielded, spells and liaisons of tinsel and triumph. My Arriving here, in the inertia of the Mythica, to a place of ancient hieroglyph and reknown? Auspicious.

That this happened, in this * exact * Moment, is magick. Framing the portal to the mystic arts that is Into the Mythica.


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