Rejecting the Mortal Dream

I feel more connected to the Dream today, which is good. There are also clouds.

I have flashes of clearer experiences of the Dream, of Dana, and so forth.

As I called the Guardians today, HS breathed starfire and did something and brought stars to the inner plane—this and the sense of those stars, the growing tree of my wyrd, that there’s something there—those things left me weak and crying, releasing some pain and tightness from me. BM was happy again, as well, and even ShF seemed pleased. I thought that the waters of the cauldron were a reflection of the emptiness of that place, but WM assured me I was filled with much. After the power of HS, FitE left me feeling fey and wild.

I relaxed after aligning, moved to meditation. I found myself easily in that inner plane, leaning my back against the tree of my wyrd. As I med’d, the stars above me again, I began to find myself admitting and embracing persons into my inner plane, into myself: Dana, KL, AL, LtY, LT, the Guardians, Angus, the Pantheon, then ____—this left me tearful again—_____, _______, _______, _______, _______, and more—and this left me—crying.

I began to channel the Green, projecting out, and I channeled with Dana for a time, and as I reached a point—the day-green I’m more attuned to, and I’m more immediately functional with it (the night makes me more intoxicated), it occurred to me that what I’ve been wanting to reject isn’t “humanity” in many sense, but the mortal, deadly dream. I embrace compassion, friends, companionship, and even community, but I reject “humanness” and that “human” part of me. More specifically, it’s a constellation of things—the reified identities and selfhood, the shells of humanity I’ve had imposed on me or which I’ve submitted to or have mistaken for “me.” It’s akin to halthaya and mûl-ôl, but I don’t have a good name for it yet—Lies. Lies are what they are, it is. I’m not sure how to explain it yet. But I reject “human.” I am not human. I am not ________. I “am” [Crowess]; I am more fey and ______, and I reject self-identifying myself as human. I’ve never been human. I reject the power those shells have wielded against & over me. I do not have a soul. I have elaith (not sure about this), a wyrd—a faerie spirit.

After this self-revelation, I linked the roots of that wyrd to the roots of Elethis. This act left me feeling weak and confused, drained, like so much was being taken—only to finally feel the Green of Elethis flow back, making me feel more—glorious, free. It’s like I was emptied of what I didn’t want or need and refilled.

But that wyrd, that elaith, I have been empty and hollow, and I’m not sure how or why, but that’s left me powerless in my life here, and to have power, I must regenerate, cultivate elaith, for magic or otherwise.

ShF hugged me at the end. BM hugged, embraced, practically made out with me. SS held my hand.

Dana also was supportive of physically invoking [Elethis] and [WtaW] and [WtaW] into my kinesthetic form after I had my elaith and rejection revelations.


Awarthon hurur halthaya a mûl-ôl.

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