The Garden of the Red Thread
As we travel, we engage within the sound of the Mother Pulse, the Mother Tone, the Mother Voice. This is deep listening, this is essential to maintain an equilibrium with Gaia connection.
Our grounded nature is essential to our connection to the planet, the galaxy, the universe, and solar system. We are traveling light years each day, each moment, and to find the coordinates takes skill, focus, and determination.
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We hold in our hand the Red Thread of deep listening, we wrap and swaddle ourselves so that we can feel safe, as we travel out beyond the stretch of our reach. Our Soul gathers us up and carries us forward.
We travel beyond what we know, in order to know the new. Nu land brings us into a reach that accommodates the curious, the open-hearted, and the listened for. In our time, our space is expanded by our expressionary energy, formatting the circumference of our Mycelial connection.
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As we root our way forward, the direction becomes clear and the heavy-handed becomes lighter and lighter, bringing into alignment the boundary of Hope. Home centers itself squarely in the multiverse, crossing over lines as it goes.
We have drawn the longitude and latitude of our travels, and mapped our way through the interior reaches of sound, toned through the longing of starlight feeding us the direction necessary to fulfill the Need.
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We are enveloped by our wings and the feathers tells us of flight, air, and passage. The sight of Wood fills us with the round of trunk and the upright of its branches. Our nest is safe and our Home is set into eternity.
Beyond Time lives a Space that concludes its dimensions through the geomatric lineage of Raven. Black, the deep rich color of night, the deep rich color of dirt, the deep rich color of primary.
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Traveling the route of Light, the Trees open their pathways and allows us entry, so that we might hear the colors necessary for others to be able to understand the importance of the primary route.
Many paths lead in many directions, but to stay centered in the chaos of multi-travel requires an element of direct knowledge, gained from past, present, and future. We travel the lines that are able to map what is needed.
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Our postage stamp garden is immense, and its large corrugation is endless in its circumference. The radius is times infinity, and the equation adds up .
No sooner are we through one Portal than we are on to the next, each one a marker, and a reason for traveling. Under the foundation of Gaia, the rooted network is forming a new range of importance and this importance is allowing the expression to be heard more easily.
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Soon many more will hear of the connection between the Trees of Gaia and the Trees beyond. The Red Thread ties all this together within its weave of story, and the telling is worth the wait.
Sound becomes so codial that the notes of E; Encouragement, Excitement, Expression, and Eclipse, will be nurtured within all. The every note will bring empowerment to the Voice, as the Mother speaks her Soundings within the net of Neith.
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No matter the reason, no matter the need, no matter the desire, all will be awarded passage through the rooted way, that sets the path to ease. The story is just now beginning, and the tale is different now.
Changed by circumstance, the shift is perfect and the motion is exact. To see the reach and the hand that moves the purpose, allows us to grow our dimensional self into more becoming.
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Assimilating the differences, we are charging our energy systems to emit light that gathers its own light, to match the frequency needed as we propel ourselves forward. While the forward reach is achieved, we make our way through the passage without difficulty.
Ease is granted and the open nature of sight is maintained, to allow access to the deep rich underground of rooting and being planted generously in the garden, the community of nurturance.
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Breaking no pattern, the patterns assist and manage the ease, while unfolding the creased, and bending the Papered Awareness into a shape that relieves stress at the corners and brings comfort to each moment in Time.
Alchemy, with its electrical field of matrixial numbers, brings the lettered nature of ease into full registry, and we begin the Cathedric Climb, into the unknown from the known.
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Mathematics opens the alphabet to the story, and the shift in letters and numbers has a total. The total adds up and the equation counts its position into relevance.
The palm reaches out to be imprinted by the thread and the red pulse beats underneath the reach. The spark of realization figures in the course of the reed and the need is illustrated by the consistence, the full signature of intention, the spoken evolves the coordination of time and message and the unification of essence is made squared and prepared for the explanation of time.
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There is a felt that is needed to protect and guardian the pulse of female as she wanders through the thread of time to see if they are all connected, to become what it is.
The volume of effort that is needed is gathered up in the breast and the wind knows her name. The full entitlement of what is gathered is potentized in the feel of the effort from the beginning.
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Inside the throes, the action between hand and pose, finger and thread, the papered awareness that comes between the fingers as they squeak together.
The participated deed is finally in its squared perspective, and the folding manners of matter have surrendered to the appointed direction. The purposeful place is now corrected and what was embodied as difficult now surrenders to the ease of need.
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The accordioned ensembles the velvet hand has purchased the black as part of the gateway that scores the red. The wave of resistance has lowered its hand and the evolvement of the feminine principal is waved on through.
What now happens is most essential to the viewing square of potency. The promised equation has found its numbers and the collaboration is immense. The causal plane has devoured itself, and the consuming has been like precious metals.
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The full integrity of timing is now being corrected to an Exquisite Mode and the feeling felt is a full Rede, there is no consciousness of ignorance. The motionary forgiveness is moving through every grass and reed, and flower, tree, and herb, and thus the red fence is formed.
Perspective has shifted and the Red Thread has carved a new lineage throughout time and space. When all is welcomed, all is fed, and all that is fed is finally able to change its mind, its heart.
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The space that gives presence to the blood of lineage, creates a momentum. The purpose fulfillment is rolled out like a carpet, for the entrance of the alchemical Garden of the Red Thread.
The full felted opinion is given a warranty of truth, and the explanatory pattern recedes its negative. The first becoming is read through. The planetary evolvement is a full rainbow Red Thread Garden picketed by the equation of Female Power.
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Cast off of the rags of unattention, cast off is the lack of self-care, the Angelica stands tall in the Garden of the Red Thread. She pencils out the words of the surrender to the need. The vertical bypass of past future is now secured.
The dahlia of red and white scholars the entrance, and all who enter participate. The make up of strong will participates in the templing of the cornered awareness that speeds up the Rede of the alchemical wandering.
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The appearance of blue repeats itself frequently in the Garden of the Red Thread, so the acceptance of the sky above and the sky below can be conceived. The nature’s warning of a need of a footed path is realized, and the boarded walk of Intention that grounds the Rede of above and below.
The nature of willing need is given room and all the allied forces enter the quickening. Positioning the potency to align with the Rose, the full depth of precision is given the needed thorn of Briar Rose to protect the beauty of the sleeping quarters of the Divine principal as she recalculates the Sofiac Intellgencia.
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The Squared Perspective is penciled out of the menu of what assimilates a garden plan and marks the blueprint with the wisdom of the Alchemical Rede.
The postage stamp, now a multi-universe of what is needed to acquire a full lineage of the Garden of the Red Thread. The Oghamic Language of the Trees engages the back right, of what needs to be written, and the power.
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We saw it Red, we saw it Blue, we saw it Green, we saw it Yellow, we saw it Pitch Black, we saw it Purple, we saw it Made, and we sat in the Center of its Voice.
What is to be spoken, what is to be cared for, what is to be found deeply, what is to be felt wholly, this is all the conversation within the held of the Garden of the Red Thread.
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The sanctuary of the Tree Ogham is met face to face with the language of wisdom, that is held within the angles of Wood. So speak it out, whisper it in, fork it up, spoon it forward, the power is in the eaten, the power is in the swallow, yes, swallow it whole, like whale.
The visitation is coming, and the marking is being prepared, and the full coverage of intention is guaranteed, yes, pay it forward, yes, brush it on, yes, face into it, yes, listen for the whispering, yes, fold your voices through the pickets of its fencing of courage.
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Valkyrie your Spindle, Valkyrie your Elder, Valkyrie your Oak, Valkyrie you Birch. The Green of the Red Thread is the Garden of the Valkyrie, female heritage locked into itself for strength, unity, sovereignty , and bespoken.
The words of wisdom contain its red, the words of wisdom spindle its thread, the words of wisdom mistletoe its courage and conify its Kundalini Reach, so that the nature of the first Eve is written upon the thread.
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All hands reach up and out, marked with the Ogham Tree Sanctuary Language. Walk through the gate, be portion to your need, walk through the gate and be counted for your presence, walk through the gate and begin the Cathedric Climb.
The middle is accepted in the Garden of the Red Thread, the middle is Womb, the middle is Holy Ground, the middle is Wisdom, the middle is elastic, so it can give and receive in one breath.
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You are the middle if you’ve ever become, you are the middle if you ever began, you are the middle if you ever existed. Middle is the Mystery, middle is the content, middle is the Wombing.
Be Water, be dirt, be sky, be fire, be air, be pitched, be metalled, be Ether, you are. Let go, blow, be spent, be blood, be food, be Vox, be Consciousness.
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The Word gives, the word holds, the word conceives, the word carries, the word births, the word, the womb, the orifice of consciousness.
Lift the latch, breathe in yourself, put your right foot forward and then yourself, put your left foot forward and go to the temple, sit in the Vox, listen in every moment in time.
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Become filled, pour out, become someone you are meant to be, become someone you are, become someone full, pour out, bleed of it, through it, bleed out of it, yes, you are blood, you are the Red Thread connecting to all life, vital, fired, cauldron, lit, kundalini, woman.
Conceived of the weave, conceived of the thread, conceived of time and space, conceived of matter in the manner of storied telling.
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We are swaddled in the Red Thread of our telling, we are swaddled in the natural of Gaia, we are swaddled in the makeup of the direction we are going, we are directional and created to express the creativity that we are created from.
Listen and you will hear your own voice, within your own head and heart, the gut of your makeup releases its notes of relationship, and you become bound to yourself beyond limitation.
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Eating the labels off your brand, you free yourself and thread your way back Home. Home to the noted center of composition. Listen to the notes of yourself and replace the contents with new; ripe and red and filled with the juice of fecundity .
We lay down the lines of fairy, the leylines mark the spot, and reach into the veil of precision. Marked with ease, understood with ease, we are ready to proceed the Parted Way.
Natural is the footed path we trod, and the invitation is open.
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Closure: Perpetual is the Light of Ease, and formidable is the time that creates the Light of Ease that softens the world of existence, so that it is able to be swaddled and nursed and folded into the arms of the Mother.
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