Ouroboros: The Return to the Beginning

A Meta-Mythic Biography of the Earth Across Time, Space and Imagination



The Evolutionary Saga so far:

But it was there, in the silence of her mind that it was all very clear. The ray was not going in, but going out. They knew it but needed to wait until he was ready, he was old enough, wise enough, streetwise and mature to understand.

In circle they stood around praying, chanting, humming as the moon floated higher in the sky. The same moon that someday he would see when he was old enough. He would remember just as she had in her own story, her own development. But in the earlier times, the days long ago, it was not safe to tell of the deep starlight within. They all could feel it, but few understood what it was, what to do with it or even where it came from and why it existed. The grandfathers of the grandfathers who came to them passed on the information that needed to be known, that would awaken the ones who would come later.

Standing on the beach, they huddled around in a circle. The moon above lit by the same fire their blood remembered. The ocean roared and lashed at their feet. With their noses in the sky the sounds began, a slight whir of their breaths creating a live stream of memory. It flowed up into their minds, down their bodies wet with sea mist and then down and down further and further into their bones before coming out of their feet and traveling into the earth to mingle with the diamonds hanging there so beautifully held and protected by the Keepers.

As the information spiraled down, the databases caught it, reservoirs filling up over generations for the offspring to see what the ancestors would share. But it was a mystery to them – who came after – what it was that was being communicated, and what they were supposed to do with it. Let alone how to decipher the messages, held for epochs in crystalline membranes of geoterrestrial habitations.

Their pulses a breathing mediary between the above and the below – the castles and clouds of her mind – the Goddess', and her collaborators in flesh and spirit. Like the queens of all, their minions in there I can across time and space.

Entering the passageway, they held the fire in front of them, feeling the cold wet stone walls of the cave alive with sorcery- a sanctuary still, holding memories in the stagnant air. I blinked, wondering where I was and how I got there. I shook my head to find I was still there in the cave wet with well water but they, my comrades of the quest no longer there in the dank underworld shrine.

Voices echoed throughout the chamber as the elf king received news of the visitor. His manual on the running of the kingdom not including specific rules of what to do on this day of days, anticipated as it was for generations before he was ever born.

As they approached the grassy hill, their minds filled with thoughts, expectations, and of course dreams of magic. He was trusting in her lead, to take him to the spaces that needed to be witnessed – to bring healing to them from his place of magic.

They entered but could not fully arrive as there were other psychonauts there exploring in their ways, the mysteries of the ancestors. The spirals etched into the tomb walls – portals to another time, another place where the goddess was everywhere, not separate from the eyes, the breath, the land and sky and moon as the future ones would think Her into their ways of life and creation.

This was why he needed to go there – to the tombs and places and land of the ancestors. And why they wanted him back.

Spiraling up the staircase, the light was overwhelming, but he had to get there, to the top where he was instructed to go. It beckoned him like the light itself had been guiding seafarers since the ancient times. But the light at the top was not a physical one, but an etheric one, housed in a ruin of the praymen from an order of the cross.

They watched him climb the hill, circumnavigating the holy realm of seekers, watchers, devotees of the God and Goddess, Sword and Circles, Rose and Thorn, Wells of Chalice and Iron. And as the Little Ones from across the veil saw what he was doing, they clapped in joy, for they knew that another one had remembered, awakened from the sleep of forgetfulness, the spell of ignorance that they remain hypnotized by, epochs later, far far beyond the time when they lived as one with Her.

Approaching the well, I knew that I remembered. I knew that I had been there before – it was one it was one of the needs to return, with her, with them.

Remembering He who had taught us, He who had preached to the feeble bodied and weak minded who lived there – in this place we were called back to- as one, then two, then three – together we remembered, together we prayed.

Peering through, the veils opened just for us so it seemed.

The singing in his ears like the haunted and mysterious hymns of the underworld maidens, trying endlessly in their world to lure the brave navigators of the sea kingdoms to their ultimate and untimely fates. But it was not the merwomen that he was hearing as his hand was holding on to the green green pods of the vines being harvested. Ecstatic and otherworldly melodies calling to him so unbelievably beautiful and altogether terrifying stopped him violently in his tracks.

The music, the hypnotic dream was not someplace he wanted to travel off to, so far away from the world he understood, where he belonged, where his life was, and where his future remained.

They called to him – it was so loud and seductive in his mind. Could other people also hear the voices and music as well? Could the other caretakers of the greenhouse hear what he was experiencing? It was like a long tunnel across time and space that he would go to if he agreed to the journey – if he wished for it too. Temptation striking at his heart, but he was resolute in his decision.

He would stay. He had so much work to do- in the body, the realm where he currently existed – a world of art and love and joy. A fertile garden filled with continuous exploration. The faeries would wait. It would not behoove him to join them and return if it all at a point in the questionable future.

Like a seafaring warrior, he stayed in his world- in his body - as the come hither beckoning was sensed by the Ashen tree princess. Her hand on his shoulder, he returned to the world of the physical, the sights and sounds, smells and tastes of the tactile world seemingly separated by eternities of space and time.

But the doors ever open to the multi-dimensional sensory cosmonauts straddling the worlds just across the threshold.

As the workers toiled away, the form came more and more into shape, its image becoming clearer and clearer with each subsequent blast.

Like being in a furnace, like witnessing worlds birthing, the inner earth vulcans forged the star into being - the housing and the stone that would serve future generations with its luminescent technology.

Symbols kept hidden in protection from those that would not understand, those that would need to stop it… Hidden in plain sight, for those with eyes to see and ears to hear would know, understand and remember.

The language written on the crystals, as a method of multi/cross dimensional information storage, ultimately for the dwellers on the surface... It would take them inconceivably long amounts of time until they were ready to receive the transmissions from their mothers and fathers- from the time before time, when darkness and light were not dichotomous.

Looking into the sun, he wondered how many times he had seen it, for how many lifetimes. If he saw it then as he saw it now. If he saw the earth in the same way as he was perceiving it at this time. The plants and animals, the trees and sky and clouds. Knowing that they were all teachers for him when he allowed them to be.

The crows watched them as they crossed the field, his guide ever connected with the hill and those who oversaw it.

Spirals everywhere they felt like they could hardly breathe. The darkness and silence feeling like it was closing in on them. Memories bubbled up to the surface, of this place, the haunting feelings just like yesterday.

Similar ceremony but a different time. Together we remembered, together we prayed.

The sun sinking lower and lower on this night of nights. Candles blazed like distant bale fires telling the others the time had come – that they could all light theirs together, in unison the light would be received. The darkness would fade away and again we would welcome the return of the light.

The boat docked in the early misty morning. Ripples rustling through the tall glades scraping the bottom of the mists. The voyage across the lakes was not new to her but this time she needed to go there – to the caves, to hide the reliquary that she was entrusted with.

Eyes peering out from the darkness… She first thought it was the sun refracting from crystals embedded in the mountain walls. But realized they were alive and watching her, waiting for the right moment to make themselves known.

The gems held the information, guarded by generations of the Golden Ones. Those who knew, those who came to Earth from the rays of light that emanated up from the core after being delivered from above.

And between the two they would meet – between the above and between the below – on the surface but they would connect. On the surface where they would coalesce,  mature and in time radiate as formed and focused energy – rays of light – beams sent out to transform the worlds.

(As) the light gathered and made its way up and down through the intricately evolved and technologically advanced maze of otherworldly machinery, The beam shot out of the eye of the great, wise and ever intelligent design (of)…

The sacred mysteries, so hidden and so complex as they had come to be known were gaining momentum – to be dispersed into the upper world. The time had come, it was needed, the world – this world could not wait any longer.

The land knew and remembered as it always had, but the people… The beautiful beautiful ones, residents of their now home, were getting lost and confused (in this new realm of existence).

Why had they been born? What was their purpose? Why life? Why birth? Why death…?

Why this cycle of emergence and memory? They just could not seem to recall. The answer was there. Just hidden deeply within their hearts. There was something, or someone, or someplace that they knew they needed – that special piece of themselves – that if they, the proud and lost children of the Earth, found it, if they remembered it, they would be… whole. Again.

Her wings spread, so much wider than earlier, before the accident. The Watchers knew it would happen but did not interfere with Her will – Her desire that kept pushing and pushing Her to cry. To cry for Him – to save Her from... The Fall.

Into the impending chasm that would ultimately lead to separation… Of their body, their mind, their spirit.

As they watched from their seaside view, they could see the multitudes streaming down the mountainside. He led them. The wisest, most loving and devoted that He had seen – this time as the incarnation of the Holy One.

Returning again for the sake of awakening.

Their eyes followed the flock. They hadn't seen this in the race since the time before The Fall, when their minds were not as clouded, tarnished and doubtful. It was like watching the jewels that they protected in love and devotion rolling and glimmering through the surface world. Like cascading starlight.

The mountain sighed deeply, feeling that curious glow in its heart that came from time to time. She felt as though She were being massaged, or stroked on Her skin. But they, the followers didn't realize that this was occurring right beneath their feet. For their hearts and senses were overcome with joy immeasurable, following in the radiant footsteps of their Master.

Dipping his cup into the spring, a memory hit him quickly. That of the sword rising to the surface of the lake. It all felt so real but he was barely old enough to even hold a sword on its own, without assistance.

Walking along the mountain path worn to dirt from the ages of travelers delivering their goods, the sky darkened - like it had in the time of despair when He was put up. To die.

The ravens keenly watched, knowing in their wise ways the magic playing out in the great Drama.

As He lifted his head from the water brought to his lips dried with exhaustion, He saw them, hearts open gazing up at him from their mortal roles.

Ready for their part, hands, eyes and minds reached through the veils of dreams incandescent to spread the next necessary ingredient of evolutionary guidance.

Shivering in the darkness they awoke to find the walls of the city aflame with apocalyptic deliverance.

Had the snakes finally met? Eye to eye, mouth to mouth, hiss to hiss…? Spitting and slithering in unison, the time came at last when they would merge and the Great Age of Golden Glory would end.

Time would remember, space would invert and the One would become the Two. They would see each other as… Different. As separate. As individual.

Then it was, that the Two became many. And they spread across the Earth. Eventually, over many many epochs and silences, gasps and shrieks of delight, they would forget where they came from and the magnificence of their... Opportunities... In flesh and bone and breath. Until the time came when the memories would surface. And like beautiful bubbles of bliss and buoyancy, one by one, family by family, the eyes and minds and hearts would awaken, the skies would clear, and the fright and fear and questioning would subside.

The Return of the Light would come. And, again, like long before… They would be… Happy.

All of them, in their race. All of them remembering. All of them trusting. All of them knowing, again, that they were born to usher in the awe and majesty and devote their days to being the mapmakers of magic. As Gods, as Goddesses across the limitless natures of their minds and hearts,.. In Eternity..

They would play along ecstatically in the dance of life, agreeing to the terms and conditions and rules of the Great Game that they were so very familiar with.

Night began to close in and bring darkness, fear and mystery. The light of day that was desperately needed was extinguishing, in their minds.

The fires blazed through the city, noise of marching battalions, foretold by the Wise Ones getting closer and closer, to…

Taking Him away, again. What had been learned from when this happened before? Back in the time of the Revelations, when He, the deliverer of the message was swept away into the night…?

Flying over, the pilots determined the safest place to land. Their gas was unexpectedly running low. It felt like they had only been airborne for a short time. And now, where were they? Strange light surrounded them, softer, yellower and more otherworldly. The sun was nowhere to be seen, nor were there any stars visible at this luminescent time of the day. Why did the air feel so different? As they approached a large field of green, they were astonished by what they saw in the distance.


The singing continued, making the water sparkle in giddy elation. The Undines had not felt this uplifted since She was born. The Maiden of the Sacred Waters. Renewer of heart and vision, Queen of the River of Doves. Appearing from time to time to the knights and pilgrims venturing far from their homes for the healing and Holy Waters of The Well.

As the moon rose, the village shined more and more- As if the stellar light of the satellite’s aura enveloped space far beyond what the eyes could see… Their eyes- so open and curious to the mysteries that lay ahead. Some of which were prophesied, some - more that were shrouded in secrecy except for those who knew.

As the cave slowly opened, and the new dawn’s light entered the mystical corridor, there He stood, as peaceful as before. Before the Passion, before the arrest, before the Supper… There He stood, arms outstretched, seeing,feeling, living only love. Again.

Five bright orbs of different colors could be seen in the distance. Each one seemingly representing aspects of being. Aspects of creation. Celebrating his release from the brave and difficult ordeal that he had accomplished with great success.

They were watching him from afar – from another space entirely. Another dimension. As the three Magi had appeared at his arrival, there were now more – heralding His touching into the planetary worlds for the sake of offering a Map of The Way - towards freedom, grace and truth. But the multitudes and the decision makers could not see this- they were not able to understand. They were unwilling to believe.

Crossing the river under cloak of darkness, She had the feeling, as she often did, that She had seen what lay ahead. Although this time it was the light that would follow the darkness. In the distant future, a time would come when the Goddess would return, not as one, but as many. And He would rise again. Through the awareness, through the consciousness, through the willingness to be…

Embodied sparks of remembrance, voices of change, bringers of balance to a world that would find itself together again in chaos and disharmony and imbalance.

But there they sat, watching the world go by. The clouds being moved not only by the wind, but also by Them- the Shapers as they were known at this point in the history of the Earth itself.

The age of scientists and philosophers had not come yet. For the forces that were so alive, making the planet function were accepted because it was known that They were the ones who provided life.

Looking inside the pyramid, they could not see where the ray was coming from. Or what was giving it its spiral form- like it was made more from sound than light. It was as if the Earth was spitting out its DNA. Or, sending off Her codes to be analyzed and recorded.

There in the celestial laboratories where the scientists of and for Earth would come from, the incoming information would be received and logged into living systems of solid, vaporous and even viscous matter. Similar to our crystalline forms of gems, rocks and crystals but inconceivably vast and physically immeasurable.

Like light and space itself.

And so it was there.There at the entrance to the otherworld where the group stood. Their hearts beating in their eyes, their breath quick and synchronized like Her and Him, together again like in the time of creation before it was all changed, before the differences came in a shattering of ecstasies and perfection.

He was going out while they were coming in. Like the ray. He embodied what they could only imagine- and yet they always seemed to know, to understand why He was, and who He was being as they listened to the words and where they came from and why they were being communicated- transmitted at this time to them. And why they- we- would know better what the message was then and now as the messages were delivered into the future.

And that voice.

Oh that beautiful beautiful voice speaking His messages, His teachings and parables from the depths of darkness that they dare not go… Alone.

A warm wind came in from the West directing their attention to the horizon where the clouds lit red, foretelling of the visitor on his way from across the sky. The starlight faded as he spread his blanket of dawn upon the cold sand of the desert floor. How long had it been since he returned, the great god of light and fire and warmth? How long were they alone in the dark for? Who but the Knowers of All That Is could show them the way into the light that could always be felt when not seen...?

As they gazed into the darkness, they could feel their thoughts pounding into their eyes, down their spines and into their feet - pausing before- just moments before- exiting their bodies to commune with the mycelial network interweaving as if of its own accord, with the thoughts they had always ever seen with their minds.

Pictures of worlds they dreamed on to the walls and ceilings and rooftop domes of cathedrals- but was it real? Who would ever see it and understand? Who would ever know they are so much more than mysterious figures hunting animals?

The brave sons and daughters of the Maker- lit within searching and searching for understanding of why… Why they were and how they came to be. Yes they, the early ones felt this mystery, one that still haunts, captivates and mystifies.

They are still so alive. The memories etched in stone, breathed by our fore brothers and sisters - stamped into a physical world forming who they were, what they would know and feel and see and believe.

They were the gods of their realm, creating and destroying at will. Powers within them- their minds and hands - their bodies of cosmic extensions painting scenes of what was elapsing in their primal perception- a reality no different than that with their early human eyes. The same eyes capturing, recording, processing and disseminating data from visual queues - prompts like on a monitor fed from camera lenses onto a movie screen. The eyes were the lenses, as they have been all along.  

How could they possibly know of this phenomenon? That what they would think, everything they would imagine, they would project onto the vivid screens of their realities. Their existences like passing frames on a film strip. Reel after reel after reel. Life after life after life. Death after death after death. Birth after birth after birth. 




More to come...