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Some months moved on. He began to feel a twinge and a swelling of the wellspring within. The feelings were new. He’d catch himself singing out loud as he galloped here and there. Sometimes vaulting off Ducati and springing down to splash his face in a nearby stream. Flinging sticks into the gurgling pools and watching them be whisked and whirled out of sight…. reminding him of his days as a boy.


Stories he would hear of neighbours in trouble and strife brought a tightness to his throat, he couldn’t suppress. A new keen empathy for his fellow peers that he would have never imagined feeling a few years ago. As his impulsive and even at times repulsive ways of thinking as a young knight drew to an end, he felt the offering from spirit and had new found awareness of his wholeness within, without the need for external gratification or approval, and he could sense his inter-connectivity to all things.


The inner wellspring allowed a steely confidence to preside his way of being. Holding compassionate strength, his heart was the source of this strength, not his brawn or his brains. And the light from the heavens pervade his crown. Flashes of insight and deeper understanding of his tumultuous journey and indeed his quest for the grail rained down upon him.


And yet, his new-found understanding meant to die completely to his old ways… he froze, like winter. Observing and knowing the messages from the depths of his heart chambers, yet these he kept locked within whilst truth revealed itself from the inside out, the façades and familiarities would have to thaw. By allowing himself to flow with life’s currents carrying him this way and that, giving up resistance and the tight grip of tension, divine inspiration with the exquisite vulnerability of his soul’s truth filled his conscious thoughts, how indeed to live in the sweetness and fullness of joy and love.


The recognition that beginnings anew lit up the horizon, he knew, and the steps to take were bathed in a lighter vibrant hue on the path up ahead. The waiting was over, he was now a rich man with a strong, stable footing. As he sat reviewing the estate’s accounts, his shoulders hunched slightly guarded, his lips thin and his mouth dry. Listening more deeply, awareness of what had almost become an obsession could be traced back through his lineage, generations encountering warfare, plundering, pillaging and the harshest of winter conditions had ingrained a hoarding tendency. To let go awoke primal fears of death in icy lands at the hands of cruel mercenaries.


The advice from the light of Awen? Shadow and shade mixed together at dawn. The sun would rise when he spoke freely from his heart, spoke of his desires, spoke of his anam cara, oir bha gaol aice air fhathast. The reason why she loved him: he never had wondered what was right or wrong… he just knew, instinctively, heroically. To take his power back and reclaim his sovereignty, to stop external forces gaining from his life force leaving him drained and dreary, the magic was his own and it could move mountains. He feared the burdens would never be shed and yet he only need stand tall and straighten his spine, showing mercy on himself and all the souls surrounding him.


He took to the turret top once more to consult Ducati, who’s eyes still blazed with fire and knowing, the horse reminded him of a red dragon. He communed with the god-self within, seeing clearly that balancing the scales could only occur with the sword of truth in his hand. The right path was always the middle path and changes were afoot. The force of the earth coursed through his spirit and got him through the lonely nights and volatile storms within. He breathed in the scents and the sounds from Gaia easing deeply within his sinews, senses and soul. All would be well with submission to the natural course of things, the awakening of the human spirit as a homecoming and the Shakti rising within Gawain.


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