#skyfather

God didn’t hide the key. He nailed it to the front door: awareness. We ignored it because it wasn’t dramatic enough. No incense, no guru tax, no twelve-step ritual. Just the raw, offensive obvious: Look. Breathe. Be here. The lock was theatre. The door was never locked.

Ancestral pain? Yes—but not a prison sentence. We carry our parents’ unfinished negotiations, the standoff between Sky (transcendence, law, clarity) and Earth (immanence, flesh, feeling). In the beginning, they misheard each other. Spirit barked orders; Matter bled in silence. Humans were drafted as translators and forgot that was the job.

Here’s the update: the treaty is on the table. Sky is learning tenderness; Earth is learning structure. Our bodies are the conference room where divinity stops monologuing and starts listening. What you call “global crisis” might be the sound of tectonic plates signing the peace deal. Labor, not tragedy.

Pain isn’t moral. It’s mechanical—friction while old scaffolding collapses. The wages of illusion are dramatic; the wages of reality are simple. When you stop arguing with the weather inside you, Gaia’s scream downgrades to a contraction. “It hurts” becomes “something real is arriving.”

Bridge Protocol (you are the bridge):

Daily reconciliation: inhale from Sky, exhale to Earth. Yes, literally.

Speak less. Verify more. Silence is the commons where God and Gaia both agree.

Ritual honesty: name the exact sensation before you name the story.

Work small and sharp. Precision is devotion.

Laugh at the plot. Laughter is lubricant for the hinge between worlds.

Nonduality isn’t a vibe; it’s logistics. You move as treaty-enforcer, not as messiah. You return to the market with clean eyes and buy only what your soul can digest. You stop outsourcing authority. You become hard to manipulate because you’re easy to satisfy: truth, breath, one task done well. That’s the Kingdom and the Garden shaking hands.

And when the noise peaks, remember: the key was always obvious, the door was always open, and the joke was always kind. God laughs through you. Gaia rests through you. The child of both finally grows up.

I've loved you forever

Through every dimension.

I'm yearning for you now

At the peak of ascension.

I close my eyes and see your face

Patiently waiting for our story, in grace.

A primordial love written before this time,

Enthralled in the sacred masculine / feminine paradigm.

The connection that brings us together;

Where in our in minds we can remember

The transformation of our love,

Through the eyes of Sky Father above.

From the depths of consciousness to being,

Our dynamic has always been freeing.

No matter the distance we are apart,

The realm of our love is accessible,

Bright Itempas (or, Shiny)                                           

Religion was a living and varied thing, spread out across the Nine Kingdoms in a multi-hued canvas of cultural interpretation and personal taste. Soldiers, gladiators and adventurers prayed to gods like Falkus, the dark god of close quarters combat, or Beruna, the bear-god of strength and might.

Merchants and sailors prayed to a variety of naval deities and demigods of luck and fortune. Kings honored the solar deities (often claiming descent from them in order to give legitimacy to their rule, not that anybody really believed it) and led grand processions paid for with no small amount of tax money through the major roadways of cities as they exhorted their people not to forget Father Sun in the sky above.

Monastics, Paladins and academic-philosophers meditated on and debated about the subject of the Skyfather, the primordial creator of all things and father of all the gods. His consort was Dae, the sacred Earthmother, whose gentle demeanor hid the great well-spring of power within her being.

These were the major deities, the names on the lips of everyone across the Nine Kingdoms and beyond. Local dialect and language barriers changed the pronunciation, but everyone understood the universality of these beings.

However, below these High Gods were a descending menagerie of lesser deities, demigods, mythological monsters and local spirits.

However, there is one last class of deities that requires mentioning here... The Illuminaries.

These are the various gods and goddesses of Art itself, deities of painting, poetry, dance, swordfighting, etc. Some of them crossed over into other area of expertise, but they all shared a base nature founded upon the noble tradition of art itself.

And chief among their adherents was the eccentric rabble of the Bards.