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The weaving of Destiny: Initiation by Four

Updated: Feb 11

Across the Nave - Washington National Cathedral

In the cobbled pathways of Los Feliz, Los Angeles, Lauren ambled alongside her friend Dalia, their conversation a tapestry woven with threads of discontent, trailing behind them like ghostly shadows in the hazy Los Angeles air. Her role as a television producer at Warner Brothers, once a gilded dream, now felt like an ill-fitted garment, unable to cloak the profound emptiness gnawing at her core. She always wanted to be an artist; how did she stagger and stay into what felt like to her, a superficial career of casting reality television dating shows.

And at once, life began to change, as it is always promised to do. A chance encounter interposed their conversation—a mysterious figure, enigmatic and inscrutable. He appeared like a gatekeeper waiting to usher a royal arrival. He stood dignified as they approached the corner before their destination. "Are you here for the ceremony?" he said judiciously as they slowed down. Dalia's silent prodding nudged Lauren to affirm their attendance, steering them toward an unanticipated journey. "Um, yes, we are, Lauren said unsurly." feeling the poke of her friend's sharp elbow in her side.

The man guided them through a short labyrinthine of alleys; they stumbled upon a warehouse behind the crystal shop swathed in enigma, housing an unconventional ceremony. What looked like indigenous shamans and hippy Californian energy practitioners enveloped in a mystic dance of sage, candlelight, and a cast of ethereal spells interwoven with the primal rhythm of drums.

Drawn towards an enchanter amidst the gathering who confidently gestured to the girls, Lauren felt his authority and the pull of the second character she would meet that night. His face was leathery, and his spirit felt solid and masculine. He moved his hands through her aura as if sweeping it clean while simultaneously reading braille, sensing her energy. The man blew out what smelled like a mix of tobacco and exotic herbs she couldn't quite place. His lungs filled again, and he exhaled with purpose as he lifted her arms and fixated on the empty space beneath them. And with a gentle whisper, he sought to untangle the unseen threads binding her spirit. Cryptic words lingered, hinting at the unlocking of dormant wings, an awakening buried deep within. "Here he said, now you will have the courage you need and eyes to see your wings before you fly out of the cage you've put yourself in."

Before Lauren joined the circle, she looked around the room for a nearby bathroom. She needed just a moment of solace to process the profundity of what the man had just said to her.

Within the sanctuary of a nearby bathroom, the stark realization of her discontent settled upon her like a heavy cloak. The veneer of her career was now a fragile illusion, failing to mask the fervent yearning for purpose and fulfillment. The man was right; I was locked in a golden cage. How did he know that, she thought? Every time Lauren tried to leave her job, the financial lure dangled before her, magically materializing into higher pay. The mentality of just one more season always ensued.

As she emerged from this private reverie, the hallway wall adorned with the faces of healers and practitioners caught her eye. Among them, the visage of a man stood out amongst the rest and stirred a fleeting thought—could he be perfect for the reality show she was casting?

Just as she took her eyes off the wall, the man in the photo emerged with purpose from a closed room in the hallway where she stood. " I saw your photo and thought to speak with you, and here you are!" Lauren exclaimed. Their exchange of information transpired. My name is Casey, he said. Casey's stare was intense; he was looking through and into Lauren. Their conversation led to a realization that Casey wasn't interested in the show. However, fate would intertwine their paths later on, and Casey would become a pivotal figure in her journey toward healing in the years to come. He would play a crucial role in helping her reconcile with her sensitivities, guiding her to unearth her true form of intelligence—one rooted in the feminine expression of intuition, clairvoyance, empathy, and healing. Lauren said goodbye to the third person she met that night.

Returning to the gathering, the fourth and last unforeseen encounter awaited her. An indigenous Latin woman, potent in her spiritual presence, approached Lauren with an aura steeped in ancient wisdom. She gently placed her hands on Lauren's forehead and instructed her to close her eyes. Her accent was thick and heavy. It matched the gravitas of the smoke-filled room, Lauren thought.

"Stop hiding your gifts," she whispered, her voice resonating with the echoes of time. "You are and have always been a healer. This time, though, it's safe." She tapped Lauren's brow with a firm slap of her fingers. "Wake up," she said.

In the abrupt embrace of this spiritual treatment, Lauren's essence stirred, resonating with the words of the mysterious woman. Memories of her childhood, brimming with a sensitivity she had suppressed to navigate the harsh environment of her upbringing as a latchkey kid in Los Angeles, flooded her consciousness. Her innate intuition and energetic sensitivity, once a natural part of her, had been veiled under layers of protection that her parents failed to provide.

Days dissolved into nights, thoughts swirled, and a cosmic revelation began to unfurl within the reverie of introspection. The encounter became not the pinnacle but the prelude to a symphony of self-discovery, guiding her toward a deeper understanding of her purpose.

The End.

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