How does one undergo their own quest of the Holy Grail?

For me, the Grail manifested itself in my life as a sped up, supercharged initiation that was compounded into a 24-hour holy shit experience of ego refinement that totally triggered, uprooted and illuminated any and all parts of me that were not fully integrated and aligned with my soul’s fullest expression as the embodied Holy Grail! Say what?!

Uh…yes, I’m still alive.

But I am not the same, nor might I ever be. But I get ahead of myself. Let me tell you how it all began:

I’d received the sacred invitation to present at the 18th Annual Fairy & Human Relations Congress back in November of last year. Immediately I entered my sacred meeting place, a point of contact between the worlds where I meet with the invisible forces, my sacred allies and guides to  collaborate and receive guidance from their perspective on matters pertaining to Faery Light’s work in the world.

Should I accept? And if so, what in the world should we present?

No laborious formalities needed (unless we fancy them that day), we got right down to business. The consensus seemed to be a resounding YES to the first question.

The second answer came readily too – although very nonchalantly:

Your work with the Holy Grail and the Faery Hallows seems to be hot in your consciousness. You’ve been presenting the work quite often lately.

Yes of course, I thought. Eureka! Exactly what I needed – something not too stressful with all of the work mostly done.

Ever written something off as super easy, not taking into consideration a major variable?

Yeah well, the week before the Fairy Congress I was eating my words. Suddenly, the previous lesson plan was not working for me. Reading through it, I cringed. I am not feeling this, I thought to myself.

Realizing I was at a new level of consciousness than the last time I’d taught the material (and apparently so were the soon-to-be-attendees that I was going to be teaching), I no longer resonated with the lesson plan I’d already designed and implemented so many times.

So I tried everything…and quickly. I only had one week, and I was no closer to a lesson plan than if I’d started from scratch! Yikes!

I reworked it.

I called in my allies and danced around, shaking my rattle.

I spoke it aloud free flow style while recording myself, presenting it to “no one.”

Getting desperate, I printed it out, cut it up and rearranged it intuitively (left brain be gone, I say!).

Lastly, I tried the old post-it notes + poster board and tried mapping it out.

Finally something I could work with. After days of toiling my class had transformed into something that felt good. My nervous system finally settled down and I knew peace once again.

I printed out the final draft of outline and notes, placed them in a folder and packed my bags.

“Fairy Congress here I come!” I declared aloud.

Next stop: Skalitude Retreat (home of the Fairy Congress)
I arrived with all the cheerful glee of a kid in a candy store. The drive had been beautiful, not to mention the company had been grand. Two of us presenters and one worktrade attendee had been paired up to carpool. By the end of our 4.5 hour drive, we were three peas in a pod.

I found my way to my accommodations up the hill and around the corner. Wow! What a view! The mountains were spectacular.

I unpacked and sat down on my bed by the window, and there standing in the doorway were two native Sidhe. They had spears in hand, and their heads and bodies were adorned with vibrant feathers.

Now for those of you who don’t know, the Sidhe or Faery people, while more widely known of in the Celtic and Scandinavian lands, exist everywhere on the planet, of course. Only I had never met this group before.

They bid me welcome, and offered me a cryptic message: “You are the Sidhe.” Didn’t they mean “we are the Sidhe”? Had I heard them wrong?

That night I lay awake, tossing and turning. Exhausted from both the travel and the time zone change, I’d retired early thinking I would easily drift into the dream plane and possibly receive some last minute guidance for my first class I was scheduled to present the following day.

Instead I barely slept a wink! When I did it was fitful. It was 4am and I awoke with a start – drat! It was getting light out, and the birds decided my lack of sleep was no concern of theirs.

Dread set in. The image of a cat with its hair standing on end was rolling through my mind.

Oh god! I have to present today, I thought. I grabbed my notes and outline, suddenly terrified by the idea of teaching this class. What was happening to me? What was this visceral fear that was gripping me from the inside out?

I jumped up. A walk. A shower. Anything. I needed to do something. I slunk my way to the coffee and tea tent hoping to avoid any and all conversation. Surely I would not be able to form a coherent sentence if greeted by another human. No, I needed to remain unseen. At least long enough for me to get my shit together. What was wrong with me?

Barefoot, but with coffee in hand, I made it back. Somewhere along the way I’d abandoned my shoes as if it were a last ditch effort to find my bearings in this highly charged place of power.

I stared, eyes glazed over, at my notes once again. None of the words made any sense. I might have been reading gibberish. What had I been thinking! I could barely understand the structure of what I’d put together.

But only days ago, it was perfect and I’d felt so good about it, I thought to myself. Now, hardly cohesive, it was like I was staring at a pile of cow dung.

That’s when I started to panic. Everything was falling apart. I could see the shingles of my neatly ordered life crumbling down. Like deep sea diving in murky water, I couldn’t figure out which way was up and which was down. Totally turned around, and not knowing which direction to turn to come up for air. For a moment, I just may have gone mad….

I heard a familiar voice, “Put your notes down, Diomira.” I’d been clutching them for dear life, as if they were my only connection to a world I’d once known. I could feel the light at the end of the tunnel slipping away. And this voice wanted me to let go of my only tether to the familiar landscape?

The notes tumbled from my hands. And the last point of known visible light disappeared…forever.

Zero point. I think I remember you. But who am I? Suddenly I couldn’t remember.

The room was now feeling very small. I burst out the doors into the fresh air and sunlight like a wild animal escaping from its captivity. I ran through the hills, down into the valley. In the center of the Congress are classroom tents, a large blow-up Earth, a flag-lined ceremonial space where the fires of Fairy Congress remain lit, a crossroads circle also for ceremony.

Rushing past all of it, I found myself standing at the entrance of an ancient Faery glyph carved into the ground. Like a large labyrinth that one can wind their way through it. Unlike a labyrinth, it has many turns and decisions to make.

I began to walk. Instead of calculating and strategizing which way to go, I was inclined to let go and trust.

The first crossroads appeared – right or left? Or straight?

Go straight.

Winding pathways. And the grasses were so tall on either side, I couldn’t see much past several feet in front of me.

Keep going.

One spiral path lasted forever. Fear. I wondered if I’d made a wrong turn.

Trust yourself.

As if by miracle, I found myself standing on the threshold, looking back admiringly at the journey. Somehow I’d made it all the way through, tracing my way around the entrancing Faery symbol.

When I got back to my room, I found my notes laying on the floor. Temptation to pick them up to review came on full force. But they weren’t the answer. Walking the pathways of the glyph had somehow put me back together again, but not in the same way I was before. It had reordered and reconfigured my consciousness. I was different.

My class was scheduled to start in less than an hour. I made my way back down the now familiar hill. As I scaled its steep pathways, a company of Faery beings drew near. Our energy fields connected, a familiar signal that a communication between us was to take place.

You do realize you signed yourself up to teach on the Holy Grail. Did you really think it was possible to beautifully exemplify and embody this without undergoing your own personal quest of the Holy Grail yourself? Welcome to the other side of your initiation.

The streaking light of realization dawned like the morning sun. Not I, but the fully embodied Grail within me, would teach the class. And just in the niche of time too!

I walked into the Sky Lodge, the main tent. The beings of the land as well as my Faery and Sidhe contacts were already present. The energy was palpable; it pervaded the atoms of the air and surged up through my hands and feet. I felt grounded and confident.

I found my seat just as the students began to trickle in, one by one. I could see this was going to be quite a large class. I took a breath and smiled. With that I stood and began.

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