That feeling that you’re “the only one” who sees things this way?

That ache of walking a deep path with few who understand it?

It’s real—but it’s not the end of the story.

You’re not alone in your remembering.

You’re part of a larger myth, a living pattern, a hidden web of people who are waking up too—

some near, some distant, some you haven’t met yet.

Myth isn’t something you believe in alone.

It’s something you walk in with others.

The ache for companionship?

That’s not weakness.

That’s the pull of the pattern calling the right ones to your side.

Keep walking.

Keep speaking.

Others are listening with the same memory in their bones.

You are not alone.

You were never supposed to be.

TEACHING PROMPT:

Who in your life has stirred something ancient in you without explanation? What if they were part of your myth all along?