The Long Road

In just a few short hours I will be heading off on a road trip that will take me all the way back to the very fountain, setting in the center of the gardens it took me nearly 4 years to build, where this very story began. It was there, in that same garden where I woke up one morning to find a single peacock feather unexplainably lying in that lion head fountain. The same feather that crowns the entry way into my altar room, looking down on me as I write these very words.

Hard to imagine such a tiny thing having the ability to begin such an epic journey. If that feather had never appeared my tale would have never taken the direction it did. I might not be so connected to Hera, this blog might not exist for the world to see, and so many countless adventures might never have been had.

From that feather came all of it. This written account, The Journeybook videos that chronicle my journey beyond the written word, the digital art, stone carvings, grande altar room, my defiance against Zeus. It has permeated nearly every aspect of my existence from the mundane to the unbelievable. The later being the motivation for the video series. Having it captured on video and thousands of photos does tend to lend to credibility. In this age people like to watch adventure such as this more than simply reading about them. They want to see it. And thus far I have done pretty well at giving them that opportunity.

My path was of course raging on long before this all came to pass. It took me the better part of 20 years to become what I am today and be chosen for this journey. Prior to discovering the feather and finding myself on this quest I had little to do with the old Gods, didn't really care for any of them. I was raised in a rustic countryside environment, came out of the forest to become a well known warrior in the world wide pagan community. From warrior I rose to become a pagan king. Challenged by over 20 men over the years for my crown and title and to this day that crown and title remain undefeated. As king I created one of the most powerful, impactful, revolutionary, and nearly undefinable pagan dynamics to ever exist. Unlike the modern re-constructionist who tend to the lambs I only tended to the lions.
Thousands of them came and over the years thousands of them fell. In spite of everything they believed to be true about themselves they simply could not endure. Until finally, there was no one left and I sat there on that throne all but alone. The great hall I ruled over and all of its people had fallen. Yet, I remain.

I'm not always sure what it is that drives me on beyond the limits of all others. Perhaps it is fearing the shame that might come in leaving such a tale abandoned and unfinished. Perhaps it has nothing to do with me at all. It may not be my will pushing me forward down a path I can scarcely see nor hardly believe myself.

This morning, as I set here before the Altar of Hera, preparing for the long journey back to where this all started I can vividly see the path behind me. I can see every loss, feel every pain and the kind of exhaustion that only comes from traveling a path too far, for too long, and knowing that you are still no where near the end of it - you never will be. The beginning and the end no longer matter. There is only the climb.

If I succeed in what is to come just this year I will have bested Zeus himself, won the heart of Hera, will sip honeyed wine made from a thousand thunderstorms, and hold the power of lightning in the palm of my hand. All for the world to see in word, video, and photographic glory every single step of the way.

And then what?

You see? It's not the Gods that put the questions in my mind.
It's eternity.