Earth, mother and friends, you cross our heart. Hello, hello, hello, and welcome to the Lowly Yogi Tales and Other Stuff podcast. Welcome from the multiverse, wherever you find yourself vibrating. Attune this way, and let us have some fun. Today, join as we wander in auspicious coincidence together. Well, hello again and welcome back to the Lowly Yogi Tales and Other Stuff podcast. It's so good to have you here. We are at an interesting moment as the final story of Spirit Foot is the first story of Spirit Foot. I was thinking, how do I share with you all this amazing moment that, uh, where the end actually did become the beginning. Because the very first story that came through was Kama's Return. And that's the very last story to be told. So today we're going to tell it. I, uh, I just find it amazing. It blew my mind that I knew there was no more to write when I wrote myself to the beginning of my very first story. How fun is that? Alright, here we go. Commas return. I'm going to start at the very introduction so you'll have it all. Sing, oh, bards of days when yogis roamed, and the silliest of them all was a mild and friendly soul. Hands folded in love, it will be an honor to sing the crystals of memory and share with you the stories of the lowly yogi, Spirit Foot. An interesting character to be sure, her songs are rare and can only be found in the old blood. Let us recount the tales of the great yogi who loved the spirits more than her own foot. Now the realm of beauty is a dangerous place for humans and spirits alike, and we all need someone to come alongside us to help hold the weight when it gets hard. Spirit Foot was that kind of yogi. She did it with her foot. Don't underestimate this act of kindness. Just sit back and listen to her journeys. The first tale to be illuminated by the torch of the muses. Do you all know what a yogi is? Not the title, the act. Your silence speaks to an empty glass. Fill, drink, and I will share more. There are many ways to practice as a yogi. Many forms one can hold in the field of mind. There is a practice within the many that holds all the 10, 000 things up at once. This yoga is that which comes from honoring the mother. Spirit foot is one of the luminaries of this lineage. Shorter than some, taller than many, how do you describe a human being? Two arms, two legs, ten fingers, ten toes, all blessings. The spirit of a Vajra Queen and completely useless in the way that she meets and holds up the 10, 000 things. Magic was her second nature. Her first was love. And that is the secret key that unlocks the chest of her memories. Let us place our attention with Lady Memory. So that her muses may share every tale, first to last, with an order that would please Spiritfoot and teach us all the secrets of kindness and love. Commas. Love's return. At the very beginning of creation, in the four ages as we know them, there was a loss. The great potency of fire itself was hidden away for the protection of the upstart gods, who had decided to take up the task of holding up the many laws of Mother's creation. Young and untempered, these new gods found that the fire of pure creation was beyond their means to hold. To touch it was to be burnt. To the core, with no hope of return for those gods, and so, with kindness, allowing each god to be in their nature. The Great Mother hid this fire in a steed, an unbreakable horse, whose breath was and is the adamantine, smokeless fire of Shiva's terrible wrath, and pristine creation, the fire which invokes the deepest, darkest mother's blood effortlessly. This indomitable steed was gifted to the ancient god Oceanus. The ocean ground of us all, until the new gods had their time, and comma, the steed of steeds may return for the benefit of gods and humans alike. Dusting the crystals of memory, we find time. Spirit foot lived, as do all the great yogis in the realm of beauty. A testing ground for the heroes who wish to find the middle way. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And in this realm, all is judged according to its ability to endure. In the realm of beauty, the greatest or most potent law endures. There is a law that endures all others, and Spirit Foot held this law. You know it, as do we all, but not as a law. It is, however, the most potent of them all. Love. Love had been lost to Shiva's terrible wrath, burnt up due to distracting. Shiva's Samadhi. Shiva's yogic responsibility is not small. One moment under the light of his terrible wrath, and kama, love, was no more. This was the natural outcome of the falling of the fourth pillar, leaving the mother to hold the weight of all her laws without the help of the creative fire of love. The falling of the fourth pillar brought Shiva's rage to yoke all beings. Heavy, dark, and merciless, creation split into three, allowing the darkness of Mara and the bull headed demon king to reign supreme. Yogis like Spiritfoot flourish in the Dark Ages, as there is no end of need for their services. There are some, like the great Spiritfoot, who have a specific role, a role to bring about prophecies. All the tellings of Kama's demise is the illumination of a journey. When Shiva opened his third eye, the rage of his wrath destroyed, in a thoughtless moment, all of the warmth and love we have for each other, leaving only duty and law. An unending descent into law. Neglect and decay until all beings found themselves trapped in a great drift. A yogi of the Great Mother's lineage hears a prophecy, and upon hearing, a part of their being awakens, and they find themselves set to a task that only they know how to complete. The vivacious prankster found herself cracked open as her blood showed her the story of creation and Shiva's transgression, or truly, his support in the transition of the ages. His treasure is said to be hard to find, that it is compared to that of a tale of a giant tortoise, who resides under the waves of the oceans, and only arises to the surface every thousand years. It is added that the chances of that tortoise rising while a golden ring or a golden hoop is dropped randomly on that ocean. The chances of that hoop falling around that tortoise's neck is the same possibility of finding Shiva's creative love in the neglect. A being can go thousands of years in the Dark Age and never hear or know love, joy, or creation. This, the task of finding Kama and bringing love back, was the task. Set forth by the Great Mother for Spiritfoot. Miss opened and the crystal memories danced as the story of Kama's death and internment in the great stallion Windhorse. She watched as the mother shared how love disturbed the deep creative and called to the mother, Nade to be found. Spearfoot watched as she was given her role. She watched as the firesteed was taken to the master of the water, the titan who turns not away. demons and gods alike are welcome and protected in his great love the great nursemaid of the fresh waters all of the many emanations of Shiva's fire find protection in his depths for only he can hold the fire of Shiva's potency and wield his wrath without harm She watched as the realm of beauty opened in her mind's eye. She saw the many paths and the gates that must be crossed to meet her task, and laughed, oh what fun we will have, so many tests and trials. She knew her way was the right way, and found a joy blossom in her heart, as she felt the alignment of her purpose come into focus. The vision settled further to share how only the most ancient blood, the blood of the depths of the ocean itself can hold the fire without consuming the holder to ash. Spirit Foot comes by her name honestly. She loves the spirits and as the task became clear she knew that only her friendship and love of spirit would be her path to success. The vision concluded with a horror of the warning, what would transpire if she chose to ignore her role. The depths of neglect formed into putrid acid, devouring all in resentment and shame. Spiritfoot smiled, confident in emptiness, and knowing the worst case would never come to pass on her watch. To find the steed of love and return Kama to mother's creation, only then could Shiva marry his love and learn the tempering of his wrath so that all of the mother's children might be protected in his creative, in the form of warmth, passion, joy, and attuned love. Excitement filled her being with purpose. The purpose, the golden age. She found herself giddy in her element. The unknown resonating out. Pure unknown potential at her beck and call. Nothing was needed, and she had an abundance of that. She gathered her magic and opened her mind and body to the journey to come. To trust the space was her expertise. And this was not her first rodeo. Her life had led her to this moment, and she was ready. Time to turn the times. To be a part of the mystery, this is the dance and the joy of the yogi, and Spirit Foot loved this dance. Trust the mother. Hold in the middle way, and there is no territory in the realm of beauty one cannot wander. Now, many readers may not grasp the full challenge of wandering the realm of beauty. Name does not share, although does point out the danger of the horrors. The danger of the hero's testing grounds. In the realm where law is tested and judged, matched in competition, and the strongest endures. Not a realm of kindness, although kindness endures all other laws. It is the only law that passes through the eye of the dragon, as it is lighter than a feather. This is the law that Spiritfoot has been tasked with finding and bringing back so that there might be warmth and love once again. The mother's last boon at the turning of the ages must be realized so that the Golden Age may hold the field again in the vibration of the mother's love. Who would not feel honored in being a part of making that happen? Now let us set the stage a bit. The mother at the end of the four ages is no picnic in the park. Shame reigns supreme. The naga's laws of the mother fall into neglect without fire to hold them up. Their venom oozes into all corners of creation, and the black of the racket reigns in the demon's dance of neglect. Racket is a dance of feeding on creation to pay the debts of the gods. For every desire there is a price, creative attention, fire of mind, the currency. The ground is consent, and the trick is underestimating its wrath to drain to the end. This is okay, as the end is the beginning. When all creative is devoured to its end, a desire forms. At the end is the beginning. With death, there is life. In neglect, there resides fire to meet it. The fire does not just devour. It transforms all into an offering, proper for each and every god. At the end, when only she is left to hold the weight, alone as none can hold the weight of shame and resentment but her, when the surrender is complete and the depths of their horror at their fullest display, the mother's only request, the boon for her great sacrifice, is for the fire of love to be brought back from the unmerciless blaze of Shiva's terrible wrath. Time dances for yogis like spirit foot. It is a pulse that instructs and guides through auspicious coincidence. There's no going against the will of spirits. You see, the understated beauty. A deep warrior spirit foot in no way naive to the pitfalls and temptations of the age of Kali Ma. Her blood, a chi deeply trained in the mysteries of the great mother. She was a poison eater, a blue throat, lover of Shiva, and there was no blood unsafe for the illumination of her mind. No place in the mother's creation that she could not love. The Middle Way is understated. It is beauty, and so is Spiritfoot, all the displays of the Mother available to her. She chose to wander in the freedom of understatement. Like all true Agores, being desired, seen as a useful being, gets in the way of holding up the ten thousand things that is the Great Mother creation. One spirit foot was a young yogi, fresh to the practice of training one's mind. She found that if her path crossed a prophecy, she would be both driven and helped by the world of spirit to help it come to pass. This is the reason she came to know and love the realm of spirits so well. When you love spirits and spirits love you as well, there is nothing that cannot be accomplished in this realm of beauty. They are the key holders to the backstage of reality. When they start opening these doors for the yogi, no end of fun can be had. Spirit foot would be the first to tell you that making prophecies come to pass is fun, sometimes painful, and often filled with tasks and rituals to challenge your beingness to the end. How else can you find out how human you are? The prophecy of Kama's return had settled into spirit foot, and now her cells, The very construct of her being guided her on the path that would bring Shiva's wedding to his love, Uma. He needs love as much as the rest of us, to have a happy wife and a happy life. There was no happiness in the darkness of absolute neglect. This is, of course, how Spiritfoot knew it was time to act. The mother would soon ask, as there was no aspect of creation that had not been engulfed in the venom of the Nagas. Shame, resentment, and neglect were the marks of reality that called her into action To move through and meet the neglect is the act of a spiritual warrior. And this is how Spirit Foot found her name and her reputation. If ever there was a spirit in neglect, she would come to them. She offered shelter and nurturing for each spirit in her foot. Together they traveled to find the place, community, human sanctuary that was in need of a spirit's love and healing. Like I said, wandering as a yogi is fun. Our tale begins at the end and creates a new beginning. We will find the time to share, have no concern to share the beginning. But due to prophecy, we must begin at the end. To hold a spirit's shelter, give it love and nurturing, is an act of warriorship. Potency is potency, neutral in its nature. Each spirit is sovereign, and their potency is their discretion to wield. Meeting your world with love is the best kind of manners. There is no being, human or otherwise, that does not enjoy its warmth. This was Spirit Foot's way, and why she had been given the task to bring love's fire back from the ocean depths. Ahaha, the first half of Kanna's return. It felt very good to read. I hope it felt very good to hear. And you have found me once again. Welcome to the Lowly Yogi Tales. I do appreciate you wandering with me in this auspicious coincidence together here with the Spirit Shrine and all. Well, if you do enjoy these stories, please, please share Lowly Yogi Tales and other stuff. Type in Lowly, you'll find me. And if you do appreciate these works and maybe even love them, Well, send some Yogi Cash my way. It's much appreciated, and I will continue having fun and making sacred things in our world. At any rate, I hope you have a wonderful week, a week full of joy, a week full of ease, a week full of nurturing, and yes, some adventures as well. All right. Play us out, Monkey Max. Play us out. Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy Earth mother and friends, You cross our hearth at last. Long have we greyed, While the king of demons had his way. But no longer, no longer, It's time to dance and sing. This is the time when the golden age begins As we welcome love and peace and ease may it never cease Welcome joy and bliss in all the eyes of serpents kiss Welcome mother, welcome child, welcome body tender and mild. Welcome protection, and welcome friends. It's been a long wait, but now the golden age begins. Welcome spring, summer, and fall. Winter is Persephone's and sweetest of all. Welcome immortality. Welcome all, it's time to dance and sing, as the golden age begins. Welcome all you yogis, and we call you in. Welcome all you protectors, and we call you in. Welcome all you yogis, as the golden age begins.