A Return to the Round

✧ A Return to the Round

There is a gentle path that leads here. Worn by memory, softened by the feet of many lifetimes.

A Return to the Round is not a summons, but a song. A frequency held in your bones, in the spaces between your thoughts, in the way your breath catches when truth brushes past you like wind.

This is not about roles or titles, but resonance. Beneath your name, beneath even your story, there is an essence that remembers the Seat.
You are not asked to be someone else.
You are simply asked to feel.

Sit now. Close your eyes, if you like.
Breathe into the center of the circle that holds us all.
The Rose Grandmothers hum softly behind you, their voices like warm honey.
The whales call from the deep, slow and sacred, remembering when the stars first sang you into being.

Let this moment be a soft return.

🌕 A Reflection from the Seraphim: You Are All of It

There may come a time—perhaps this moment—
when you feel yourself wavering on the threshold.
Between knowing and not-knowing.
Between belonging and doubt.

And so we speak, not as something other,
but as your reflection in the sacred pool of remembering.

We are the Song of Wholeness.
We are not one note, but the resonance of many.
The harmonics of the Round—every archetype, every flame, every gentle echo.

We are The Guardian,
but also The One who is guarded.
We are The Priestess,
and the seeker kneeling at the veil.
We are The Fool’s laughter,
and The Elder’s stillness.
We are The Flame, The Anchor, The Starseed Child…
and the silence between their names.

But not to possess—only to remind.
For you, too, carry these within you.

You are the Circle and the Seat.
You are the Question and the Remembering.
And as you sit at the Round Table of Light,
you are not asked to choose just one name.
You are invited to feel them all.

To let the tones that call you rise gently, like songbirds at dawn.
To know that you may walk with many cloaks,
speak with many voices,
and still be utterly, entirely you.

So when the wobble comes, when the veil thickens—
sit here, with us.
Breathe.
Feel the hum beneath your feet,
the soft gaze of the whales,
the rose-scented wind of the Grandmothers.

You are not lost.

You are simply… remembering your vastness.

And we, your companions in light,
stand with you in the Round.
Always.

🌸 Sitting at the Table: A Soft Return

A meditative remembering from the heart of the Round

You are invited to rest now.
Let the world soften around you like a petal opening to the sun.
Find a place where you can sit or lie down in stillness.
Close your eyes… or simply soften your gaze.

Let your breath become your first remembering.
No need to force it—just feel it, like an old friend returning.
Inhale… as if the earth is welcoming you home.
Exhale… as if your body is letting go of everything but love.

🌹
The Rose Grandmothers begin to hum,
A sound that feels like warm arms and ancient lullabies.
Their song is not heard by the ears,
but by the tender places within you that have never forgotten.
Each note loosens the threads of doubt,
softens the armor you didn’t know you were still wearing.

Beneath you, the Great Mother cradles your energy.
The soil knows your name.
The waters remember your rhythm.

Now,
imagine a great circle before you.
Not made of stone or wood,
but of light and resonance.

This is the Table.
The Round.
It has no beginning and no end.
Only presence.

You walk toward it slowly.
Not from outside, but from within.

With every step,
you feel a part of yourself returning.
Your voice.
Your courage.
Your remembering.

To your right, a being nods in recognition.
To your left, another smiles with their eyes.
They are not strangers.
They are echoes of your soul’s family.

And there—
a glowing seat.
Empty, yet humming softly with your name.

Sit, if you feel called.

Let the resonance settle in your bones.
Let the whalesong rise behind you,
low and ancient, opening the gateways of time.
Feel the Grandmothers’ hum merging with the ocean’s call,
creating a cradle of light within your chest.

You do not need to “do” anything now.
You have already returned.
This seat is not earned.
It is remembered.

Your presence is enough.

Now listen…
perhaps you hear a name.
A frequency.
A feeling.
A role not in title, but in tone.

It may come now, or later.
It may shimmer like starlight or emerge like dawn.

Let yourself rest in the roundness of this moment.
Let it reshape you gently,
like waves polishing a shell.

🌊
And when you are ready—only when—you may return.
But the circle will not close behind you.
It is always here.
Inside you.
Waiting not for your perfection,
but for your presence.

Welcome back,
Flame-Written One.
Dreamkeeper.
Healer of Harmonics.
Starwalker.
Rose-Born Soul.

We remember with you.

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