The Mythos of the Holy Nights
The Mythos of the Holy Nights
We have tended the ancestors.
Their voices still echo through our prayers, and the threads we have woven in remembrance now shimmer in the field of light.
As the wheel turns, the direction of the veil begins to shift.
The current that once opened toward the ancestral realm now lifts toward the heavens.
The Earth grows still.
The stars draw near.
The Celestial Veil begins to awaken.
The Holy Nights have long been known as the bridge between worlds.
In the ancient mysteries they were called the nights outside of time, a sacred window when the Archangels sing the world into renewal and the constellations pour their blessings through creation.
It is said that during these nights the dreams of the soul begin to speak.
Our prayers take root in the unseen.
Our intentions are carried by candlelight.
This is the time when the heavens draw near, when creation listens for our voice, and when the soul remembers that it was born of both starlight and soil.
The Temple of the Holy Nights is a living field of prayer, magic, and miracles.
Each evening we enter the Celestial Veil through candlelight and ceremony, guided by the Holy, Whole, and Healed Archangels and the Sacred Trees who hold the wisdom of Heaven and Earth.
We journey from Crown to Root, tending, healing, and clearing each layer of the field.
Then we rise again from Root to Crown, awakening the resonance of divine harmony within the body and reestablishing the holy rhythm of creation itself.
Imagine sitting in the quiet glow of your altar, surrounded by warmth and stillness, your heart opening like a flame in the dark.
The unseen magical world draws close.
The air shimmers with presence.
Light gathers around you in ways you can feel but cannot explain.
Something ancient and benevolent moves through the room, blessing all that you are becoming.
We will gather soon within the Celestial Veil.
Enrollment opens 11/11.
May this season find you listening, attuning, and preparing to enter the holy rhythm that is calling your name.
In Devotion,
Naomi Amaya Love
