Weaving Story

​Woven into the bones of memory,

Threaded through the pulse of consciousness,

Stitched into the skin of existence

There lives Story.​

Story a living, breathing, life-affirming being,

too wild to be caged by the written word.​

Story wisdom keeper, world traveler, pain transmuter, joy generator, 

the alchemist of unseen worlds.

​​She slips between heartbeats.

He leans close when you aren’t looking.

Story meets us in the right place, at the right time, when the air hums and the ancient stirs inside us.​​

Story a deep, aching hunger draws us to you.  A longing to remember. A longing to belong. You remind us that creation and destruction breathe through the same mouth. You show us that endings are simply the hush before the next beginning. 

You slip the mask from our faces and whisper us back into the depths of ourselves.​

We thank you

For waking what we thought was lost. We honour your power to weave invisible threads between us, between land and sky, between past and future. ​

We marvel at your magic 

How you crack open the hard shells we've grown around our hearts

How you thread us back into the living cosmos through sound and image, breath and beat.​

Story You are the bridge. The insight. The remembering. The way home.​

And so, in our aliveness, we vow With the wild thrum of life flowing through us, we vow. 

We vow ​To honour the vastness of you. To carry your embers forward.

To tend your flame as those before us did, crouched close around firelight.

We promise to let you shape us,

break us,

make us new.

To let your ancient roots twine through the fabric of our lives — just as they did in times when we knew the land as kin.​

Story Find us. Choose us.

Take us deep into your dreaming places.​

We are ready.

We are listening.

We are here.