The fire spoke in flickers and crackles, its voice mingling with the steady rhythm of drums. The Valley of the Gods loomed around us, ancient and unyielding, their shadowed forms imbued with a timeless presence. The ritual was a dance of surrender, and I found myself circling the flames, my body moving in time with something far older than I could name.

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As I danced, the boundary between myself and the world began to dissolve. The heat of the fire seemed to enter me, merging with the pounding of my heart, and soon there was no distinction between the external and the internal. My eyes closed of their own accord, and the ordinary world fell away.

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In the void, a luminous being emerged—a great eagle, vast and brilliant, its form made entirely of light. It did not come to me as a distant image but as an overwhelming force. I felt it, ancient and commanding, entering into my being. Its wings beat with the rhythm of eternity, and in that moment, I understood: this was not a choice. Garuda had chosen me.

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Its presence reshaped everything. I began to see with new eyes, as if the world had been peeled back to reveal its inner workings. The patterns I once overlooked now stood illuminated: the flowing lines of Haida art, alive with stories of transformation; the intricate rhythms of the Mayan Tzolkin calendar, a map of cosmic cycles. These were not abstractions; they were teachings left by those who had walked the path before me.

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From this understanding, the garments emerged—not as creations of fabric and thread but as vessels of power, as reminders of the unseen forces that weave through all things. Each piece holds the rhythm of the 13 Moon Calendar, the primal strength of an eagle in flight, and the quiet wisdom of the San Juan River whispering under the desert sky.

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But Garuda’s call does not end with creation. It demands movement, flight. Soon, it will extend its wings to others, calling them to gather in places where transformation takes root—retreats imbued with the power of plant medicines, spaces for seekers to dissolve the barriers between themselves and the eternal.

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Garuda is not a symbol or a name. It is a path—a journey into the unknown, a flight beyond the limits of perception. Those who answer its call will find not garments, but wings, and the courage to rise into the vastness of the infinite.