Notes from a Time Traveller by Elke Stevens

by Awenyddion
Seer of the rupture, child of freak occurrence, cartographer of the sacred in-between

I do not walk a straight path. I walk the trail of freak occurrences, the things no one could have predicted, the moments that shatter meaning and give birth to new shapes.

I do not collect things. I collect events, thresholds, initiations, soul-quakes, misunderstandings that turn into portals, conversations that crack open a new future.

I do not follow a map. I feel for what moves me forward, sensing the shape of a choice by what it could become. Every action is a diverging thread, and I am always threading the one that enchants with a deeper knowing.

I am Awenyddion, a mythmaker, yes, but not just of gods and wolves and fire. I make myth from shutdowns and meltdowns. From silence. From the moment someone walked away when I needed them to stay. From the way a body clenches at a request. From the way a system flinches when asked to conform. From the recognition that never came.

I speak not just from story, but from sensation. From what shivers under the skin when you know something’s wrong, but the world calls it dysfunction.

I do not find answers in clarity. I find them in conversation, in the gathering between thoughts, in the gasp when someone sees themselves in your words, in the fertile pause between “I don’t know” and “wait, maybe this…”

I am a liminal scribe. A listener of becoming. A voice that echoes what others haven’t found language for, yet.

“Change does not come of permanence nor of being but of becoming!”

If you find yourself in this:

You are not scattered, you are responding to the pulse of events.
You are not indecisive, you are tracking futures.
You are not broken, you are a living myth, in motion.

Let these words be a match in the fog. Not to show you the whole path.
But to remind you: you are still walking, and you were never alone in the dark.

© Elke T.B. Stevens 06/08/2025