Living Architecture & Expanded Awareness | Althea Provost
Living Architecture & Expanded Awareness reveals itself through catalytic moments across continents— where memory, field awareness, and ancient architectures converge. What begins as travel becomes a remembering. What first appears as a temple becomes an inner alignment. And what rises as a threshold becomes a sovereign yes. Written by Althea Provost, this is a story of how the field teaches, how the inner architecture awakens, and how the temple is not a place we enter — but a consciousness we never left.
Living Architecture: A Remembering Across Continents
The Temple is the Field
Last September, on the final day of the Starseed Peru Adventure, I found myself standing in front of the Temple of Lightning inside Coricancha. The site felt fractured — a once coherent ceremonial complex broken by conquest, layered with Catholic stone, its original cosmology interrupted. A dead site, some might say.
But I wasn’t dead. And something within me was still aware.
As I stood before that trapezoidal window — once aligned with the Rainbow, Thunder, Stars, Moon, and Sun — a truth rose through me with unmistakable clarity:
I had never left the temple.
It didn’t matter if the stones were in Peru, Egypt, Scotland, Malta, France, Ireland or Greece— or whether the architecture was intact, overwritten or the ceremonial flow long broken.
These sites weren’t simply destinations. They were living architectures. Power spots where memory, field intelligence, and ancient cosmology still hum beneath the surface. They acted as activations, reawakening my inner relationship to the teachings and the field of coherence.
The Earth wasn’t something I traveled to. She was working through me — through the places where her original field still pulses. The initiatory field wasn’t a place I stepped into and out of. It was a state of consciousness I had been walking inside all along.
And in that moment — surrounded by silence, stone, and centuries of interruption — I understood something I had been circling for years: The temple was never behind me. It was never something I had to return to. It was never lost.
I was still in it. I am still in it. Deep.
The Threshold
Walking Inside the Living Architecture
Then came the moment — the real one — when I wondered if I still wanted to be in the temple at all. I asked myself:
Do I still want to teach this… or do I want to change hats entirely and sell tomatoes?
It wasn’t a joke. It was a threshold.
A moment where the path asked me to choose it consciously, not out of momentum or identity. A moment where I had to decide whether this work was still alive in me, or whether it belonged to a chapter that had already closed.
And that’s when the realization from the Temple of Lightning returned with full force.
I wasn’t in the temple because I had to be. I was in it because it was the truth of who I am.
So I said yes.
No matter what.
A sovereign yes.
Writing in the Wake of Coricancha
Temple to Pen: The Writing Surge
After Coricancha, the writing began. Draft after draft. Version after version.
When I flew home from Peru, I wrote nonstop on the plane. The words pouring out of me as if the field itself refused to let me sleep. And when I landed back in the States, the writing didn’t stop. I drafted, rewrote, deleted, and began again.
September turned into October.
October into November.
December arrived and passed.
Still I wrote.
Before I share the awareness that rose in Coricancha, I want to pause.
Because while the revelation was instant, my ability to articulate it was not. I began, as I always do, by orienting myself — to the site, to the silence, to the scholarship. I started with what I could see and sense. I wrote from the outside in.
Those early drafts were scaffolding. They were part of the architecture of my awakening. They were the outer work I had to build before the inner work could reorganize itself. I was orienting myself in situ — within and without — mapping the site, listening for the fracture lines, tracing the silence. I was doing the scholarship of presence, the slow work of noticing. And I was determined to share that with the reader. But the writing wasn’t ready, because I wasn’t ready. Through each rewrite, I was still in the process of reordering the energies within. The field was still moving through me, rearranging the furniture of my inner landscape.
Here is what I wrote:
After paying the 20 soles to enter the Church of Santo Domingo, I encountered a layered site where the once-golden Sun Temple of Inti is now a fragmented memory. Along the linear axis of the building—on the northeast side— you’ll find stone temples of the Rainbow, Lightning and Thunder, the Equinox, Venus, and the Moon. The original thatched roofs removed, the temples now sit beneath the vaulting ceiling of the Church.
These temple “rooms” rest atop pea gravel, accompanied by a small, easily overlooked sign offering a QR code for further information. Without knowledge of Incan history, the site might feel confusing—an incoherent amalgamation of traditions. The QR code suggests cultural blending, like a well-mixed Peruvian cocktail promising a refined finish, but I found the carved and polished stones oddly silent, their ingredients a mystery.”
Followed by this paragraph.
“Another placard in the back describes the temple stones as andesite, a dense volcanic rock native to the Andes. Yet it lacks further information that speaks to wholeness — the craftsmanship, the location of the stone quarry, the techniques required to build these magnificent structures, and the master masons themselves. A scholarship map hidden from view.”
Coricancha: The Broken Temple That Revealed My Own Architecture
I stepped into the Temple of Lightning.
A simple room.
A single window.
A stone step to lift you into alignment.
But the moment I stood there, something in me recognized itself.
The Rainbow.
The Lightning.
The Stars.
The Moon.
The Sun.
The Equinox.
The sequence.
The architecture.
The cosmology.
It was the same pattern I had been teaching for years — in my courses, in my travels, in the initiatory work that poured out of me long before I understood why.
I hadn’t built my school from imagination.
I had remembered it.
The Temples and the Frequencies I Had Been Teaching All Along
Each temple carried a frequency I had already been teaching:
Rainbow — integration, harmony, bridging worlds with electromagnetic waves
Lightning — plasma activation, illumination, sudden insight
Stars & Venus — beauty, rhythm, cosmic orientation and the passage of celestial time
Moon — reflection, embodiment, deep ancestral memory
Sun — sovereignty, radiance, illumination
Equinox — balance, timing, thresholds
Each course was a temple.
Each temple was a frequency.
Each frequency was a doorway into the unified field.
I hadn’t pieced it together until I stood inside Coricancha. The school I had been building wasn’t imagined — it was remembered.
The Global Walkabout: One Field, Many Temples
Long before Peru, I had been walking through temples across the world — Peru, Egypt, Scotland, Malta, Ireland, France, Greece — each one a chapter in a story I didn’t yet know I was telling.
At the time, it felt like following an inner pull. Sometimes evoking curiosity and other times, an uneasiness that pointed to a yet unknown threshold moment. A moment that would lead to a deeper awareness awakening within.
And now I see it clearly:
I wasn’t moving from temple to temple. I was moving through one continuous field.
Different stones.
Different landscapes.
Different myths.
Same intelligence.
Every site carried a frequency I recognized before I understood why.
Each alignment felt familiar before I could name it.
Each threshold felt like a return.
I had never left the temple because the temple was never a place. It was a field — and I had been walking inside it across continents.
The School of Nature
As the pieces fell into place, I began to see what I had been building all along:
A school of nature.
A school shaped by stone and sky.
By myth and memory.
By the way the Earth teaches when you’re willing to listen.
Every site was a classroom.
Every course was a chamber.
Every initiation was a doorway.
The curriculum wasn’t invented — it was remembered.
And once I saw that, I committed to a path of refinement.
Of listening, aligning the inner and outer temples and to saying yes — fully, consciously, sovereignly.
Memory, and the Living Architecture That Calls Us Forward
There is a quality to Türkiye that defies linear time — a resonance that hums beneath the surface of stone and soil. It is not just ancient. It is primordial. A place where memory is not archived but activated. Where the Earth speaks in mythic architecture, and the stars are carved into stone.
In the stone hills of southeastern Turkey — at Göbekli Tepe, Karahan Tepe, and the nearby dig sites archaeologists believe are even older — I feel it again. The call of the living architecture. These are not ruins. They are remembrance fields. Places where cosmology was encoded in form. Where sequence mattered. Where alignment was everything.
At Karahan Tepe, the architecture is carved directly into the bedrock — subterranean chambers, phallic pillars rising from the earth, solstice alignments older than any known temple. At Göbekli Tepe, the T-pillars stand in circles, etched with animals that scholars now believe represent star constellations — a celestial map in stone. Both sites were intentionally buried after use — not forgotten, but protected. Preserved. Held in the womb of the Earth until we were ready to remember.
We are exploring a land where civilizations layered themselves like sediment — Hittite, Greek, Roman, Byzantine, Ottoman — each leaving behind temples, star maps, goddess lineages, and cosmologies carved into stone.
A land where marble remembers. A land where the Earth speaks in mythic architecture.
Where the Earth Remembers in Stone
And when the field began moving toward Türkiye, I felt the same recognition I felt in Coricancha:
This isn’t new.
This is next.
Not a departure.
A continuation.
The same unified field that shaped the temples of Peru, Egypt, Scotland, Malta, France, Ireland, and Greece is alive in Türkiye — in its ancient sanctuaries, its star aligned ruins, its goddess mountains, its forgotten sciences, its mythic landscapes.
I’m not going because I need to “find” something. I’m going because something is ready to be revealed.
Something that belongs to the same architecture I recognized in Coricancha. Something that belongs to the same school of nature I’ve been rebuilding from memory. Something that belongs to the next layer of the unified field.
This is why I said yes.
No matter what.
A sovereign yes.
And now, I’m inviting others to walk that field with me — not as tourists, but as participants in a remembering that is older than marble, older than myth, older than any temple.
Because the temple isn’t behind us.
It isn’t ahead of us.
It isn’t something we enter or leave.
The temple is the field.
The field is alive.
And we are already inside it.
Starseed Türkiye Adventure
Türkiye is calling in that unmistakable way the field does — through memory, timing, and the quiet recognition that something ancient is ready to surface. This journey isn’t tourism; it’s a walk into mythic architecture, goddess mountains, star‑aligned sanctuaries, and the living field that threads them together. The Starseed Türkiye Adventure is an invitation to remember what you already carry, to stand where civilizations layered themselves like sediment, and to feel the next layer of your own architecture rise to meet you.
Inside the Living Architecture of Coricancha
A glimpse inside the andesite temples of Coricancha — the stone intelligence that shaped the realization described above.
Cusco sits within the Seqe system, a place where lines converge and the Living Architecture reveals its pattern.
The Living Architecture Beneath the Architecture
These images reveal the subtle geometries and alignments beneath Coricancha’s surface — the Living Architecture that informs the entire journey.
Learn More About My Work
Step further into the field with the writings and teachings that shaped this journey. If the Türkiye Adventure resonates, these offerings will deepen your understanding of the architecture within and the initiatory pathways that move through my work.
Four Aliens and a Funeral: A Memoir of Perception
A memoir of awakening, contact, and the subtle intelligence that reshapes a life from the inside out. Available on Amazon.
Solar Consciousness
Solar Consciousness is an exploration of the movement from fossil consciousness into a more radiant, aligned solar state. Through visual storytelling and imagery of ancient stone seats in Ireland, France, and Mount Shasta, the course reveals these carved seats as metaphors for your own internal seat of power. You’ll explore timelessness, memory, and the subtle ways consciousness expresses through personal, planetary, and universal fields. This course invites you to consider how presence, perception, and your bioenergetic field interface with the greater field of awareness — illuminating your solar nature from within.
The Goddess & Egyptian Temples
This course explores the living intelligence of the goddess current as it moves through Egyptian temples, Greek‑Egyptian lineages, and the evolving iconography of Isis. Through visual storytelling and multidimensional awareness, you’ll learn to read temples as energetic structures — spaces designed to shape perception, embodiment, and coherence. Available for replay.
This course asks the viewer:
Are we ready to see beyond form to understand energy in motion — as a wave, as water, as a living energy?
