Kringlans Kalender 2019/ Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 3rd

Meru

It had been lost for a while. Or at least that is what she thought.

Meru had told her that ”nothing is ever lost, nothing is ever left on the backburner. What is most important always shines through. It is just not always that the inner ear tunes in to the heart. Bravery is listening”, he’d said while continuing. ”Bravery is not blaming the moment but choosing the moment. Stepping in to the moment fully, interacting with all which is presenting itself there and then, that is bravery.”

All we are taught as kids is to chicken out. To forget the moment, to reminisce in the past, to make plans for the future in our bullet point journals so that we can then sit back and do ”nothing” while we are actually wasting precious diamonds of moments away, just checking stuff off a list.

”Do you remember that boardgame you played as a child? The one about ”The Star of Africa”, the gigantic diamond? Where you were taught that if you found rubies or sapphires or emeralds they were all just nothing compared to The Star of Africa?”

”How you kids loved playing that game. Throwing the dice, skipping stones and moments, being in awe of the colours a few milliseconds before you realized it was not The Star. You learned greed, discontent, not-good-enough-ness bit by bit. Moment after moment lost. Bravery would have been to stay with the emerald. To sit still. To thank it, saying you are not moving on yet, you are just lingering right here enjoying your new friend Emerald and intend to hang with him until it is time for you both to move on. Not when the throw of a dice says it’s time to move on. The universe throws its own dice and move you accordingly, in the dance where you can intend to go places when your heart sings about them.”

”Bravery, my dear. That is who you are from this day forward.”

He nudged her with his nose, poked her in the face, then in the belly till she started laughing, looked at her and then at the river quickly making its way down between the mountain tops.

”Time for breakfast” he yelled out, jumping in to the river to get his morning serving of salmon and fresh water. She rolled out the sac with her oat and corn flour bread mix, added a handful of the clear meltwater, flattened it with the ”baking stone” she’d gotten from those very cheeky dwarves some time ago. There were still a few glistening flakes of glow from last nights fire gently puffing as the wind was doing its dance. She helped along with her breath, rolled the flatbread around the birch tree stick and cooked her breakfast as Meru was wolfing his down.

Life like this. All you need. Nothing more. Nothing less. Human. Wolf. Nature. Mother Earth. Father Sky. Breath. This.

”See”, he whistled. ”Here and now! Bravery! Realizing you never ever need more than what is here and now, that is something something!”

”The thing is”, she told herself more than anyone else, ”I will have to go back some day. Back to what we call ”the world”. I cannot make it out here in winter.”

”How do you know that?” Meru asked. ”You have no clue as to what is around the corner, of what the next thought will be, so how can you know even a whim of what is to come this winter as your feet are bathing in the waters of now? Why anticipate what you don’t know? Be practical. Look at what you know and what makes sense in that. Winter is usually cold. So, you need good, warm clothes, shelter and food. You live with a wolf, so you won’t go hungry. Easy!”

”You make me laugh Meru. Always.”

”Little busy one. You have been so active filling up with worries and to-do’s and have to’s and building plans and and and that there has been no space for the What Is.

Filling the What Is space keeps you away from succeeding at what you are here to do, from completing your task, from receiving the key to the next moment from this moment. Laugh. Be Open To Everything. Let the runes speak. Let the river answer.”

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 3rd 2019

 

Kringlans Kalender 2019/ Meru’s wisdom, Dec 2nd

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She had cast the runes. Again. As if for the first time. Her head was spinning, her guts were in knots, her shoulders hunched, her eyes squirting through the shadows. What were those signs? What were they trying to tell her?

She sighed. Gathered the runes, Put them  back in the Pouch of Magic, which she had called it as a child. Why could she not go back to her childlike state? To re-enter that curiousity and openness,  free from wanting anything, safe.

”Wisdom lies in embracing the unknown. It is what you already know but don’t know that you know. When you leap in to the unknown every day anew will you start scratching the dirt off the gold, the mud off the jewel,” rough and clear his voice reached out of the woods.

She stopped. Decided to sit down and listen this time. To wait.

”It is time to go sit with Grandfather, at his side by the great fire. You’ve spun. You’ve woven. Now t is time to take the reins and do it all with intent. With a fully open heart. Leaning on Grandfather with one ear, listening with the other ear. Facing the fire, right down there at the water, under the starlit sky. Returning there over and over again as seasons pass. Coming back to Source.”

”It is not your time to play it small”, he continued. ” It is not your time to hide behind routines. It is your time to let go of all the things which are not meaningful, to open up to your own meaningfullness. By the way, this is not a suggestion. It’s an order.”

She had no clue whether it was the wind that spoke, or the trees, or the mountain, or none of those.

Dagaz. The rune of transformation. Of moving from night to day. That’s where she was right now.

Tiwaz. The rune of strong forward focused energy, symbolizing the sword, the divine masculine. The rune pointing towards bravery, willingness to sacrifice, to boldness and balance. At the place of her current future and what is to come.

The runes confirmed what she had just been told.

He watched her through the pines. Little girl, sitting there on the rock at the riverbank. Little grey pouch of runes in one hand, palm of the other hand open, large sky coloured eyes gazing from the palm of her hand to the woods, to the skies, back to the palm. As she let the runes in her hand slide back in to the pouch, shaking it before she tied it closed, placing it in her backpack, he prepared to move towards her. Not too fast, not too slow. They had not seen each other for nine years and he did not want to startle her.

She reached her hands to the sky totally unaware of his presence. She yawned, jumped on to the riverbank, moving the air downwards with her palms, touching the rocks.

”Father Sky to Mother Earth”, she sang.

”Mother Earth to Father Sky” , as she moved the air to the sides and upwards again with her palms.

Three times.

Meru could do nothing but yawn himself, and as he gently tread out of the shadow of the pinetrees in all his wolfness he started howling along with her singing.

She stopped. Her palms were already placed facing each other in front of her heart. Head bowed. She gently rolled her head up. Eyes filled to the brim with tears. Tears welling in to the river she was standing in.

”Meru, Meru, my dearest Meru! You are here! You are back! You are alive!”

”Yes my dear. Nine years is a long time in the life of a wolf but I ain’t no regular wolf. Just like you ain’t no regular person”.

– Cecilia Götherström, 2 December 2019

 

Kringlans Kalender 2019/ Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 1st

A new star is born

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The wintercoat thickened. Like a new layer of atmosphere along this cold ball of lightning. Out of nothingness came life, came light, came a mist as if breathed through the voice of the void. Bright, strong, finely filigraphicially painted across a velvety canvas of the universe.

It´s song sung itself into existence, in to living. What had begun like a seed, like a wish, like an idea, a longing, a spiralling small funkle of snakey energy had started curling in upon and around itself. Spiralling while fuming. Moving faster and faster in an intriquate yet messy pattern, spinning its own being in to life. Not a sparkle and bang like fireworks on new years day. More like a sneaky, slow, quiet, first breath of a sly dragon escaping it´s passage , becoming its own life form ,its own master, its own creation.

It was felt. So strong was the notion of a new star just born that it was impossible to turn any heads away from what was not awaited any more but birthed in to being right now.

Strong. White. Whiskery. Slow. Sly. Clever. Knowing.

Star.

 

– Cecilia Götherström

 

 

 

 

 

MidWinter

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Candlelight, chestnuts and pinecones

Christmastree,
it is just you and me

Comfort, life, breath
Pineneedles, light, sacredness

I stop,
I forget
in a way which makes me re-member

you came from a slope,
which was once me,
specks of atoms, of dust
you grew out of snow
I was

yesterday,
today,
tomorrow,
now

It all just is.
We all just are.

Christmastree,
you and me
are just dreams of traditions,
of what is and what is to come
Nothing more.
Nothing less.

You in my livingroom,
I in your forest.

It all blends,
in this moment
tomorrow
now
then
there
when
who cares?

Let us sing,
let us be the charol.

Have you not always dreamed,
like me,
to be carried out on a chord,
to slide down a tune
echoing in to the wilderness
with nothing to stop you
sounding

Who cares?
What cares?

Let us sing with the stars,
soak the light in to our hearts
Like the candles on your branches,
let us shine through the night

Midvinterblot,
I hail thee

My roots are deeper than the mountain
My home is stronger than my heart
My soul echoes through eons

Take my hand,
carry me away

While remaining here,
watching,
re-membering
taking in your light
Oh Christmastree, oh Christmastree
of Odins heart so strong

Hel.
Whole.
Hel.
Helig.
Holy

Oh , holy night.

Åh, helga natt.

Home.

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 10th 2018

Dec 21st, The Promise, Part 21

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“Tipp tapp, tipp tapp, tippetippetipptap, tipp, tipp, tapp.”

Fox came tiptoeing across the gold and silver studded frozen crust, there in the opening where the mountain was sloping downwards. Or climbing upwards – depending on how you see it, where you are coming from , where you are heading.
She burrowed her gentle white-orange head into my flank.

“Love, love, love. I am always where you are. No need to search for me, just listen with tender ears and you will hear me walking in your heart of hearts.”

“Aaaave Mariiia…”

Crisp hymn, being spun out of the silvery fullmoon-sky, spreading like warmhearted mist across the heavens, in between the pines, filling the space around us.

All were gathered. Folks & peoples, tribes & clans, beings & spirits, four-leggeds, winged ones, two leggeds and down at the lake swimming ones. From all dimensions, all times, all stories, all songs, all traditions. As if we were surfing on a wave of blessings, yet we all were still.

The full moon moved closer. How was that possible?

Drumming.

The nine women walked out in the centre of the crowd, drumming, their moonstone and granite adorned belts making connection with the light of the moon, with the soul of the granite cliffs.

The song pf the trees spreading upwards, outwards as the whole forest keyed in.

Home. Home. Home.

Us. Right here. Right now.

The heart-diamond seemed to explode inside my chest. I tossed my head back, let the first unruly howl out from so many more insides than just the one in this body, from so many centuries, eons, lifetimes.

As we all harmonized I could tell this was not just our song. This was the song. The birth. The letting go. The honouring. The becoming through being.

I looked around me.

White, beautiful, beautiful White. Ever wise, ever loving, ever there, ever stubborn, ever true to herself.

Fox. My HeartFox. Gentle, sturdy, determined. Loyal to love, joy and what she cherishes above nothing else.

Raven, dear Raven. No one makes coffee like Raven. No one calls in Odin and White Wizard like Raven. No one has a sense humour like Raven.

Jake. Always there. Never forgotten, never forgetting. Not needing a task or a template. Happy with being the company, the glue.

Wizard. White Wizard. My dear companion, protection, and witty elder.

Melvinia. Me. I am there. She with the ornamented shield. She who walks with wolves at night. With my clan.

The moon greets us all. We greet her. The silver and gold mist parts by her glow. There, in the mirror of dear Moon, the reflection of Us. All.

The reflection of New Earth.

Thank you.

– Cecilia Götherström, dec 21st 2018

 

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Dec 20th, The Promise, Part 20

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“Melvinia, come walk with me.” White called me from a distance.

I’d been following a trail of nothingness. Loving the quiet, the soft stacking of the falling snow. Listening to the wind caressing the pines. Inhaling cool, crisp winter air. Following the scent of promise. In the outskirts of the moving pack, somehow intimidated by the inner wolfness I was feeling. The sense of freedom, belonging, power, knowing, of this being my home was so strong I just did not know what to do with it.

“That’s it”, White filled in as she of course was in my mind just like I was in the mind of the whole pack. “You don’t have to do anything with it. You already are it. So, that is what you do. You just are it. Power, freedom, knowing. Always held, always connected, by us, with us, by and with the everything-ness that sometimes feels like nothingness. Space. Space. Space. Freedom to move in that space. To be in that space.”

She stopped.

“Can you see behind us? The gentle tracks we’d all left being snowed away as we take it all in. Look in front of you. No tracks. We leave traces in the past. Some might follow them. We cannot count for their intention, be they in awe or hunters. We can be all that we are in the here and now. In this space. As we are moving through this vastness of woodlands, mountains, waterways, we are freedom. This vastness is in your heart-diamond. You need to care for both.”

She looked me deep in the eyes and continued as the falling snow was getting denser.

“You made a promise once, down at the lake. To heed the call of the wild. To never let this mountainous vastness disappear. Because you are it. We are it. None of us are separate from this – you least of all dear child. By caring for, listening to, howling with the diamond in your heart you are fulfilling that promise. There is no turning back now. You know that. I know that. We are all carrying our heart-diamonds, our promises, through the gateway tomorrow at the full moon. Our song will transform any leftover fragments of fears not removed by Bear Medicine. Our anthem will convert what is left in to gold and amber. To the light which will shine from the New Sun revolving with the New Earth.”

My love. My heart. My soul. My White.

Her words spoke space in my chest, in my throat. Space filling with the song of the Earth coming out from underneath my paws, vibrating through all of us, filling us with the tunes of the Everythingness.

Where was Fox?

– Cecilia Götherström, dec 20th 2018

Dec 19th , The Promise, Part 19

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We had travelled through the early morning, followed by the fullnext day after the arrival of all the spirit animals through Fire & Ice. We were well rested after an evening and half a night of quiet comfort tucked in underneath the northern lights. Now the Morning Star was taking over the shift from the North Star. All was sparkly around us – the snow, the sky, the twilight, the breath we all shared. Even the sound of the silence around us seemed to sparkle.

There was a glimmering sparkle around her eyes, around her nose, her whole fur and the crown of all sparkle – that soul spark in her eyes.

Our whole Tribe From All Directions had split up before we took rest.

The Crowned Spirit Bears travelled with the Silver Alves, the Cold Trolls would rather trek with the Samoyed Knights, the Nisse felt more at home navigating with the horses.

We – White Wizard, Jake and myself – travelled alongside the wolves and the Husky Queens. With Raven and Owl taking the lead of course.

As we sat there, White turned towards me, nudging me.

“Remember this is a soul quest. The portal is for your soul, to be opened by your diamond in the heart. We all have our own portals to enter for our own souls along this journey. As one star-diamond in the heart ignites, it lights a flame in the other heart-diamonds of our humongous tribe. Keep writing outside the lines, feel all you are feeling and just welcome the portal. The journey is happening anyway. Your task is to make sure you are travelling with your pack, leaving the outward directions for what they are. Have Trust. Faith.”

“White”, I replied. “White, that is what you are for me. Trust. Faith. Purpose. Strength. Wisdom. And I want to, I so badly want to, let my heart follow my nose like you. I so desire to feel the wisdom of the Ages, of the Earth, weaving through my system as I walk this journey with paws connecting with All That Is. The way you do.”

“Melvinia, dear”, White drowned me in her presence. “Walk over there. Clear the snow off the surface, look yourself in the mirror of the lake, in the light of the moon.”

I did as she told.

The face looking back at me… Grey fur, yellow eyes, fluffy wintery coat, nose sprinkled with snowsparkle. Grey Wolf. How could this be?

“It is your soul looking back at you”, she motioned. “Look through these eyes the coming days and see what happens. And remember you can only recognize in others what already lives in you.”

The coming days? How close, or how far away, is the portal?

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 19th 2018
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Dec 18th / The Promise / Day 18

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“The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you”.

The Rumi poem whispered through my mind as I walked out of the cabin to put the first bowl of breakfast porridge at the stable for the Nisse.

“Don’t go back to sleep”. White quoted further, smiling the way only wolves can.

“You must ask for what you really want”. Raven picked up on the next phrase.

“How do you know what you really want?” I asked them both while watching the three cubs snoring away in a pile of softness against Fox’s belly just inside the doorsill of the wide open cabin door.

“The diamond knows”, White almost sang with her fantastic morning-howl-voice. “That diamond in your heart knows. It takes some practice to tune in and listen to it. Then it takes even more practice to howl along with it. This is why all ancient peoples sing the mountains, the forests, the waters, the sky, the souls of all beings, the beingness itself. That is how you weave in to the essence.”

“For now though”, Raven interrupted, “I think it might be a good idea to just ask to find out what it is you really want.”

So clever that Raven!

“Just remember “don’t go back to sleep””, White twinkled.

Lethargic.

A feeling of heaviness had spread in my limbs. It was like the heavy dimension did its best to hold on to you just before you were about to put your foot on the other side of the threshold.

Then I heard something from the inside the cottage. It sounded like electrical wires getting short-circtuited. Which was impossible as there was no electricity here. We had cooked breakfast on the woodburning stove and candles gave us light.

When I entered the kitchen-bedroom-all-in-one-space I saw more than I heard the activity coming from the velvet pouch holding Fire & Ice, set in the centre of the small table. Sparks were flying through the pouch. The table was shaking.

I put my hands on the table. It stopped moving. I removed the velvet pouch. The crystal was glowing from within, beaming with a silver and gold light so strong it outshone the moon still set high in the morning sky outside. Little rays of crystaldust moving outwards from its core, each telling a different story. I could see magic spirit bears with beaded crowns, white wolves, the Silver Alves, the Cold Trolls, a whole tribe of the Nisse, horses, foxes, all walking across the beams out the door and materializing in their full, natural size out there among the trees.

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 18th 2018

Dec 17th / The Promise, Part 17

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Silence. This silence. Nothing. There is basically nothing to hear. Until you listen.

Wings of birds moving from twig to twig. The gripping of their claws as they change branches for the sake of…. I don’t know.

“Wouuufff!” A tiny little bark coming from in between the pinetrees. Two little white cubs and one reddish are rolling out from underneath the brush, peeking towards me, their eyes gleaming. The fluffiest one seems to be the leader. She comes closer, puts her paw on my ankle where I sit, cross legged in the snow surrounded by pinecones and moonstones.

“That’s the problem dear human spirit,” she says. “The “for the sake of”. With that still in your system your kind will always be blocked, if even just a little for some of you. How can you ignite your soul-spark for the New Earth if there needs to be a reason for everything? Reason lives in the head. The New Earth lives in the heart.”

The other two pups came closer.

“And the easiest way to get there is through…. Plaaaaay!” they howled in unison as they grabbed one of my lovikavantar, dashing off in between the trees.

They had me run after them, roll down snowy hills together, dig down under the pinetrees, throw snowballs and pinecones for them to catch, run around the skirts of the trees, roaring with laughter as we all were trying to catch our breath. After some time we all crashed in a pile in a glade between the trees overlooking the banks of the watercourse further down.

There we sat again. Content. Just listening to the falling of the snow. Large, soft snowflakes floating to the ground. Fluffiness spreading all around us.

“Look. Look into the snow. Into the crystals”, the little reddish cub whispes , soaking me in her yellow eyes.

The more I focus on just watching the snowflakes effortlessly falling through the air, the clearer everything feels. Between the beautiful, ornate parts of the crystals there is space. Space filled with music of the softest, gentlest harp. I can see the snow fairies weaving the flakes through filling the space with their enchanted music. Deep within every part, every little mosaic piece which fabricates the snowflake, a little glittery heart beating. Every time the heart beats silvery dust spreads with a puff.

“Everything breathes. Everything has a heart. Everything emanates from love. Seeing it opens you to feeling it. And it works the other way around too. When you feel it, you need to open your eyes wide to see what it is you really feel. Go with the expansion. Let go of all you know. Take in what is flowing your way.” Fox sighs as she places herself next to us in the snow.

The sound of White´s paws heading our way.

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 17th 2018

Dec 16th, The Promise, Part 16

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Whirling, twirling, swirling we were. Higher than the Milky Way, inside the Milky Way, below, beyond, back in again, above. Unceasinlgy. Fairy gold, silver dust, strong emerald green dragonbreath, pink shine, pitch black forces. Crowns, flowers and crystals spinning around, through our energyfield. It was impossible to distinguish which was you and whichever was everything else. How long we journeyed like that, I don’t know.

It was time to put the pen down and write a new book, that’s all both White and Ancient Wizard had said once the Hologram Bears had instructed us in how to step – not jump – in to Ursa Major , guided by Owl and the three ravens.

Fire & Ice was glowing through the velvet pouch I still kept her in. The swiveling dance of cosmos and star-dust seemed to settle. The bears set us down on a moss covered hill, adorned with one huge tree. As we walked towards the tree we saw that it was actually three trees intertwined, grown in to one large, wide, sturdy mass of life, wisdom and power.

The North Star glowed high up in the dark sky, revealing to us that Morning Star was hours from arriving.

The bears bid their farewell, hologrammed themselves back in to the blue of the night.

I felt bewildered. Old. Ancient. And at the same time I felt like a young child, a cub.

The colour of her eyes had changed. White now had deep, wide dark brown eyes. Wells of wisdom with a glowing spark of cheeky wolfpup shining through.

“This is it my dear,” she spoke. “Look behind you.”

White Wizard and Ancient Wizard stood there, chatting and laughing, the sparks of magic flying off them as they gestured with their hands and the wind swirled their hair.

“Look in front of you”.

The North Star. Glowing stronger then I’d ever seen her.

“Diamond in the sky. Diamond in the heart. Fire & Ice in the pocket, not a bad beginning.” Grey the gangly smiled the warmest, widest wolf beam I’ve ever seen. And the past weeks I’d seen many of his delighted grins.

He sat down, motioned me to join. I sat down. There. With the wizards, the wolves, Fox, Owl, the ravens, the trees and the stars.

“What is “it” White?” I asked her.

“The ancient wisdom”, she replied.“ The ancient wisdom, dear child of mine. It is travelling in our DNA now. From the Upper Glaciers frozen waters, through the celestial worlds of the EarthKeeping Bears, to us. We now are to take it through the portal, in to the New Earth. The thing is though that New Earth is not a place, nor a destination. It is who we are. It is who we are becoming. It is already there. The only step left is how to ignite it”

“Can’t we just rest first?” I heard myself ask her. “I mean, we just journeyed through the whole freaking galaxy, to the beginning of times, through the weaves and back including just landing here.”

“Coffee anyone?” Raven croaked.

Did I already mention how much I love Raven?

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 16th 2018