Guides / Ancestors / Helpers

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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 5th

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His shrivelling hands reached up to the skies. The nine falling stars met the node of his staff. A flash of lightning, a scream of connection, the wind ceased blowing and the earth whispered for a little while.

The wizard stepped down from his stone. Tired. Weary. He should be happy. Should be fulfilled. He was too tired to feel anything. He needed to lie down.

Crawling,  his hands searched for  the softest stones on the pebble beach. The waves were gently caressing the rocks. No tide tonight, just the movement of a silently dancing starfish and dolphins.

His hands found a spot of stones carefully polished by eons of ice and water. Here he would rest. Here he would regain himself.

He laid down, placing the staff beside him, covering it with the grey cloth and moss he carried in his pouch. He leaned in to the stone covered earth. Closed his eyes. Sssshhhhhhh…..

New stories would be written. Covering up what was between the old stories and the now. But who would write them? He was worried. Sssshhhhh….

The mist of sleep fell over him. Lulling him in to the space in between the veils. No moon tonight. What was to come?

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 5th 2019

 

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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 4th

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“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

The sound echoed over the white covered earth. Up above the mountain, in the starlit sky, a white dragon was painting the rune Thurisaz with her breath.

“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

Paws breaking through the crusty surface. Yellow eyes. Fur dark as the night sky.

Craft moved through the night like he always did. Owning it. Nobody noticing him. Ever. Considering his gigantic stature and enormous energy field it was surprising. But not to him. The humans living in this valley, on these mountains, closed down when they sensed a force so strong, so transformative that anything was possible. Limitlessness was not something they felt comfortable with, not something they’d been raised to understand.

“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

The aurora borealis in the sky, the elements, the grass, the woods, the stream, the lake, the mountains, they all walked with him. In ancient tales bards had sung his praise, many Völvas had told his story.

Craft was everywhere. Always. Just like Star. Just like Meru.

He cut short right in the middle of the large open field, right on top of the snowcovered lake at its centre.

He could sense her approaching. Slowly.

Star.

Somewhere between the clouds in his memory he could feel the two of them calling in Meru too. Without Grey,  Meru, no point. Whether they would find Red or not was up to how the three of them got together.

Meru had a companion though. That was the cloudy feeling. Craft could not really make sense of the energy until he realized it was human. A human in the mind of the wolves ? Like almost fully inhabiting it?  Well, that was about time. Time to let the human heart in.

”This could be a game changer”, Craft said out loud to himself. ”We shall see…”

 

– Cecilia Götherström, 4 December 2019

 

 

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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

 

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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

 

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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

 

 

 

 

 

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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

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Dec 15th, The Promise, Part 15

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He touched down in front of us. The snow made little sweeping crystal clouds as he placed his staff on the glacier floor.

”Holy schmooly Ravensh….t”, Raven was jumping up and down, waving her wings. ” I know Christmas time is family time but I never expected this!”

Wizard stepped up to greet him.
”Brother dear, so merry to see you! No way would I take this journey without you!”

If White Wizards beard was white this guy´s beard was superdupermegaextra white. And looooooong. He looked pretty scruffy at first glance. You could see he travelled far and often, taking care of himself but not his clothes. There was something very, very warm and intense about him. Grandfatherly but larger, stronger. Like he was Grandpa to all of us.

He reached out his hand towards White. She soared over the frozen snow to greet him. He kneeled down to hug her.
”White, my heart, my soul, my dearest one in the whole wide gårds of all, how precious to see you again.”
White curled her head against his chest, dug her nose in under his arm. The giant white wolf becoming absorbed in his being, in his energy.
I thought to myself ” ”My heart, my soul”, that is what I usually call White. How can this possible?”

The two ravens tagging along with the ancient wizard came over to see me.

”It is because he has been calling you”, the first one croaked. ”For years and years.
”It is because we are all connected”, the second one filled in. ”just like the trees told you, like White´s always been saying, like Fox has told, like anyone and everyone else right here right now of this clan knows. He is one of the stringbinders weaving us together. Silver are his strings, gold are hers and White walks between the two.”

The Cold Mountain Trolls and The Higher Silver Alves had shown us the golden braids Mother Earth spun for all her children. The starry sky was covered with the silver weaves of Father Sky they had pointed out. The trees connected, they had told. White walks in beauty, keeping it all concious, they had explained.

So was this Father Sky? Was this… AllFather? Odin?

”Oh dear” the ancient one laughed. ”Time to once and for all cross out these pages in all these books. Yes, Odin is the name I go by. No, AllFather I am not. I am the travelling one, the knowing one, the wizard. Some call me the shaman. The noadi. I am the one speaking the same language as all the worlds in one tongue – sky, earth, fourleggeds, swimmers, winged ones, spirit people, folks in between the energies, the energies themselves. I am the ancient magic Wizard here for All. There is no Pantheon, there is no hierarchy. There is just this. Us. All. Father. Mother. Brother. Sister. Son. Daughter. Friend. I am.”

Cecilia Götherström, 15 December 2018

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Dec 13th/ The Promise, Part 13

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The soft, soft snoring of Fox – inhale, exhale, inspire, expire, wssssss, wsssss – gently woke me up. It wasn´t as much Silent Night, Holy Night as it was Holy Morning. December 13th.

The whole crew was still sleeping.

I lightly curled my fingertips in to Fox´s soft bellyfur, softly brushing her ribcage – her favourite form of bellyrub. Yellow eyes woke up, looked into my soul.
”Let´s go outside”, I whispered. ”Let´s witness the rising of the morning star.”

In one go Fox did a 180 in the air, went from lying on her back to standing on all four paws in a split second, yawned, stretched out. We tiptoed and tippawed towards the opening of this huge ballrom inside the mountain.

The stars were high in the sky, the milkyway at the height of our eyes .

The snow creaked under my feet. Fox`s paws made no sound at all.
”That´s why you people so often stay in 3rd dimension, ” Fox laughed. ”Because you walk so heavy!” She rolled around in the snow, laughing at her own joke till she almost choked.

”Waaaaaah, how I love this bundle of joy, my own little gingerbiscuit, my pepparkaka! ” I yelled out to the universe, laughing along with her.

We rounded the fourth granite giant, heading up the steep part of the glacier. I found myself on hands and feet at times when it got really close to vertical.

Up there the horizon opened up. Covered with distant mountaintops, dark treelines, blistered with millions, billions, trillions of stars glowing like heartdiamonds unobtruded. The morning star, Venus, the brightest, slight pinkish-yellow light waking up as the morning started breaking through.

”I have something for you, ” Fox said. She started digging in the snow, jumping up and down at times to speed the burrowing up. Then she stopped. ”Look!”
I peeked down in to the hole. A black velvet pouch. I laid down on my belly to reach down for it.

”Let me!” Fox nudged me with her nose. She climbed down in what actually looked like it could be her winter den, came back up with the pouch in her jaws, put it down in front of me.

As the sun started rising in the sky I opened the velvety package. My eyes froze as I saw the most exquisite, multifacetted, alivelooking, full of attitude and gentleness rainbow quartz ever.
”It is called ”Fire and Ice”. It holds your promise”, Fox gleamed.

Sankta Lucia, ljusklara hägring.

My heart woke up.

– Cecilia Götherström, 13 December, Lucia, 2018

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Dec 10th / The Promise, Part 10

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”Melvinia. Melviniaaaa. Wake uuuuup”, a soft voice was whispering me out of sleep. I openend one eye. Fox was there, next to Jake the yellow necked mouse.

”The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don´t go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don´t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don´t go back to sleep.”
 

”Reciting Rumi as a wakeup call are we?”

They both smiled and nodded vigourously at me as Raven flew in through the opening.

”Awake are we? Pardon the pun!” he croaklaughed so hard he had to make a frontflip not to fall flat on the ground.

I sat up. The smell of coffee and scones cooked over open fire flowed through the door of the kåta, blendend with the scent of a very cold, crisp morning. Yes!!!

The morning sun was working it´s rays across the crusty snow, shining through in on floor clad in pine twigs.

I got out of the sleeping bag, pulled the anorak over my head, got my arctic pants on, laced up my näbbstövlar, popped my head out and took in the fresh air with the longest inhale ever.

Wizard and Grey were immersed a deep conversation regarding the aligment of the stars in December of 1088 as the coffee was boling over on the fire .

”GoodmornigStar Gentlemen”. I could not help myself.

”Top of the morning to you”, Wizard replied faster than a smash from the net during Wimbledon finals. Grey stretched out and yawned.

As I sat there with White Wizard and Grey Wolf, Raven, Fox and Jake, watching the morning star rising as one with the slow moving sun just above the treeline I felt what I can only describe as pure, true joy from inside for the first time in a long, long time.

”You might think that circumstances and the place where you are right now is what makes you feel like this dear child.” Whites voice came not through my mind this time but from behind me. Tears of joy froze instantly on my cheeks as I met her gaze from the pile of snow she´d built . ”It is not. You made a choice. You let go of what was not yours to hold. Of what had been piled on you. Of the conditioning of ”this and that is your duty”. Through that you made a choice to walk through the round open door every time you feel yourself falling. You made an active choice to be happy my child. You did.”

 

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 10th 2018

 

 

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Dec 8th / The Promise, part 8

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All of a sudden I felt intensly tired. All the travelling, the journey, the light – or the lack of it – , the long nights. Large spots in my memory had been whiped clean.

”There is really nothing to remember”, I could hear White say through my mind from afar. ”All that exists is here and now. The past is a reflection. The future is a reflection. When you stop, sit down and see then all comes together in this one moment. Magic. Understanding. Alchemy. Morphing. Forgiveness. Release. Letting go. Welcoming in.”

What would I do, where would I be without this wise Wolf Queen of mine?

”Glooooooooooria, in excelcis deeeo”, a childhood memory sang its thread through my mind. A soft breeze touched my cheek. Flying sparkles of gold movning swiftly through the cold evening air. Fairies!

The fae takes many shapes and forms. I knew that from my great grandma´s renderings.

These were gorgeous, glitterly, sweepingly strong as they danced around our shoulders, swirling a path for us out on to the ice.

Dragon was unwinding on the other side of the lake after her ordeal of making sure we got all the signs the Great Mother had wanted us to see. DragonWhite had cleared what she herself called Mirror Patches on the ice. I followed the fairies to one of them. Sat down. Kneeled over the open space while wiping the last dust of snow from the clear, dark surface. Something rolled across I could see in the corner of my eye. Little green stones. Malachites! A memory of a very dear soul sister from the far north. It made me smile inwards. I knew I was at the right spot.

Fox motioned over from the snowcave she´d built herself, sat down next to me, locked my eyes with hers. ”I am here with you all the way Sister”.

Time to let the soul peek in to the depths of the ice on High Lake.

At first it was just greyish. Like heavy rainclouds slowly growing lighter. The deeper my gaze sank the more the clouds opened up. Travelling through a thin veil I saw the Land of the Dragon taking shape below . Cherry blossom on their last day of bloom, petals falling gently to the ground. People gathering under the trees offering them all their love, admiration and connection. Further up ahead,  the mud road passing through the field of cherry trees were leading up the soft hills trailing towards the mountain range which legend here held was holding up the sky. My village from back then was somewhere among those mountains.

In an instant I knew what was about to happen.

 

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 8th 2018