you freeze, you thaw, you form, you change, you melt, you raise, you fly, you accumulate, you transform, you re-shape, you fall again, you fly, the wind cathes you, sideways, back up, crashing down, swooshed in to a nothingness where all is dark and creation rests, germinates
Through the soils of Earth’s water you wake up again
with the rain- worms and clover
You spend what feels like a lifetime as dreary rain
There she is again, Mother Winter, eternal crystal queen
She picks you up, she condenses you, you crystalize, become crystalline, inviting new light, new life, freeze to settle, release to dance
in to the form, the shape of life you need to take right now,
Saga sits down, places her pen next to her well worn notebook, looks out the window. The breeze is picking up, a gentle snowfall is on its way. You can tell by the slight greying of the sky, by the way the birds are dancing through the air towards the bird feeder, even by the sound of the wind through the kitchen fan.
Why had she not thought about that before? “I am an Architect of Magic”.
“Because through thinking you would never have arrived there. In that space of insight of who you are, of what you are here to share with the world my dear.”
The large, white wolf settles down next to her. The way they share space has always been like something out of this world. From day one.
“ I am an Architect of Magic”, Saga says it out loud again.
“Do you remember that stanza which came to you last year? The one which also begins with “I am”?”
Who is that outside the door? Who is speaking? Saga gets up, walks towards the front door, sensing there is more to who is there than she can imagine. Before her hand touches the door handle she remembers. The strophe rushes in through consciousness like a leaf in the gust.
“I am a Force of Nature. I am Power and Stillness in One!” she yells out as she opens the door.
Alba and Rosie! The two girls laugh, hug and cry at the same time. Rosie runs indoors, howls and performs the regular greeting dances, of course including the “hello I love you awesome to see you let me bite your fur and tug at your neck and throw you to the ground as you throw me to the ground good to see you or did I say that already ” wrestling game with AshWhite.
A few moments later the wolves and humans are gathered in a huge pile on the floor in front of the fireplace, where the open fire for this Midwinter Equinox has been crackling since the early MorningStar hours already. The wind picks up. Large, thick, soft snowflakes are being spun and swirled around in a dance even more intricate than the one the golden sky dragons performed a few days ago. Moonstones and pinecones are laid down on the altar. The four souls are singing together.
I am an Architect of Magic
Fire and Ice I am
Born of Earth and Space
Wild Moon Child I am
I am a Force of Nature
I am Power and Stillness in One
I am an Architect of Magic
Sacred Fierceness the staff
Pinecones and Moonstones the source
of
Space and Earth
of
Earth and Space
of
The Promise of Meru´s Wisdom
I am an Architect of Magic
All that I am is Here
Now
Three words drift through space. Whispered. Mahakash. Mahakash. Mahakash. Seven times.
The Queen of Light has arrived. She is the priestess of deep love and true connection. She explains in all her beingness that the road to deep love and true connection can be both simple and complicated. That it is never one of the two. That it is a flow, a braid of the simplicity mixed with complexities. It is a practice she says.
“Three roads lead to heaven, an endless number of roads lead to hell”, the voice at the top of the mountain holding her presence explains. “Let me just clear the largest misunderstanding first before I go on”.
The voice moves closer. Clears its throat, or at least that’s what it sounds like to human ears. The open fire crackles and climbs higher towards The Milky Way as if it is responding with its burning light to the gently powerful light emanating from the mountain.
“The word “hell”. It is not a place. It is not someplace evil. It is a state of mind. We all live, breathe and exist in a state of mind. The rest is just props, like in a theatre. And so is heaven. A state of mind.”
“Let us get back to the word “hell”. It derives from the same root as the words whole, heal and even holy. Listen to so many of your Nordic languages – “hel”, “hela”, “helig”, “holy”, “whole”, “heel”, “helen”, “heal”, I can go on and on and on. So know that when you are in the state of mind of “hell” you are on the road to all of that. To wholeness. You are healing. Sometimes it seems you humans just have to go through a lot of that to get to the roads to “heaven”. “
“This is where the power of choice comes in again. When you recognize that you are in the state of mind of “hell”, you can choose to take a step on a different road. Just one little step will make a huge difference. Every part of every braid has been created in small steps . Every river has etched itself into the earth in small molecular steps, mixed with floods.”
The fire starts dancing, only to seconds later settle down in a beautiful golden glow.
“The three roads to heaven are Peace, Love and Understanding. From all sides of the multifacetted diamond. From inside and outside. When you find yourself in a precarious place, reach within, start with creating peace from within for yourself, send yourself love. From there search for understanding. When the glimpse of understanding is there Love with a capital L opens up.”
” Of course there is no wrong or right way to approach this. You can start with Love, you can start with Understanding, you can start with Peace, you can choose to pick just one and always stick with that one. They are all One. One cannot exist without the other.”
A soft piano tune starts dancing its way out of the mountain in to the cold winter night.
“”Everyone heals in their own way”, remember?”, the voice whispers in everyones soul simultaneously.
and falls so hard it leaves no mercy of breath at all.
We fall and we climb and we fall and we climb. Feeling numb from pain and shock . Looking up, feeling in awe of the stars above and the strength in our legs.
Dread and heartache, hand in hand with awe and an explosion of love for self.
“Get up before dawn. Let the dawn choose you. Walk. Just walk and see what is. It works. It truly works.”
The whispers are not from outside of you, they come from inside. The one who knows lives there. Always has, always will.
“Move with your Hara. Hara holds the heart. Hara holds expansion. Hara holds holding itself. Try it out. Play with it. You might even walk with Hara at dawn.”
14:14
Author: Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinyazi, inspired after a deep conversation with a very dear friend 15/12 2023
Speak love in to being, the starlings are back. Rime and frozen windows, magic is here to stay.
Wanting to do more than you can might be seen as virtue. It can also kill your spirit. Not seeing what you are doing, while only seeing what you percieve to inherently lack, that is not what this thing you call life is about.
Speak love in to being. With every word you create. Don’t bash. Re-create.
See the wonder in her eyes. Let her love you, by loving her back in all the same ways she loves you. All of you. Also the impatient, wounded parts. She sees them, tilts her head, tries to understand them. It might be out of her world and being, but she does. She does understand them. And she loves you. All of you.
“Really let all the stardust and particles shed through your life. Don’t try to understand what I am saying. Feel it and dance through it all. Rest and move and rest and move again . All is an eternal dance and you choose the tunes. You really do. What you set your reciever to is what you recieve. Just like a radio. Juice FM or Downbeat Dread ? Sparkle and Space or Beat The Shit Out Of My Brain ? I can go on and on saying the same thing in tens of thousands different ways, yet the message will always be the same. Choose. Act. Then choose again.”
She put the feathery inkpen down. Blew out the candle, opened the window to the winternight. Exhaled a dust of white foam in the starry sky.
“Everyone heals in their own way. How you heal is up to you. Up to you to find, to feel, to sense, to belong to. Yes, to belong to. There is nothing to figure out, it is all in the heart, in the Earth, held by the sky and Space. That which you belong to. That which is also your healing.”
She changed her seat. Got up. Twirled the thread between her fingers. Spun it around her hands.
“The gift of healing is the gift of seeing”, she continued. Her eyes were wide and warm. Her breath travelled far in the cold air filling the cottage.
“Magic is a choice. Seeing is choice. Living is a choice. What you choose is what you see. The more often you consciously choose, seeing itself chooses you. Just don’t ponder too much on that last part. Go out and choose!”
She swung her arms open towards the door, motioning me to get ready to leave.
“Remember, there is no horizon. Remember, the horizon is the horizon”
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 