Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 20th

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Dawn Gloria MorningStar stood at the banks where the river met the ocean. Where the sweet water met the salt water. Where everything merged before her very eyes.

The Northern Lights were playing in the skies again this night. They had been truly blessed with many Aurora Borealis dances these past weeks.

Star sat a little higher up the slope, overlooking the human and her hearts guide Meru at the riverbank.

”It feels like everything is a river Meru”, Dawn said. ”Everything just flows and amounts to nothingness, disappearing in the nothingness of the ocean. Like nothing really matters.”

”My dear, wise, melancholic child”, Meru looked right into her eyes. ”The nothingness is the everythingness, the limitlessness. It might feel frightening at times but it’s not disappearing, it’s appearing. First you need to allow yourself to flow with the river, to move closer to the banks when the river appears too wild for you, to move from the quieter side flows in to the midst of the river when you feel stagnation knocking on your hearts door. Travel conciously from mountain to ocean, allow yourself to experience all of it. Make your way through the open plains above the treeline, through the narrow passages between the rocks, past and around roots, pebbles, sand and earth. Merge, merge, merge. Be a drop a water, ascending with the warm air. Journey with the clouds. Drop down on the glacier. Become a beautiful, beautiful frozen crystal. Flow with the river again. All metaphorical, yet literal. Sense what matters to you, choose what matters to you. Know yourSelf.”

Star sighed, got up on her front paws, adjusted her posture. She had heard their whole conversation. She felt so strongly for this human. For her pack. Of which the human was a distinct part by now. Because, yes, they were all her  pack. The Mother. The Crown. The Togetherer.  That was Star. Her role. She was. Meru spoke. Craft embodied. Red was the music between them all. Blue the dance.

The Medicine Wheel was still laid out on the pebble beach. Right in the centre of it Wizard was standing, staff and cloak making him look quite regal. Silver White, the powerful grey stallion, was right there with Wizard. Surrounded by the pinecones and moonstones they both looked like they were exactly where they belonged. Home.

DragonWhite and Elo were accompanying the elves, fairies and Nisse on their way to the village in the valley. It was time for them all to unveil with soft silver-sparkle.

”Why does my heart feel so heavy, Meru?” Dawn asked her heartfriend.

”Because everything has to end for something new to begin. Because for the first time ever you will let go for real. Fully. And your heart knows enduring and holding on better than it knows welcoming. Don’t push the heaviness away. Let it move through your heart, like this water in front of us, washing yourself ready for the welcoming my dear.”

Star moved restlessly.

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 20th 2019

Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 16th

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She was wondering. When was she Red? When was she Way? Why could she not understand the human heart?

She’d spent so much time around the village and the farms in the valley. She’d followed hikers and hunters up and down the mountain. She could feel their loneliness, their longing for something outside of themselves without knowing the button to push for connection lay inside of them. Even the ones that did know got caught up in that outside – ness anyway.

“Way”, Meru said. “The outsideness, that is when you are Red. The inner business, that is when you are Way. But actually you are Way The Red. Just like I am Meru The Grey. Just like Craft  is Craft The Black, Star is Star The White, Charm is Charm The Blue Little Pup –  who will grow up to be Charm The Great Blue Sparkle, the wolf who watches over the oceans. When all aspects come together, that is when we Are.

The whole wolf pack lay curled up just outside the opening of the Silent Rocks.

Craft got up and said “It would be nice to stay here for a few days. Just hang. Share. Walk together. Be together. Just rest in all the different ways one can rest.”

“I am all in for that brother dear”, Star almost sang as she placed herself where she could look up at them all. “I guess the choice is Red’s. She’s the one with all the questions today.”

“We stay”, Red replied. “Just stay. Right here. It can be our base for now, right?”

They all howled, agreeing.

Wizard poked his head out through the opening of The Silent Rocks. “What’s all this I hear? Staying put here? But, but, but what about all the stories to be written, all the magic to be done?”

Meru walked across, nudging Wizard in the face with his snout.

“We will walk, we will sing, we will weave and tell and build and transmute just by being all that which we are. You’re a wizard for crying out loud! You do the magic, we do the rest”, his wolf-laughter taking over.

“Ok, ok, ok Meru, I know you know me better than myself”. Wizard laughed along. “Remaining here it is. Sharing space is the truest cauldron for magic . I am getting really excitedly happy just thinking about it actually.”

“Yohohoooooo! Whaaazzzzuuuuup!?” Blue rolled out of the cave, tumbling down the gentle slope. Dazzled, squinting at everyone with his sparkly eyes. “Did I hear the word magic?”

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 16th 2019

Kringlans Kalender 2019/ Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 15th

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Through the raging storm there was a gentle ringing of bells, as if the stars above the clouds were doing a lightdance. The further up the mountain they got the clearer the sky, the gentler the storm.

It was really true, Dawn noticed. You did feel totally renewed, recalibrated even, after the long hike through the blizzard.

Craft stopped. He had been leading the pack the past hour. Now, as the sun was setting across the other side of the mountains, it was time for a bit of a breather for them all. Time to settle in for the eve, get burrowed in underneath either the low growing mountain birches or in the wedges between the rocks.

Blue the pup, Star and Way started to rearrange the snow at the entrance of the silent rocks as they were called. Meru and Wizard took turns moving all the fallen dry birch branches scattered around to the opening. They would make a great entrance floor as well as firewood for the human.

“Craft, why do I feel so at home around you and at the same time so fantastically in awe?” Dawn sat down next to the large black wolf.

“Dawn, dear”, he cleared his throat. This sort of felt formal and he could not fully understand why. “What you humans over and over again fail to understand is that you can only see in others what you carry in yourself. I sense that you are becoming aware of this more and more though. Like somebody has opened a huge, very heavy, thick door, letting the understanding shine through in to your being. Limitless. Belonging. Part of. Unlimited. I believe that is what you feel. That is home. And awe. Home is this feeling of awe, of limitlessness. This. What you are seeing, feeling, sensing right now.”

She looked up at Craft. The stars were out in the sky. Colours of the galaxies reflecting his being. Focused, welcoming eyes. No fakeness. Oh, how she wanted to feel like this all the time.

”It’s a matter of choice my dear Dawn. Over and over again. Practice making these choices. Every choice matters. Every choice is yours. Give that power to yourself, and you are giving it to others. Now, let’s just enjoy the shooting stars.”

How was it possible to move like this, between a feeling of despair, of being lost to totally belonging?

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 15th 2019

Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 13th

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“Tell me, dear human, tell me the story about the trees and the sparkles. About the blindness to the inner light.”

Way curled up next to Dawn this morning after the 13th full moon. The morning the Queen Of Light paced in.

“My dear Red, my dear Way”, Dawn put one hand on the red wolf’s back, feeling the warmth of Way’s breathing spine through the palm of her hand. One. All Dawn could sense was one-ness. Way turned her head towards Dawn, nodding with her eyes to the one-ness-sense.

“ I could tell you the official story of the tree being put indoors, the one we are taught in school, but that’s not right. I felt it already back then in my bones, in every cell of my being,  that it’s just boring, flat, facts.”

“So tell me, dear Dawn, what your heart speaks. Your heart connected to Meru’s Wisdom, connected to all of us.”

Dawn took a moment, gazed through the landscape, soaking it all up with her eyes. Then she began.

“We always revered the tree, the trees. The wisdom unceasingly came to us through them. Then somewhere, gradually, along the line we lost it. We lost the wisdom. We lost the connection. We lost the joy, the spark, the light. Not literally, but we misplaced it. Or maybe it went in to hiding. I don’t know.”

Meru, Star, Elo, Wizard, Craft and Blue the pup joined in. Dawn continued.

“It felt like a long arm reaching out in the dark, grasping, fingers searching, palm sensing. Nothing.

Then somebody remembered the tree. That the tree was the doorway, the gate back to magic, to connection, to light.

She started decorating the trees with sparkles, with stars made of twigs, with shining rocks, with fallen leaves, with adorned pinecones. Gently she felt the light returning inside her heart, her ears, her eyes and soon she even started speaking light. All her words were woven with starlight, connection, silver threads. Alves, the Nisse, giants, trolls, fairies, dwarves, dragons, every being of nature’s realm came out of the perceived darkness, decorating the woods with her. The people of the valley woke up one morning mesmerized with the beauty of the trees, of the serene sense of peace in the woods. They decided they wanted to hold on to this, to bring it indoors.

Little by little they started moving the trees in. Everyone to their own home. Doors closed. One tree in each household. Eyes admiring the beauty. Magic getting sprinkled in their own house. Nisse moved in. He wanted to be the connection between in there and the light of nature out here. It worked for some time. Especially around the 13th full moon. That was a long time ago though.”

“Oh my”, Way replied. “Where and how do we begin with writing the new story?”

“By choosing wisely”, Meru spoke.

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 13th 2019

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

 

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 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

Dec 11th / The Promise, Part 11

 

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The crustfrozen snow made a sizzling, crackling sound as our skis cut through the thin surface. We had set our course direction Upper Glacier again. The ascent from this side of the lake was said to be a lot easier and less dreary than our long journey across the Lower Glacier.

The Husky Queens, Samoyed Knights and Shiba Pushers had made lunch camp up ahead. The view from up here was magic.

I stopped, shoved my poles in the snow, hung my lovikavantar on them as I took in the magic view over the valley below. The glittery frozen on the banks open in the centre river twirling towards High Lake. The reflection of the dancing shadows the soft, fresh snow made as it was being blown to and fro in the wind as if making music. The pines to one side, the cedar forest on the other. The pack of wolves leading us ahead – a mixture of White´s gracious, ancient tribe and Grey´s somewhat younger Rolling Stones style crowd.

I heard large wings flapping in the air. Who?

I knew Owl had to be up ahead with the wolves, and Raven?

Anytime there was any sort of food or drink to be prepared Raven was sure to be there first of all, I could hear him across the white landscape chattering in lunch camp.

A buzzard hawk almost landed in my face! I saw his eyes as surprised as mine as I was facing his claws on their way to touchdown. I swept my head to the side just in time.

”Jeeeeezessss!”, he settled in the snow next to my skis. ”You´ve got to get some other type of headgear! What you´re wearing looks strikingly like the top of a moss-covered old tree to a slightly sleepy hawk.”

”My apologies, sir”, I removed the beanie I´d recieved from Nisse years earlier. ”You mean this old thing?”

The buzzard nodded.

”It is actually quite nice I see now. Handcrafted by a true NisseMor I see. Not many of those around out in the open any more unfortunately”. He proceeded to fly up and post himself on the lovikavantar at the top of my skipoles.

”I´ve been sent by the matriarch of The Little People. The Nisse, the Vättar, The Moutain Dwarfs and The Silver Alves. It´s not wise to go jump through Ursa Major without the blessings and promises of these tribes, which I am bringing you as their messenger. ”It´s a quest of the soul” are their words.”

A quest of the soul?

Then and there I realized that my soul had started talking to me, as the poem which sprung out of my pen the day before finally made sense to me;

”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 11th 2018

No more

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He might look like a young, innocent,  devoid of experience, warrior, but he held the wrath and protection of his ancestors. They held his back, his flanks, his future. He walked in their footsteps. In his own way.

The silvery mist was coming off his cape, latched to his shoulders by heavy ornamented armour. His dragon may well be sleeping yet he felt her waking presence. Through the dimensions they were always side by side. One mind. One soul. One being.

Why was it so hard for us humans to live in all dimensions all at once? he asked himself. Why did greed, hatred, fear, possession set as if in stone in this un-magical cold, non sensing world if ours?

The world where we fought over things, countries, people without knowing why. There really was a darker force out there feeding in to all of this.

He moved his hand through his thick, blond hair. Decided then and there to never look back. To always look in to and for those other dimensions from this moment on. To notice where he was being pulled in to the dark, to notice where the scheming seemend to be winning, to notice when it felt like there was no way out.

Love. Faith. Trust. Faith. Trust. Love.
They are all one and the same force.

Faith.

Look. Notice.

Be NoBody, NoOne, NoThing. Tread the paths of the threads between dimensions. Will to see them. Want to live them. There. Bring them in here.
That is magic. That is the magic.

There is no difference between living it, seeing it, being it. It´s there. Just open the eyes. Open the senses. Feel it. Then speak.
Before that words just block.

Sense it. Then speak. From there. From that place.

His father looked over his back.
”Son, my sword is yours. It will cut through all you don´t know that you don´t know, as well as all that which stands in the way. Use it. Sense. Listen. Look. Use it from that place. Now go.”

Cecilia Götherström, October 23rd 2018

Return

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In a bag a few minutes ago I found this piece below which I wrote on Jan 10th 2014.
Reading it now, it gives me goosebumps – as giving the turmoil, development, moves and all that has happened the past 2,5 or even 3 years , it is more than symbolic that I wrote this early 2014 and am finding it today – July 12th.

Return

The return is imminent,
faith awaits

Her huge white wings
sweeping me in,
closing out the darkness for now

As the wings open
the dark, velvety night sky is adorned
with galaxies,
light-holes
and wishes turned in whisper

I stand there,
basking in her glow,
listening
to the whispers from now,
the whispers from before,
the whispers that were,
that are,
that will come.

In this place all is one.
There is no then,
no now,
no later.

Is the return really a return?
Or is it an opening of what was always there?

She asks me to open my eyes,
my ears, my heart,
with softness,
with a waiting,
whatever comes in.

A feather falls from the sky
into my hand,
I can feel its softness
caressing my cold palm,
almost making me giggle from the tickling feeling.

I watch the feather
as it turns and turns in my palm,
first slow,
then faster,
and faster.
The spiralling movements
makes it stir up
and away.

The feather has turned in to a huge raven,
first white,

when he takes flight I can see him
shifting in to grey,
then in to black,
his glistening eyes disappearing
with the flapping of his wings
directions Ursa Major.

The wind coming from the pine tress in the back,
bring another whisper,
a song,
an anthem.

There is a vibration from the ground,
I turn around.

The whole forest alive,
waving,
swaying,
gently sining a tune
of return,
of now,
of all never being anything other
than what is now.

A brown bear beckons me to come closer.
She has two cubs at her side.
It feels like I know them,
like I have seen them before,
like we are family.

I look up at the sky,
towards Ursa Major,
where Raven headed,
then look back at Mother Bear.

I return.

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Cecilia Götherström, 10/ 1 2014