Sagor

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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 14. Dec 14th.

Marcus was floating in that space between dreaming and waking. He felt like a feather swirling through space, gently landing on a soft, soft deep- sleep – breathing wolf belly. He felt the warmth, he heard the breath, he was one with that fuzzy, thick winter fur there in his featherness for a while.

“Oh, if I could grasp this and put it in the symphony”, a thought drifted through his mind. He woke up.

“Nooooo, I want to go baaaaaack”, he stretched out under the duvet.

“The grasping brought you back”, Barry’s voice from outside the bedroom window. “Just lean in to that tune again, drift on the first octave, let yourself be featherly carried and you can go back. Through any music.”

Barry had taken the habit of sleeping under Marcus bedroom window. That way they could both breathe in symphony he’d said. Marcus quite often got the feeling that the polar bear took finishing writing this symphony even more serious than he himself did.

“OK”, Marcus said. “I am awake already. Might as well get up and get out. I am done with this onyxing. I can hear the moonstones calling.”

“That can only mean one thing”, Barry’s voice now came from the front door. “There is just one way to journey to the place where we meet all the moonstones. Make sure to pack more than lunch my dear Marcus.”

Marcus made his staple breakfast of oats, apricots, bananas and nuts for himself, a full side of smoked salmon with some dried lingonberries for Barry. Sat down out on the porch with the bear as they both watched a full show of Northern Lights making its way through and around the Milky Way. It was 3 minutes past 3 in the morning. No moon.

“New Moon today”, Marcus said. “I guess there could not really be a better time to start the journey to the moonstones. I mean, we finished quite some chapters yesterday, both the movements for the symphony and the heavy chapters for the book”.

“You are so right my dear WolfHearted Human of the Wilderness”, Barry replied. “I can sense that our guides are not very far from here. They heard the cry of readiness in your dream as you landed and started on their last leg this way already.”

Marcus had just finished making what Barry had called “not just a lunch package”, closed his backpack, got his “good walking shoes” out as he called them, staff in hand – no clue why, but he felt he’d needed what his neighbour Gina called “the witching wizard’s staff” for this walk. It was a pretty long staff which Star had found in the river when she was just a little puppy. She’d pulled it out of the water with all her might and dragged it up to the house. Put it in front of his feet. He smiled at the memory as he tied it to the backpack.

A howl. Quiet. Then a choir of howls. Through the treeline at the back of the house he could see countless eyes shining in the dark. One large, grey wolf stood out front. The rest of the pack waited in the trees.

“Our guides are here”, Barry waved at Marcus with his head and then gestured towards the family of greys.

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 14th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 13. December 13th.

Tea. Dark chocolate. Glitter and sparkle against a velvety background shining through the opening of this gianormous cave.

Samantha almost had to pinch herself.

Awaiting Lucia-morning here. Inside the first of the Mountains of Stillness caves, with the Queen of Dragon Queens Mama D herself. It was bigger than any dream she’d ever had for herself.

“Is that really true? Like in the heart of your heart of hearts true?” Vayu asked as he curled up next to Samantha.

“What do you mean “really true”?”, Samantha replied.

“You know, we quite often think we wish the most splendid things and experiences for ourselves, involving places, things, beings, moments, even those as superbous as this one right now. Yet they are more focused on others. Like this Lucia – morning, like Mama D. They are both true energies of Love and Fierceness. Power. Both of those energies are living from their heart of hearts. If you would truly live from the heart of hearts right now in this magic, sacred moment, what would you do? What would the tea and chocolate of your soul be so to speak in this very moment?”

“I would pick up an instrument, pen and paper. I would write. I would sing.” Samantha heard herself blurting out without hesitation or thought. 

“I would sing this moment. I would sing the stars. I would sing the light. I would sing darkness. I would sing healing. I would sing love. I would sing home. And for Marcus somewhere down there in the valley I would sing Star.”

“See, sister!”, Vayu’s eyes glistened. They had already transformed from their puppy blue to dark night sky blue. Soon they would change to yellow as he reached his fully grown self. “That is what you should be doing. Sing all that. Be the music, be the holy reverence resting inside of you. With Fierceness. Sacred Fierceness.”

“Sacred Fierceness?” Samantha looked like she had an epiphany. “I’ve heard that phrase before. In whispers. Some days ago! At the beginning of our hike I think? Did you hear them too?”

“It’s what my mother always spoke about.” Vayu said. “Though she was only with us for our 16 first weeks, I can still hear her whispering “Sacred Fierceness” from her way wandering Home.”

“Home?” Samantha wondered. “Wasn’t home with you and your siblings?”

“She was called Home quite suddenly, to the Home with a capital H, very soon after we’d arrived. Her task is about five dimension from here I believe. I am walking our task here, yet we are always connected. Sacred Fierceness is that bond. To your music and your songwriting too. Wow, look!”

Outside a light-carriage was moving across the starry skies, getting closer and closer. Fairies and winged beings lighting the way. It was heading right towards the cave opening.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 13th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 11. Dec 11th

Another evening on the path following the pawsteps of the little bundle of joy & life force Vayu The Whispering Wolf. They were being guided by Josephiel the Cloud Shrouding White Dragon floating in the air just above them through the valley,  heading towards the Mountain of Stillness and Silence.

Josphiel was of the opinion that wading through deep snow was no dragon business, taking to the wild blue yonder was.

Vayu had hidden a laugh within a yawn as he’d said “Let him believe he’s the one guiding us. There ain’t no better guide in this dimension than this very nose right here”.

Samantha was really enjoying these nightly hikes. They were usually on the move until just before midnight. Then they’d either find or build a shelter. For her, both Josephiel and Vayu were very clear about every time.

“For that somewhat frozen little human”, they would joke daily.

This evening they were getting close to their last hike among the trees. Shelter would probably be just above the treeline.

The glittering snow crystals reflected the Milky Way, or was it the other way around?

“Everything is a reflection”, Vayu said. “All the beauty you see in the world, all the things you reject, criticize or judge, they are all part of your perception reflecting back at you. That is why The Whispers are so powerful. Why you want them on your side. The Whispers are closer to Truth than the words you cover them with when you speak and think loud thoughts covering any possibility to perceive the most perceivable of them all. The Still Whispers of Your Soul. Only in stillness can you hear them. The Whispers.”

“Are you saying that this gorgeousness of diamondy glittery silver lives inside of me too?”, Samantha asked.

“Yes! And do you know what more lives inside of you?… 

Vayu went dead quiet.

“Come on, are you going to tell me?” 

Vayu did not move. He did not even flinch. 

Samantha looked up in the direction his eyes stared. Holy moly…. Was that an avalanche? There was no sound, so there could not be, right?

The sparkly cloud of glittery-moon-reflecting-snow-star-dust rushing down the mountain slope was the size of a jumbo jet.  As the diamond-dust evaporated something took shape where the sparkle settled.

“Mum!”, Josephiel twirled in the air, somersaulted towards them.

Right in front of Samantha and Vayu, the largest, grey-sparkling dragon anyone could possibly imagine.

“Enchanted”, she exhaled. “Mama D welcomes you all.”

  • Cecilia Götherström , December 11th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 10. Dec 10th

IMG_1057

Star.

Star in the heart.

Beam.

So connected.
Me and you.

Love stronger than water.
Love stronger than ice.
Love more solid than rocks,
than meteorites
sparkling, splitting, hitting
this Earth,
emanating it with
Love, Love, Love.

That Fierceness,
That Fierceness between your shoulder blades,
move it forward,
move it to your heart,
let it blaze that beam out,

of Star
of Love
of Sacred, sacred Love
of Fierceness
of Power
of Song
of Celebration
of Connection unsurpassed.

In honour of the two of us,
nothing breaks Star
or her Star,
nothing stops that beam,
that straight
straight
bridge

of solid Love,
of heart cracked open,
exploded
into splinters.

Making space.
Space.
For all that is
and was
and wishes to be.

To rest.
Rest in that Space.
Eternally.
As it already is.

Feel it,
Sense it,
Receive it.
Let it explode.
Do not hold back.

Star.

A power so strong.
No darkness can
Withhold the fierce force of
Light.

Star.
Beam.
Beam of StarLight.
Straight out through your heart.
In to mine.
In to All that Is.
All that We Are.

All.
All.
All.

Now.

Be.
Be Sacred.
Be Fierceness.

Star

– Cecilia Götherström, December 10th 2020.

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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 9. December 9th.

Marcus picked up his pen. His writing-feather was actually a ballpoint pen adorned with a massive feather.

He’d found it in a jewelry store of all places when he was fourteen years old. His mum had brought him to that store to pick out a present from his Mormor for his confirmation. Whether religious or not, everyone in the village got confirmed. It was more of a tradition than something strictly religious. A rite of passage. Somehow, somewhere along the way the event had gotten symbolized by jewelry.

Young Marcus would rather have gone out in the woods or down to the river with Mormor herself and picked out a stone together, but mum had insisted her mum wanted to give him something “valuable” that he could “cherish” for the rest of his life – preferably in gold. Marcus had smiled to himself at those words as he knew that was mum’s wish, not Mormor’s. Mormor – and Morfar – had always taught him that nothing is more valuable, nothing is to be cherished more, than this Earth we walk upon and all of her creations.

He’d seen the pen, a huuuuge Eagle Feather attached to it, between a selection of gold crucifixes and “faith, hope and love” themed earrings.

“That one, please”, he’d pointed to the pen.

Mum had raised her eyebrows, but before she could shake her head in a no Marcus had pointed to the little marking proving it was sterling silver. A compromise well worth giving she had decided.

Here he was, 35 years later, a celebrated composer and musician. And it was this pen, this pen only which produced the magic. As soon as he touched it he was transported. Just like when he put his fingers gently on the keys of the piano.

And Star.

She had been his co-composer. 

His magic portal.

All this time.

This morning he had gone out for a 4 am starbathing walk in the snow. Something or someone had called him out of his sleep. By now he had learned to listen to those “whispers”, as he called them.

Down at the river bank he looked up to the skies. North Star. Great Bear. Orion. The Doggies.

Across the ice a misty figure came walking. As the shape got closer it seemed huge. The size of a Polar Bear. He sat down. Rubbed his eyes. It was. A Polar Bear. Should he be afraid? He’d lived with a wolf with little over 12 years, so maybe not?

The bear stopped. A few meters out on the ice still. Saying;

“May I?”

Marcus gestured to the large space in between himself and the trees. The bear settled in.

“Thank you. It was one hmmmm of a journey getting here from the dimensions of the outer banks. But now I am here, you are here, so we can better get acquainted as we need to finish that piece “Home”. The most magnificent symphony to ever grace these dimensional planes.”

Marcus did his best to take it all in. The large white bear pushed him gently on the shoulder. “Barry’s the name. Like Barry-ton.” he said with a wink.

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 9th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 8. December 8th.

I really don’t know how I got here. I really don’t remember. Why am I sitting here at the table, no Star curled up at my feet, writingfeather in hand? 

No clue. There’s so much I really don’t understand. Can’t fathom. It is fascinating how easy it is to tap in to living in ignorance, letting life flow by and you flow with it – instead of inside it. She was inside it. Inside life. Always.

“Dreams!”, Vayu whispered out over the frozen water. “Dreamsssssss….”

‘Yes, dreams!”, Josephiel joined him. A little louder though.

“What are you all on about with this dreams-thing?” Samantha looked at both the tiny wolf pup and the large dragon.

“Well”, Vayu jumped on to her lap, challenged her to a hug wolf style. “Marcus just said the words. The code. Which  means the release has started. The life inside the life. The gate to all the doors, dimensions, directions or what you humans might call “secrets”. Have you ever pondered how the word “Secret” almost sounds like “Sacred”? Try saying both really fast after each other twentyfive times and see what happens!”

Josephiel let out a belly laugh as he tried and barely made it past the third round.

“What does that have to do with dreams?” Samantha still felt a little lost in translation.

“Conscious Dawn is the first step, Live Inside Life the second one”, Vayu explained. “We’ve now got two of seven instructions. So it’s time to dream the world we want to see dawning inside life, for ourselves and for this Earth. One at a time. Then we can step back, see how they intertwine and whisper life in to both. As Marcus is healing, Star is getting deeper on  the path of Home and we all move ahead on all our journey.”

“What is our journey then?”, Samantha asked.

“Sooooo many questions dear human, yet so little stillness for the answers,” Josephiel puffed out with a bit of morning fire directed at the wood under the coffeepot.

“Hmmmm. So, I should stop asking and wait then?” Samantha scratched her head.

“No, no, noooo.” Vayu howled. “Ask the questions! Ask many, many questions! Listen to the questions. There, inside the question lies the answer. Or the first silver thread leading you to the answer. Inside.”

A gentle snowfall started to fall around the trio.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 8th 2020
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 6. Dec 6th

Touch. Meeting. Fierceness.

Sacred.

Sacred Touch.

Sacred Meeting.

Sacred Fierceness.

Home.

Marcus was walking between the pine trees. Following path leading from the back of the house up to Beaver Lake. Here he could always take everything in. Listen. Listen to the whispers of his soul. Something his Great Ma had taught him to do.

Great Ma was not his grandmother by bloodline. She was the Grand Mother for everyone living scattered on this large space of land of mountains, streams, lakes, waterfalls, peaks, rocks, woods and wilderness. She was like the moon – always there, always still yet so powerful, always present. She had taught all the kids in school how to listen to The Whispers Of The Soul. 

When she retired from her position as woodwork, arts, crafts and music teacher at the village school she started giving drumming lessons in the village hall on Saturday mornings. Drumming and jojking.

Those Saturday mornings they had learned how to drum the questions, how to listen and then jojk or sing the answers as they came in.

Sacred Touch.

Sacred Meeting.

Sacred Fierceness.

The first two parts had moved in like pieces from a mystic veil. The last part, placed like a statement in the snow.

Marcus kept following the path. Stars started to fill up the sky as the sun disappeared behind the treetops, making way for the moon. He knew he had only scratched the surface. The phrases were an invitation to dig deeper, an instruction to plunge.

Symphonies never took plunges. They had crescendos, build ups, cross overs. Never plunges.

He was afraid that he would lose himself if he plunged. As soon as that insight hit him he stopped, sighed, raised his hands up to catch a few soft snowflakes falling off the pine branches.

“The soul lives in the unknown. It’s never happy, nor supposed to live in the known of the mind. It’s supposed to live in the heart. And the heart can only be fully open when you are open to fall. Fall to Grace. Fall in Love. Fall Over. Fall.”

He heard Great Ma as if she was speaking from the space between the pine needles, the space inside the pine cones.

“Keep walking son. Keep following her footsteps. Remember in your heart where she wanted to go, what she wanted, what gave her joy, what made her strong, what released her, remember and follow that”, the voice spoke to his entire Beingness.

Her name. He had to speak her name out loud to be able to reach that magic again. Why was it so hard to do that?

Home.

He just wanted to call her Home.

He fell to his knees in the snow, laid down on his belly making a snow angel, his face buried in the snow. He rolled over. Lay on his back, caught falling snow flakes with his tongue like when he was a kid, watched the stars, the tops of the firs moving back and forth, back and forth, covering and revealing, covering and revealing.

That was it! Covering and revealing. Covering and revealing!

“Star”.

He spoke her name out loud.

“Star!”

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 6th 2020
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Kringlans Kalender 2020/ Sacred. Part 4. December 4th.

Josephiel was squirting with his large, gorgeous, sparkling dragon eyes to look deep in to the crystal wall in front of him. He stroke the wall of the gigantic Fire & Ice rock with his front paws, followed the straight edges up until they started to point up towards the crystal peak. Its summit seemed to connect through the hole in the ceiling of the cave straight up to the North Star.

He turned tilted his head a bit to the side, to be able to see between the lines, which were running vertically closest to the wall and then crisscrossing like spider webs through the inner space of the gem, a little better.

He was zooming in. Wow! It seemed like he was moving closer just by focusing!

He put his claw on the surface of the crystal wall. His claw moved through the surface as if it was water! Then his whole front leg went through to his elbow.

 Wooooow!  He put his nostrils against the surface. His whole head moved through. 

Wowowowooooow! He moved his whole front body through the crystal veil. Within seconds his tail swung through and he heard a cracking sound behind him once he was entirely on the other side. Like ice breaking. When he turned to look he saw it was actually ice healing. 

Well, that was the Ice part of the Fire & Ice. Now, where was the Fire?

“Ho,ho,ho!”, he heard a voice through the trees. “Where is the Fire? Ho, ho, hooooo! You’re a dragon ain’t you?”

Josephiel smiled to himself.

Of course! He’d seen the Ice. He was bringing the Fire. He laughed out loud and he smacked himself on the forehead with his paw. 

OK, so what was in front of him right here right now? He decided to take to the air and check the place out from the skies of this dimension.

After some twists and turns, some serious sky dancing White-Dragon-style, he was close to the glen he’d seen when he peaked in to the crystal for the first time. 

Indeed, there was movement down there.

Disguising himself as a soft cloud he managed get pretty close. Two beings making their way through deep snow. One was a little wolf pup, he could see now. He sensed its playful energy, paired with a seriousness. Like this wolf pup had a huge task. The road before him seemed to be paved with an enormous purpose. 

And the other one?  Hmmmmm, small too but not as playful… 

Was it? Oh yes, it was!  It was a human. But how come did she have the same clan energy print as the little wolf pup?

They both stopped, looked up, straight at him.

“Josephiel! I know you are there.” The voice was not outside him. It was telephatically arriving inside his head.

“Who are you? How do you know me? My name? How can you see me? Where are you?” Josephiel sent back.

“It’s me! Vayu! The Wind Whispering Wolf! I am here! With you!  Or right below you Cloud Shrouding White Dragon! Welcome!” 

Josephiel looked down and saw the little wolf pup jumping up and down, pulling the rim of the humans coat with his teeth while pointing his nose up to the sky.

“And this is Samantha. Flower Of The North.”  Vayu turned his head towards the girl.

“Delighted to meet you Samantha”, Samantha heard coming out of the cloud above them.

She looked up as the cloud gently morphed in to the most gorgeous dragon she ever could have imagined. He looked like he was made of crystals and diamonds and stars and sagas. Sacred.

Silent Night.

Cecilia Götherström , December 4th 2020.

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Kringlans Kalender 2020/ Sacred. Part 3. December 3rd.

“Sacred Touch. Sacred Meeting.”

He heard the words as if they were alive, dancing in space in the room, sliding around the Christmas tree still waiting to be decorated, floating over the grand piano where he was sitting, caressing the keys of the instrument like he was moving his fingertips through her fur. Gently, carefully, lovingly, with an intent to listen to the music of her presence, the one thing which would open his heart up wide. With her, everything had been possible. With her, his whole life – and not just his work – had become a symphony.

People had called him crazy, taking in a 60 kg rescued wolf in his house when he already spent close to a full work day behind the piano quite often seven days a week. How would he have time for the hours of movement, care and attention this animal required ?

But he knew. The minute he had looked in to her eyes, he knew. This was it. Why he was here on this earth. Why she was here on this earth.

The magic he felt under his fingertips when playing the piano, the magic which spun its way in to human hearts and living room speakers, came from the wild, from the habitat which she was. 

Together they had roamed many nights under the stars in the snow, many days up and down the mountains during the light months of the year, spent many mornings down at the lake fishing in each their own way.

“Sacred Fierceness”.

The words danced around him again. He felt in his soul abode that it was her. She was speaking to him from the other side of the veil. The way the words moved there was no other possibility.

The past months since he’d lost her, he found himself more misplaced than ever. 

Not even the music could lead him back. For months his state of mind was in a place of constant straying.

Then, one morning, a strange looking half grey, half white feather swirled down from the rooftop, landed in his morning coffee as he was sitting on the porch looking for the meaning of that day with all his might. 

The way the feather danced was the beginning of this new symphony he was working on right now.

Home.

He had wanted to call it Home. Yet the word “Sacred” kept coming up. Wherever he looked, whatever he did, whatever he read, whatever he listened to, the word was there. 

He got the hint. Named the symphony “Sacred Home”. 

Yet right now he was in a place where his heart felt a need to become unbroken before he could continue with what he’d worked on these last three days since the feather had landed.

“Marcus?”

Gina, his only neighbor, peaked in through the front door. Bob, the Labrador, as always right next to her.

 “Did you write the words “Sacred Fierceness” in the snow out front?”

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 3rd 2020. 

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Kringlans Kalender 2020/ Sacred, Part 2, December 2nd

“Deep in the Celtic heart no stone is left unturned, deep in the Celtic heart no stone is left unturned, deep in the Celtic heart no stone is left unturned.”

Josephiel was singing as he was turning the stones in his crystal cave. The ancient white dragon had been awakened two days ago, 21 full days before his presence in this particular awakened state should be requested according to the ancient calendar. This state was by the way “far below” the dimension he usually abided in. 

A whispering “turn the stonesssss……turn the stonesssssshhhh….” had gently breathed in to his consciousness two eves ago and he knew immediately what to do.

Even though he had been looking forward to hanging the entire 21 days at his ancestors table, he also enjoyed being “called back”. You see, that was, or is, Josephiels sound – everything put in front of you is there for you. It is how you handle what is there which makes the difference.

“Deep in the celtic heart, no stone is left unturned….”

He was turning over opal, onyx, moonstone and rosequartz at the western part of the cave. With every turn the vibration of each stone moved more forcefully out in to the ether than if the stone just lay there still.

“Just like us”, Josephiel said as he talked to the stones. “When we move, when we act, we create a force. Whether that force is spreading sparkle or doom depends entirely on how many stones we’ve turned in our hearts.”

He came to a sudden halt. Sensing a presence in the cave. Different from the presence of the crystals. Different from the presence of his own breath.

He shifted his awareness down his neck, sensed in to the air with his wings, moved the tip of his long tail to be ready just in case.

Usually he could always feel how many stones had been turned in the heart of whomever came near. This time there was only presence. He’d never sensed that before. Or had he?

He turned around slowly. Still a bit on edge.

He saw nothing. Smelled nothing. When he tasted the air there was nothing unfamiliar to be detected.

Josephiel moved past the mountain of moonstones he’d just turned, blinked a few times with his large dragon eyes at what was in front of him. He realized he looked in to the largest Fire & Ice crystal he had ever met. As large he himself was when he stood up straight on his front paws.

He looked in to the crystal expecting it to mirror himself as it was so clear and bright.

He had to move closer, look deeper in to the clearness.

What was that? Deep, deep snow. Fir trees. Wind. Movement at the back of the glen between the trees.

Was that a whisper right there?

Cecilia Götherström, 2 December 2020