The Starling crying out,
singing, calling.
A portrait of what is awakening, breaking.
A call of the wild from deep within.
Green moss embedded in the Earth.
It was time to take a new name.
She had been known as Wolf Woman, Fighter, Grand Symphony of Cacophony and many more names before. Now there was just presence.
“I am a force of Nature. I am Power and Stillness in one.”
The Trinity of Presence, Power and Stillness.
The Trinity of the new era.
The Trinity of Starlight.
“I am a force of Nature. I am Power and Stillness in one”, had landed in her lap, via Starlight, some months ago. What it meant had not dawned on her gently. It had done so abruptly. Several times. Multiple abruptness one might say, if that’s a term.
The Trinity of Presence, Power and Stillness.
“It is needed now. It will be sorely needed in the months and years to come. Remember it like a storm within when the wrecking ball bashes outside. Stand in The Trinity of Presence, Power and Stillness. In it. Not outside it. Not around it. In it.”
The Northern Lights were swooshing, speaking, singing to her again. Amazing how they seemed to pick up where Reindeer had left off.
Trinity picked her pen up. Closed the book. It was time to write the new story. With every breath. With every step. With every backlash anew.
The Trinity of Power, Presence and Stillness.
Moon and Star. Star and Moon.
Starlight.
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
“The journey of happiness, sadness and gratitude is the gift underneath the mistletoe. When you mistake that one for the truth of who you really are, that’s when sadness wins.”
Peaking in to the depths of the cold water, she saw and heard the reindeer speak behind her, his breath creating crystals of frozen dampness in the space surrounding them.
“See, I speak on an exhalation and draw inspiration on the inhalation.”
She turned around. Placed her hands around his beautiful, large, wise cheeks. Touched her nose to his. As she said “thank you” she noticed herself becoming that “thank you”.
“Where you end and your words begin is unclear. As there is no division. How you speak so it is and so you are and so it is. Just never ever stop. Never stop as a habit. Always stay in tune with where you are, to the movement. Follow the breath, follow the heart.”
The standstill of the past times was no more. She could feel it release.
“Feel it, let go, let loose, literally loosening its grip. There is nothing to grasp any more. Nothing to hold on to.
Holding on to hurts. Moving brings flow, brings fluidity, brings choice. If you freeze in the middle of a storm you are left to endure whatever is thrown at you and you will most likely be thrown around yourself. If you can move with the storm, with the debris, you feel the storm build and subside, you can move, take a step further out when you want and need to and you can utilize the power of the storm when you need it.
You humans have forgotten how to utilize the tremendous natural powers within you, the tremendous powers of nature. It happened when you all decided to put poles in the ground and stay in one place. All of a sudden you needed protection, shelter, locks and bolts. So you bolted up your heart and your joy in the process. Go release, go girl, go!”
The reindeer turned around and danced his gentle way towards the trees on the bank of the frozen river. She watched him disappear in the distance, feeling a sense of glimmer and hope of something similar to fulfilment for the first time a very, very long while.
This focus on negativity exhausted her. Like you were living in a minefield with fighter jets above your head.
How to vibe higher than this?
How to? How to? How to?
Practice, practice, practice.
“I’ll be home for Christmas”, the speakers toned out.
What is home? And why be there just for Christmas?
Home is your own truth. Home is where you are loved and where you love. Home is where your being is sheltered.
Christmas is a state of mind. A consciousness, where giving and receiving is the same action. Where Christ consciousness is massed.
Where all is gentle, all is seen, all is held. In the one and the same cauldron. In the one and the same shift. Where you don’t look for meaning, where meaning is.
This, that , all, everywhere.
In this time of coldness of souls the hearth is the star in the heart. The play. The ferocity. The calling in of dragons. Of Sacred Fierceness.
White looked at Grey. Grey looked at White. Together they were balance. Harmony.
What steps do we need to take for Harmony? How can we kindle her? How can we leap in to her embrace every morning, be her, live her?
Harmony and Kindness. Kindness and Harmony.
“It’s all a little too much right now. Sprinkle it all with some harmony, kindness and coffee and you will be way on your way child, way on your way.”
She called in the Angels. She called in Source Light. Realizing that you call in what already exists within you, that which if you don’t voice and sound it , the powers, the source, the light cannot act. They can only shine. And if you are blind to their light you cannot receive the reflection of that light in your heart. In your star.
The angels said “Let us hold you, let us bow over you, lift you from underneath, surround you, love you, hold you. All you need to do is ask. Ask and surrender.”
“I surrender”. She folded forwards in a bow, a prayer, like a feather flowing to the ground, lightly resting there. “No more fighting. No more. I am done. Done fighting. Done resisting. Done.”
“You are that which you Are”, the angels sang. “ A part of Source Light. Nothing else. The rest is just a coat. A coat of many colours.”
She saw a diamond. A diamond with all its facets. The light shone through. It touched the inside. The inside reflected back. The outside reflected the inside back.
“Where the light comes from is not important. When you feel encumbered by shadow, sit in that light,” the Northern Lights swooshed their song her way. Diamonds and crystals of white, green and purple faceting their way through the skies.
The angels widened their circles. Their light became one with the beaming sky in the darkness.
“Without darkness, no fluorescence. In this dark season all can be folded in, embraced, loved, let go of where needed. Life is one big inhale and exhale. Life is one big expansion and contraction. Its energy is light. Its outcome is light. The deeper the winter dark, the stronger the magic, the stronger the light.”
She exhaled. She sighed. Gave herself to the earth. Done.
A wet little nose against hers. A puppy tongue licking her face, sharp little teeth testing the boundaries on her nose. Love.
Moon and Star. Star and Moon.
The first language was song.
The first language was light.
Eclectic.
She shone in my shadow and I shone in hers.
Always.
Shadow and Light. Light and Shadow.
Moon and Star. Star and Moon.
Clouds swirling consciously around the unconscious brain. Tides resisting the glow.
The old, the dark, the grey. To be lifted forever.
It will be painful they said.
But what is pain?
It is what you feel when you don’t shine your light.
Star and Moon. Moon and Star.
The crescent uncovered. The sparkle looking down, connecting.
Clouds dancing.
Cold, yet not cold enough.
Wet, murky, rotten.
Waiting for the true embrace bywinter.
Will it come? Will it ever come again?
The magic of sparkle.
Of the here and now.
Of taking new direction while simultaneously being direction.
Moon and Star. Star and Moon.
Sharing the same sky, the same heavens. Being light. Being song. Being magic. Being direction. Being.
Being Star. Being Moon.
The first language is still song. The first language is still light.
Moon and Star. Stars and Moon.
Like pearls being born through filigree silver and Milky Way woven grandeur, like horses and unicorns swooshing through the green clouds of the Northern Lights with its purple shades dancing above the snow covered peaks and steppes, Moon and Star dance through the dark velvet seeing All and Every-thing.
Sometimes the shadows come out to make sure you remember.
Star and Moon. Moon and Star.
Always remember.
Always.
Live now.
The sun sets and rises.
The moon travels.
The Star adorns.
The Trinity.
Sun. Moon. Star.
This is the tale of Moon and Star. This is the season of no stone left unturned. This is the time of your ripe uncovering.
Sun. Moon. Star.
Sun is Star.
Star is Sun.
Moon is reflection.
Star and Moon. Moon and Star.
What will be will be.
What is, is.
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
She closed her eyes to the world, like she had closed her heart to the world too many years before. The world was not what she needed and the world did not need her.
Well, not the real her anyway.
What the world seemed to need was the one she could never be. The one she had tried to be. The one she had done her best to live up to. Which had never been enough.
She closed her eyes and promised to never look back. Only to look inwards. Following the symbols and the keys. Passing through doors new and old over and over again. Inner doors and inner dimensions.
What is out there is what is out there yet it’s not out there.
To see for real you have to fly with your eyes wide shut. So that your souls eyes are held open. Letting the silence speak like the Northern Lights sing. Stalling your gaze on that magnificence. That magnificence your being truly is.
When you walk down to the river’s edge where the white , crisp ice meets the dark lava coloured bottomless water and you peer in to the depths only to see the reflections of endless space, multitudes of stars and galaxies undiscovered. Then.
When you are there, and you lean a little further over the filigreed edge, and you look in to two deep, brown eyes, adorned by a silver grey mane, a large white muzzle, you realize that you are looking at a reflection of that unicorn which is you.
You pull back.
You look again.
Nothing has changed.
Or has everything changed?
The silver grey hair now adorns a woman dressed in white swirling lace and crystal studded layers dancing in the windless night to the rhythm of the Northern Lights.
“Be what you want to be, dive deep in to your true desires and be only that”, the wind which was not there, whispered.
She opened her eyes.
“See what is not there”, the whispers continued.
The first snow had started to fall. Out there, past the frosty grass, across the dunes, over the beach, a butterfly spread its wings.
“Don’t be afraid of completing your transformation even if tomorrow could be your last day. It’s all in the hands of you”.
How to love some-one,
How to love some-thing
How to
How can we
when
the world is whirling around us
and we whirl with
it
How to love some-one
We stop.
We stare.
The stare becomes looking
The looking becomes watching
Watching with gentler, widening eyes
Watching with nostrils wide
open
Watching with inner ears
listening
Listening from the soul
It just happens
When we
stop.
Right there, then,
in the stopping
we see the eternal moving
dripping its life essence
into the blood of our breath
Right there,
right in front of us,
above,
below,
in the middle,
to all sides
Love,
as a gentle breeze
and a powerful force,
moving
moving in the stillness
the stillness of our being
There it is.
Love.
Adventure.
Stillness.
Love, adventure, stillness.
We know it not by name,
We know it by knowing
- Cecilia Götherström, Sep 12th 2022
If I am really honest, in my heart of hearts I
will soar like a bird,
touching the snow covered mountain tops.
I will run downhill
paws deep in the mud,
grass
and moss
like a wolf,
chased by the wind, embraced by
moving space,
scents, a whiff
on a hunt
not for food but
for play,
for life,
for joy.
If I am really honest, in my heart of hearts I
will sing to the dawn, dance
in the shadows of morning
and eve.
I will not
succumb to this mediocre
numbness of
sitting
not to be sitting but
to be seated
where someone put you.
If I am really honest,
in my heart of hearts there is
no resistance,
no pull,
no push,
no tug,
no moving,
without purpose.
Like a reed in the wind,
its movement its purpose.
If I am really honest,
in my heart of hearts I will
throw out all the blankets,
the cushions,
the pillows and
their safety-nets.
In there, in my heart of hearts
is she,
her,
it,
them,
this,
whatever opens,
whatever closes
holding a candle,
enjoying the flickering of the
light,
the wind,
the rain,
the snow,
the sea,
the cold,
the sun,
the wintery, wintery skies.
If I am really honest, in my heart
of hearts
that mountaintop
is my home,
those woods my
backyard, my pantry
that river, my blood.
I sit there,
having chosen
to sit there
myself.
I live there.
Having chosen to live there
myself.
I breathe there,
having chosen to be there,
myself
In my heart of hearts.
Cecilia Götherström, April 23rd 2022
“When the full moon dances in its own light. When its shadow pulls the breath of slivering starlight. When the omens and signs are one and the same. When the exhalation of the pine trees is your sleep, your lingering moments of trust. That is when the moonstone sings to you my child”.
Nejla recognized the lingering song with her heart. It had been spoken before, not too long ago. It touched her soul-strings.
The sun was at its highest in the sky. The longest night and the shortest day was casting long shadows here at midday. Dawn had presented itself earlier in between the waning full moon and the rising sun. Moments of magic, of twilight, of choice as the day broke in to being.
Nejla stood on the plains of the upper ranges, soup-mug in hand, viewing the vast open spaces surrounding her. Every breath up here this time of year created visible mist. Humans rarely ventured up here anymore. They just could not be bothered to take the arduous trek through The Valley of Thorns.
She watched the sun gently moving towards the mountain tops. Soon it would take its dive behind the peaks and the Aurora would be swooshing in.
Rick was gathering all the dogs. This morning they had all gone on a “walking expedition” so that the dogs could have a well-deserved rest after two weeks of constant day treks,.
Luca the Labrador and Ricky’s husky pack Thor, Kabir, Storm, Wolfie and Saint had taken the lead. Jumping, digging, rolling around in the snow like they were still puppies. The joy rubbed off instantly.
Nejla and “The Crew” – her pack with the dear husky Starlight, the super strong and cuddly Malamute Tuva and the joyful Samoyed Kriya – had tried their best to get Maddy the Magnificent out of her comfortable space in the cargo basket, but the black cat had refused to leave her view place. Off they’d gone without Maddy, jumping, rolling, digging along.
Now it was time for rest. Everyone together around the fire.
A bit higher up to their left Alabasters pack of wolves were resting. Even higher up to the right Snowflakes pack of snow leopards were just waking up, gently stretching and yawning.
“What defines and adventurer I wonder?”, Nejla looked at Starlight.
“It’s not dramatic, it’s subtle.” Starlight replied. “Someone who walks”.
“Just drop it, move on. Change course”, she on the other side of the veil added.
“There are doorways, there are bridges, there are walls. You can break them, run or climb them or you can choose. Choose to listen. To uncover. To align. You can choose to open, to cross, to disintegrate through gentleness.” Starlight continued. “It is not dramatic, it is subtle. Where you go from here is up to you. Your heart is connected. Always. Remember – breath is the doorway, silence is the answer.”
Nejla put her mug down in the snow. Ricky did the same.
“Uncover! Uncover! Uncover! Be!” she took another breath. “Embrace! Embrace! Embrace! Align!” She stood where she stood. Just stood.
Snow under her feet, wilderness in her heart. Huskies, wolves, malamutes, cats, dragons, labradors, snow leopards, samoyeds, friends, stars, songs and winter storms. Nejla was home. Aligned. Her heart was full. She exhaled.
Or no, not stuck, just sluggishly proceeding, Nejla corrected herself mid thinking.
“Totally fascinating how deep many thought patterns are. You slip in to them without noticing, then you react and only then do you realise it is too late”, she spoke out loud to herself.
“What is too late?” Ricky asked.
“I guess nothing is too late”, Nejla realized as she replied. “We can always go back and change. We can always connect again and think or say or do what we really meant, not what our old patterns meant. I believe I have come to understand that this is actually what evolving in life is all about. Dropping the masks, gently tearing down the walls and owning what we need to release and uncover. Going back to those we dropped our reaction on, including when that one is ourselves at times, rephrasing, repairing. Through that we not only heal our patterns but we also heal the other being across from us as we throw out a bridge of loving rainbowlight through that very act. Does that sound weird or mushy?”
“Nothings mushy in the life of a musher!”, Ricky couldn’t help himself, slapping his knees, laughing at his own joke.
Soft, gentle chello like music drifted through the air, swirling around the mountaintops, dropping in and out of the crevasses, dancing, mixing, transforming. The full moon travelled across the heavens. No hurry. Just gently journeying.
“Do you know that command on the computer when everything seems to be out of whack?” Nejla looked across at Ricky as she moved the dogs from the sleds to the stakeout.
“Force Quit, you mean?”, Ricky was half way head down and half his torso in to the Cargo Basket, getting the dogs meals out.
“Yes!”, Nejla enthusiastically replied. “It feels like the spell will work just like “Force Quit”. When things are stuck, just hanging there, solidly glued in the same warp you need a “Force Quit” right?”
“Right as rain”, Thor budged in and replied.
“Starlight, Starlight, Comets and Void. Be bright. Shine clear”.
Lyrics were forming to the swirling music.
Nejla looked over at Starlight. Their eyes met. In that moment Nejla realized that Starlight’s very eyes looked just like that – starlight. Why had she not seen that before? Furthermore, Starlights red and white fur reflected the starlight from above as well as the frozen starlight they rested upon. Was it Starlight singing as she gently howled or was it the crevasses?
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 