Elsa’s Song, Dec 18th 2021

The woman’s weathered hands moved across the ancient wand. 

To the untrained eye the object looked like a shrivelled up piece of wood. 

To Disa it had been obvious the first time her eyes met it that it was anything but wood. Being a blend of onyx, shungite, white alabaster, rock crystal and lava from the inner core of Mother Gaia, swirled together in a spiral like pattern it was an extremely magic wand. The Dragon Wind Wand. One of the most powerful instruments to ever grace the Earth plane, even though no instrument had any true power without intent.

Disa had noticed how some of the birdseeds in her garden had sprung out. How they had managed to do that, outside in the cold, on the thick layer of snow and ice covering the ground, was mystery to behold. Unless it was due to the bright light coming in from the galactic suns during the short days. Magic light for magic sprouts? 

Nejla and Ricky’s sleds had come to a halt. They had travelled throughout the early morning. At 3 am they had packed up, moved on for a few hours underneath the Ursid meteor showers. Now at 6.30 am it was time for a nap before the bright red and golden sun dawned. 

A deep sigh from the dogs spread through the quiet air. What seemed like just as deep a sigh sounded out from the surrounding woods seconds later.

“Light is the first cause, and every second cause is its shadow”, Maddy the Mighty stretched out like only cats can.

‘What’s that?” Ricky turned and looked at the cat.

“Oh, just something this pretty connected guy Rumi I once knew very well used to say”. Maddy curled up.

“How old are you Maddy?” Nejla asked.

“Ancient. Not that it matters though”, Maddy replied opening one eye. “Let’s just keep what the dude Rumi said in mind once we wake up with the sun after this nap OK? You will see. Oh yes, you will see.”

“Did you know I was about to name the second lead dog Rumi?” Ricky turned towards Nejla. “But he insisted on being called Kabir instead”.

Nejla could not help laughing out loud. “I always thought it such a weird combination of names and energies  with Thor and Kabir in the lead, but Thor and Rumi surely would have been outrageously weird.”

Another sigh from The Crew and The Pack. Time to snooze.

Disa picked up The Dragon Wind Wand.

Cecilia Götherström, December 18th 2020

Elsa’s Song, Dec 13th 2021

Deep, deep breaths of fulfilled snow loving beings are moving across the floor space. Sleeping, snoozing, resting beings.

“There is a time for rest. There is a time for work. There is a time for play.” The words adorning the embroidered tapestry on the wall above the kitchen couch.

Nejla always felt so much more at home sitting on the ground. There she was, with the cauldron sitting on the floor in front of her. The sleeping four leggeds in a snoring circle surrounding them both.

Out there the sun had set already. It had barely touched the treetops of the high pines today. A few more days and it would be the darkest of the darkest days. Here up north though the dark was just the most magic time of them all. The black velvet serving as presentation platter for the glittering stardust of The Milky Way , of the dancing Aurora Borealis, of the glistening white snow reflecting sacred geometry codes back through the soul portals of every being .

Today was the thirteenth day of the twelfth month. The day of the Fairy Saint, The Queen of Light. This thirteenth day of the twelfth month felt different though. The energy was unlike any other year she could recall. A tangible dimensional shift. A reminder to put your spiritual practice and connection at the forefront of your priorities as the one thing left unbroken, uncompromised.

“Wings of change,” what seemed like the atmosphere spoke through the cauldron. “Winds of change”.

As the words sunk in,  a realization dawned on Nejla .

“We are so busy connecting in to, or copying, what once was that we forget to notice what is. What is here and now. The ceremonies and rituals are to connect in to the energy, not to times gone by as time is not linear. Through these ceremonies and rituals, we connect now, past and present in a holographic ever-present thread. The boundaries are broken. The veils are shattered. We look across and we see ourselves. In what we call past, present and future. But it is the energies that speak. Frequencies.”

“A-ho, my dear”, Storulven spoke. “Now, go sit. Journey. The door is open. The birds are aware. Go sit for 30 minutes, follow the red thread.”

Cecilia Götherström, December 13th 2021.

Elsa’s Song, Dec 12th 2021

Underneath the Christmas Lights, Underneath the Christmas Lights, Underneath the Christmas Lights”, Sia’s Christmas album streamed out of the speakers through Spotify. 

Nejla looked out through the guest bedroom window towards the large enclosed space especially built for the dogs at the back of Ricky and Luca’s home. 

Starlight was digging ferociously underneath the very Christmas Lights, or more specifically underneath the pine tree living in the corner of the enclosure which had been decorated with coloured Christmas lights. Her tail was fanning more than wagging, which was a sign of hunting. Nejla had better get out there and stop her before whoever was in deep winter sleep got woken up.

Grabbing her beanie with one hand, pulling her mushing boots on with the other, she simultaneously reached for the doorknob with her elbow which resulted in her tumbling out the door, rolling down the two steps of the porch, face planting in the snow. Well, at least she was wide awake now.

“Starlight, Starlight my dear. Come on! Stoooooooop!”

Starlight stopped, turned her head to look at her human. Two seconds later she turned back to the digging.

“Aaaaaaahhhh, huskies!” Nejla shouted as she ran through the knee deep snow.

As if they wanted to prove that this was not just a husky trait but also a samoyed and malamute talent, Kriya and Tuva ran from the other side of the yard joining Starlight in the digging.

All of a sudden they stopped, all three of them. Stepped back, looked down in the hole they’d dug, then across at Nejla who had stranded in a spot where the snow was all of a sudden waist deep to catch her breath, and then they looked back down in the hole again.

Nejla felt like she was swimming through the last part of the snow. It was just a dune of two metres width where the wind had piled up a solid wave of snow which was that deep before it was back to knee depth again. She arrived underneath the Christmas Lights Tree, threw herself on her knees, looking down in the hole together with the three canine ladies.

“Was that? No, she must be imagining? Could it be? Well it did. Did look like gold. But, no, it can’t be?”

Starlight pushed towards the hole with her nose, looking at Nejla, her eyes saying “look, look, look what I got you!”

Nejla reached down under the pine tree twigs, down towards the exposed part of the trunk, her lovika mitten clad hands spread out, gently grabbing and pulling the artifact out of the snow. As she held it up towards the dwindling light of the afternoon sky all three ladies of The Crew watched eagerly.  Nejla gently blew the last pieces of soft snow off the edges. A cauldron. A golden cauldron.

Cecilia Götherström, December 12th 2021. 

Elsa’s Song, Dec 11th 2021

“What forces were at work here?

White Light, White Wizards, White Dragons, White Wolves? The light was so bright there was no darkness to be seen. That did however not mean there was no shadow. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow. Without contrasts there would be nothing to perceive in the centre. 

Laws of Nature. The term had been coined by biologists, scientists, far removed from nature in their mind, close in heart, connections blocked by overactive frontal lobes.

Prakriti, another word for Nature. Another understanding. Ancient one. 

Laws of The Cosmos. 

Oneness.”

Nejla sat with The Crew in Ricky’s and Luca’s garden after the morning sledding, having one of her inner conversations with Storulven. Even though the days were shorter and darker this far north during this time of year the light from the sun and the reflection back from the earth was extremely intense.

Close to six months ago the light had been close to this intense for some time, just after the summer solstice. The shadows had fallen differently, the green on the trees had had a different shade. The light had even made people crossing a zebra crossing seem etheric, close to see-through, which felt pretty scary as you approached in your car.

“All of these “laws” have the same origin.”, Storulven’s voice and presence spoke.

“Oneness. The centre point. Venture further in one of the directions and you feel just a little more distant from it. Venture further and you feel further distant. The thing is though that these connections and combinations are countless – picture a Metatron’s cube, all the intersections and connections are roads to pods of sister and brotherhoods, which in turn all are inter-braided with the roads to the centre point.

You can travel this map with any vibration. You can discover, circle, search, find, feel lost, be found and never, ever do you lose the connection.

“In the beginning was the Word”. Creation was spoken in to being. Sung in to being. Every song, every stanza, every sutra, every word you speak is creation, is creating. How you receive words, songs, light, all vibrations, is creation too.

So, you chose which forces you want to create with. No matter what forces you might perceive being at work here, you choose. You call in the forces you resonate with.

See, all these words – resonance, vibration, sound, echo, light…. I can go on. Same source. From the book of instructions on how to connect in to the centre point. The space. The void. You might travel to the Akashic Records to read the book. You might unlock your heart to read the book. Or, you might become The Adventurer and become The Instruction.”

Cecilia Götherström, December 11th 2021  

Elsa’s Song, Dec 7th 2021

“Can we travel through time with our questions? Is love alive? How many “out there” questions can you have lingering in your head in the space between waking and sleeping? Love can definitely travel through time though. I just know it.”

Watering eyes are glancing out across the landscape. Scarf masking mouth and nose, keeping the blizzard out. Beanie pulled tightly over eyebrows and ears. Nejla has been walking for what feels like hours but it can’t be more than fifteen minutes.

The train had stopped in the middle of the night. A huge tree, an ancient oak, had fallen across the tracks taking part of the overhead line with it as it went down, the conductor had reported over the intercom. The train could not get any further until the tracks were cleared and the overhead lines repaired.

Fortunately Nejla had booked a sleeping carriage for herself, Kriya, Tuva and Starlight.  It was some sight for the passengers boarding the train at the later stations as they passed through the narrow corridors on the way to their carriages. There, in coach  28 D, E, F & G, a woman reading in the top bunk, a husky, a malamute and a samoyed sprawled out on the two lower bunks.

The blizzard moved in less than an hour after the announcement, making it impossible for the railway repair crew to climb the poles to fix the overhead lines until the storm had died down.

The passengers were kept warm with nutmeg spiced gluhwein, steaming hot soup, extra blankets and hot water bottles. Saved by the fact that the kitchen on the train still ran its stove on gas.

Seven hours in to the wait, the dogs really needed to get out. For some reason Nejla had decided to strap on both her own as well as Kriya and Tuva’s backpacks. Starlight was a little too slender for those dogpacks so she’d gotten a smaller one. The only one available in the store that day was a glittery version, originally made for “glamorous poodles’ and not for huskies. But hey, her name was Starlight, so why not!

They stepped out of the train, Nejla planning to follow the tracks ahead, past the fallen tree and check  what the situation was. 

The same insight had guided her to attach the dogs harnesses to each other with the longer skijöring lines as well as attach two of them to her own skijörning harness.

Lumps of ice are beginning  to form on her eyelashes.

Cecilia Götherström, December 7th 2021  

Elsa’s Song, Dec 1st 2021

“When the full moon dances in its own light. When its shadow pulls the breath of slivering starlight. When the omens and the 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 speaks to you my child.”

The voice meanders through the dark morning like a hymn.  Dawn is approaching, yet it is not here.

The moment before dawn. The moment before birth.

The dark. The void. The nothingness.

The sense of being held in Nothing-ness, in Everything-ness. The space we have been taught to fear, but which is the most loving, enveloping space. The space where we can hear. Where we can listen. Where we can see through the eyes of our own inner light. 

I roll over in bed, ready to put my feet on the ground, placing them on the warm, fuzzy blanket. 

The entire bedroom floor is covered with blankets held in place by sticky yoga mats underneath.

She’s old, you see. Her paws sprawl out to the sides sometimes. Her grip on artificial surfaces has let go. Her grip in moss, mud, earth, soil and sand has strengthened.

As the dust of dawn foxtrots gently through the tightly pulled blinds, touching the floor, reflecting off her fur, I see her. Curled up. Her white furry legs crossed. Jaws totally relaxed, breathing, snoozing. Head resting gently on the edge of her orthopaedic bed.

Peace. Magic. Love. Stardust. Gentleness. Listening. Kindness. Holiness. All. Breathing in. Breathing out.

As I open the faucet to splash my hands and face in ice cold water, it drizzles like gemstones landing in the sink. The light is as if from another dimension.  Rich, gentle, blessed. This water. A gift.

 Day one. Every morning anew. A promise. A vow. A vow of presence.

I will give myself to the story being birthed in each breath. The one story springing forth from the song. The song of creation.

“Listen. Listen to the moon. Listen to the stone. Listen to the song. This is Elsa’s Song.”

She on the other side of the veil embrace us both in her magic stride of sacred fierceness. Blessing us.

“We are all blessings”. Elsa’s song begins.

December 1st 2021, Cecilia Götherström