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.
Like a mild summer
rain,
a waterfall of
love,
drizzling down my cheeks
Your absence and
your presence
touch me every
morning
Alone in the heart,
immersed in the everything-
ness of your being
You are there,
I am here
Yet we are
everywhere
- Cecilia Götherström, July 7th 2022
The cold, cold mist touched Nejla’s face as she began her morning ceremony. The grass was still wet, the mist felt cleansing. It was nevertheless still too warm. For snow she would have to travel north. To the land of White Buffalo.
It was time to prepare.
He sensed her weaving in the morning shadows. The first threshold she would need to cross was to be-come The Adventurer.
She and The Adventurer were TwinSouls. One soul shared in two Be-ings. Through the mirror portals of others she could see sparks of The Adventurer as she saw flickers of herself. She would need to embody the knowledge that speaks. In every thought, movement and breath. Be-come.
Nejla was ready. She felt nervous, yet she had never felt more ready in her whole life. There was so much clarity in this morning mist. Clarity which last night had started to show its silhouette. It had just been a matter of letting go through Dreamland during the night.
“To sleep on it”, very valuable advice from her grandfather. “To let the night chew and churn away, like the cows alchemizing the grass in to milk”, was how grandpa used to explain it.
That first morning breath held a promise. It whispered “Sacred Fierceness”. She felt the pull of The Adventurer inside her whole Be-ing. All dimensions, all these writings, these tidings were coming together as one.
As she had tiptoed down the stairs on her way for the morning ceremony, noticing the keys in the front door, she had heard a voice saying “I gave you that. All the keys. Now, use them!”
He made his way up the last part of the hill alone. The pups were still sleeping. Mums, dads, brothers and sisters would be waking up gently as soon as the first ray of morning sun touched the Silver Rock. This was to be a journey through the seen and the unseen for her. He wanted to connect his inner eyes to hers.
There it was. The spot where he could peak over the ridge in to the next valley. The valley where what once was a small village had slowly spread out to become a town, now bordering on the definition of city.
A sliver of starlight fell on the rock, reflecting back in to his eyes.
Nejla felt something gently touch her forehead, like a kiss of rain. It felt warm and sparkly.
Isa had taken off this morning on what she called “sparkly business”, leaving Nejla in the garden pondering her next step.
With all this Be-ing and Isness one still seemed to have a problem with sitting still, she had told Isa.
Isa had explained that Be-ing and Is-ness have nothing to do with not acting, not moving. It’s about moving through what seems like days and nights and months and seasons and all that, not attached to what it brings or removes. Just doing your thing while Be-ing aware of the Isness. Then the hidden palaces will rise. Shangri-La, or Shambhala, will be un-veiled. Uncovered.
The little yellow leaf had holes. Worn by the changing seasons, by visting insects. It was truly doing its thing as it fell in to Nejla’s hand. Letting go, falling, transforming.
So much to uncover, so much to embrace… Where to start?
How Nejla missed The Adventurer. And the dragons. When would they return? Or would she have to leave in search of them?
How about taking just one step, one action, instead of thinking?
Nejla sat the leaf down on the grass. Looking up she felt sure it would snow this evening. The air had a certain density and height to it. The clouds muddled together.
Somewhere he felt her in his heart. Moving like a searchlight. Descending. Ascending. Like she was walking up and down mountains, valleys, ravines, through woods and farmlands, along lakes and rivers.
He knew this time would be a different level. Another threshold needing to be crossed.
Why couldn’t the humans just keep walking? Why did they have to get “comfortable” or whatever they called it, fall asleep and shut down completely? Why could they just not realize that the only constant really is change and that is what you need to move with? Sometimes more, sometimes less. Our Mother Earth and Father Sky are the eternal parents, guiding us through all. Including the humans.
Long forgotten seem the ways of the new. “The new” who arrived from different star-systems, like comets hitting Earth, sparkling down all over the place. Making the humans more human. Whatever that was supposed to be.
“Love thy neighbour like thyself”. Well, thy neighbour is the freaking galaxy, and that part of loving thy self seems to be more difficult than winning a Nobel price.
“There’s a tree in my house and voice in my heart. They are speaking to each other. They speak of times past, of way beyond time and space, and they speak of Here.
Why is it that we try so hard to belong, when that is what we do in the first place? Belong. Like a play of words. Be. And Long. Long to Be. Belong. Is it just a matter of Be? I will try. No, I will do! I will give all my might to Be! “.
“Hmmmmmmmmmm…. Not sure that is the right way to go about it”, the spark which had arrived in the morning dust twirled close to Nejla’s shoulder. “You know, giving something all your might is do-ing, which sure ain’t Be-ing.”
Nejla chuckled as she sighed. There she was. Caught again in the act of making too big a deal of something which was already in place. What was it Storulven had taught her again?
“Uncover, uncover, uncover…”, he had sung like a mantra every time she’d gone in to what he called her “dragging mode”.
“Oh, that’s a good one! Every time I feel the dragging mode towing me here or there, which longing or Be-longing are parts of, I just say “uncover, uncover, uncover” to figure out what is really there!”
“You’re getting closer little star”, the dancing spark whistled. “How about a spell?”
“A spell?” Najla looked puzzeled.
“Uncover! Uncover! Uncover! Be!”The spark pirouetted so fast across the living room floor from the energy of the words that she took off and had to one-eighty her way back.
Nejla sensed Storulven’s presence. An etheric nod of approval. She laughed.
“I love it! Uncover! Uncover! Uncover! Be!”
“Wooow, human heart.” The spark came to a halt. “That went pretty fast. Now you may know my name. I am known as Isa. From the kingdom of Isness. Which, of course, is situated here, there and everywhere once your eyes are opened and you speak to trees.”
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 