cecilia gotherstrom

by

Transmissions of Starlight / 4

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.

Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022

by

Transmissons of Starlight / 3

She is here. Winter.
Glimmer in her eyes.
Joy in her soul.
Soulfulness.
Glowing breath, sparkle of life.
Winter.
Welcome.

The Star abides in the sky.
The sky in the heart.
The heart is the sky.
The sky is the heart.
The Star its All.

The Silver Grail speaks. Like clear crystal waters.
No bearing.
No beginning.
No end.
Only the eternal Now. This moment where everything matters. Where everything is present. In the no-thing.

Nothing can be broken. Everything is whole. The outer shells can shatter, can leak. The pieces might break in to more pieces. Yet they do not exist. They are fragments of a self which spoke itself in to existence. On the first day of winter.

Let the pieces disperse. Do not gather them. Let the wind blow, let it sweep. Do not hold on to. Open up. Sit. See. Wait.
Let the silence speak, whisper. Listen.

Transmissions of Starlight.

Know your worth.





Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022

by

Transmissions of Starlight / 2

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
by

Transmissions of Starlight / 1

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”.

Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022

by

How to love someone

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
by

Elsa, my Elsa

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
If I am really honest in my heart of hearts
by

If I am really honest in my heart of hearts

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
by

Elsa’s Song, Dec 21st 2021

“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.

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 21st 2021  

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Elsa’s Song, Dec 20th 2021

Everything seemed slower, almost stuck. 

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?

Cecilia Götherström, December 20th 2021 

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Elsa’s Song, Dec 19th 2021

Elsa opens her book of magic. The pages of the book allowing her to follow it all simultaneously.

Her humans love connecting them all through the threads of gold.

Disa and the Wind Dragons moving north.

Nejla, Ricky, Starlight, Tuva, Kriya, Maddy, Thor, Kabir, Storm and Wolfie leaving their sleep as the Fire Dragons carry the light of the morning sun their way, tickling their eyes. It will be time for them to move further north in a short while.

Alabaster leaving the valley behind, heading north, back to the upper ranges.

Isa, the spark of Isness, residing in all places at once, her light the strongest in the North disguised as the North Star.

Starlight, perching at the opening of the Northern Cave. The Queen of Snowleopards watching the storm clouds coming in as the rest of her pack move further inside the cave.

Watching them all moving, Elsa paints a picture, sending a message through to Nejla.

“You will need to be the one changing your energetic signature. Taking charge of it. Only you. Remember as well, you might want to begin by noticing how you move through space. What you leave in your backwaters. What is emanating out through your backwaters. How you meet the current in front. Intent is your strongest key.”

Elsa takes a deep breath, continues. “The resonance you leave behind becomes your energetic signature in that space in time in that moment. And we all know now that time is a spiral. Which is why you can travel back – or forwards – to places, spaces, dimensions and times to change the energetic signature you deposited there as well as intend – aka  program – the energetic signature of what you want to call in.”

“See! That’s what I told you!” Nejla hears Isa’s voice dancing in the skies. “Magic is a choice!”

Elsa closes the book. She knows she can always play the music, her song, on the heartstrings with or without the book. She just likes opening it up once in a full moon to have a physical overview.

Alabaster hears a gentle song, philligraphing its way up through the crevasses of the upper ranges glacier. “Elsa’s song!” His heart skips a beat. His paws feel younger. He moondances his way the last kilometre towards his packs resting grounds. Being welcomed by their glimmering eyes in the winter night.

“Elsa is singing!”, one of the pups is jumping with excitement, placing himself in between Alabasters front paws. “It’s Elsa’s Song, dad! Elsa’s Song!”

Cecilia Götherström, 19 December 2021.