cecilia gotherstrom

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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 The only one available in the store that day was a glittery version, originally made for “glamorous poodles’ and not for huskies.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  

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Elsa’s Song, Dec 6th 2021

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.

Cecilia Götherström, December 6th 2021  

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Elsa’s Song, Dec 5th 2021

A tiny yellow leaf fell on to her hand. 

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.

Cecilia Götherström, December 5th 2021  

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Elsa’s Song,  Dec 4th 2021

I see the wilderness in your eyes.

Those yellow-brown soul portals watching me closely through your thick, white eyelashes.

A communication which cannot be misunderstood.

The wilderness is not savage. It is the one true connection. You might actually call it The One True Love.
What I see in you is what I am, what you are, what we all are. Together.

Wilderness.

Lost touch with our own innate wilderness, many of us have. Feeling lost not because comfort is missing, but because the direct contact with the elements have gone astray. 


Cold cheeks in winter, warm feet in summer, inhaling humid earth scent in spring, walking among crisp colours in autumn.

“Your serenades in the heart are the roadmap.You love the cold. Embrace that.” Elsa speaks to me.” 

“Uncover! Uncover! Uncover! Be!”“ may very well be followed by “Embrace! Embrace! Embrace! Be!” “ she continues.

As always, she is right. Even though there is no wrong or right. 

Asking her, she nods. She tells me to stop using those two words. She is shaking the box of words, letting many fall out through holes in the bottom, allowing space for new words to tumble in from the magic energy of this season.

“Alignment”, she says. “Choose “alignment” as your word. Then “right” and “wrong” have no charge anymore.”

Alignment.

Uncover! Uncover! Uncover! Be!
Embrace! Embrace! Embrace! Align!

Here, there and everywhere.



Cecilia Götherström, Dec 4th 2021

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Elsa’s Song, Dec 3rd 2021

“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.”

“Of course”, Nejla smiled. “Of course”…

Cecilia Götherström, December 3rd 2021

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Elsa’s Song, Dec 2nd 2021

“ In a gentle way you can shake the world”

– Mahatma Gandhi

The darkness of the winter morning holds a cocoon. Nejla embraces the coolness of the bedroom air mixed with the warm welcoming of her worn out snowboard-socks.

Minutes later, cup of warm team with milk and honey in hand, her mother’s knitted scarf wrapped around her waist and another one around her shoulders, she is in the garden. Inhaling the new day. It is ceremony time.

The morning star is not alone in the sky this time of the year. You could say there’s a family, even a tribe of a truly interconnected web of morning stars. One shining brighter than the next, yet noone stealing the light from the other. Every single light source enhancing each other. Every breath a pulsation of light against the soft darkness of the multiverse.

“There are stars which are no stars, and there are skies which are no skies. There are no terms and conditions on creation. Just because we have named something from our perspective, looking in one direction, does not mean that is the way it is.”, Nejla spoke, pondering, to the winter air.

“What would it take to be a sadhu?” Nejla thought to herself. “What would it take to be a choice. A choice to just experience the here and now? To stop, to stay, to watch through the veils. Noticing that sometimes they are sturdy blinds and other times the velis dissipate in front of your eyes as you observe them? To be someone not going anywhere physically and ambitionally all the time, but expanding from within?”

“It would only take that. A choice. The choice. You see, magic is a choice too.” 

The voice seemed to come from the winter breeze. In the shifting light of the morning sun approaching from the east and the dense snow clouds moving in from the north a little sparkle started to manifest right in front of her eyes.

December 2nd 2021, Cecilia Götherström

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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

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Snoozing, snoring blessing

Snoozing, snoring blessing.
On a pile of blankets
in the corner.
Sweetness sleeping.

Curled up
like in a den.

Comfort in heart.
Comfort in soul.
Even through loss
she has found some type of peace.
Being herself.

No compromise.

Only fullness.
Only love.
Only stamina.
Only Elsa.

- Cecilia Götherström, Jan 8th 2021
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 21. Dec 21st.

Dawn.

One star.

Half moon.

Samantha was standing at the ridge of the space which lead in to what the Everything the wolf called Nothingness. He said it was a mirror of himself. That only through Nothing can you find Everything. That only Everything can be Nothing. And Nothing be Everything.

She held her golden dragon magic knitted Listeners gloves clad palms open to the sky. Listened through her palms to the Mountains of Stillness and Silence. To their song.

Vayu, her HeartKingdom Sameness SoulStar, stood next to her, his grey and white winter fur grown really thick. He was no wolf pup any more. He was a wolf teen.

“You said you would write songs if you really listened with all filters gone”, his wolfness spoke. “Off you go my dear, what magic spell would release your first song in to this void of Allness, Nothingness and Everythingness?”

She looked with loving eyes at the wolf. This bundle of joy, wisdom and power. She turned around. Marcus, Grey and Storulven joined her there at the ridge. Barry did the same.

There they were, two humans, three wolves, one polar bear, facing the void of the Dawn. 

Flanked on both sides and behind by the entire pack. Everything placed a little step in front of the rest of them.

Josephiel took to the skies. Mama D waited. Said it was not her time to adorn the skies with her dragoness yet, that Josephiel was to float the first tune.

It sounded like a mix of happy violins, bagpipes, wolf howls and the singing of the Northern Lights. The wind whistled. The snow furled around them. In a dance.

Looking up Samantha saw The Great Bear. It seemed to nod at Barry, who let out a “top of the morning old pal”, as he nodded back to his star ancestor.

A single white feather danced through space, landed in front of Marcus. 

Samantha inhaled.

“Feather white,

Feather bright,

Share with me,

Your Sacred Light”.

A light show began on the heavens. A dance of glitter, of colours, against the velvety sky mixed with the glow of the dawning sunlight. All intermingled, intermixed, intertwined.

A song never heard before came out of the two mountain tops, one granite with deep, soothing, grounding, homefeeling tunes. One moonstone with soft, enticing, heartlightning, sacredly wrapped jewelclad tunes. Together they mixed. Like Shiva and Shakti. Like Yin and Yang. Like Creator and Creation.

“Sssssssshhhhhhhhh……shhhhhhhhh……shhhhhhhhhh”

The sound of whispers in the void, in the skies, in the space surrounding them all.

“Listen. Listen well.” Vayu said. “The dreams are arriving. The dreams are speaking. Listen. Listen. Listen. All will be revealed.”

“How can all be revealed if we don´t have all seven instructions yet?” Marcus wondered.

“You do, my child”, Mama D took to the skies, filled it up with her gorgeous silverwhitegrey dragon energy. “You all do. You unlocked them on your way here. Storulven, shall we?”

The large white wolf stepped forward, placed himself in the center of all of them.

“My dear Lightwarriors. My dear strong pack. We are on our journey to find the eternal pieces. We are very close. We all need to take our personal responsibility for our path, and we all need to walk in connection with each other at the same time. The instructions on how to get there, as these dreams are arriving to embrace us, we may now practice from this day forward. All seven. Vayu?”

Vayu The Wind Whispering Wolf sang in to the Stillness, in to all their hearts;

“The Seven Sacred Secret Instructions are calling us, one after the other, here they are, like a string of pearls, like a string of bright shining Stars;

Concious Dawn.

Life inside Life.

Sacred Listening.

Choose that heart of yours.

Let your journey find you.

Find your Star where she resides.

Sacred Fierceness. “

The lightshow sacred geometry hologram in the sky had ended. A bright light shone. On large, bright

Star.

The Beginning.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 21st 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 20. Dec 20th.

“Stars shining right above you. Night breezes seem to whisper “I love you”. Birds singing in the full of pine needles tree. Dream a little dream of me, humptidumptidumtidum…..”

Barry was singing his way ascending the last piece of the slope ending at the plateau between the two mountain peaks.

“Not sure those are the true lyrics”, Marcus commented. “Think it should be a sycamore tree”.

“Come on! You can’t expect a polar bear to have any clue about what a sycamore tree is!” Barry shook his large head at Marcus.

The wind picked up. It came out of nowhere. All of a sudden there was a huge whirlwind of feathers, large and small, silvery, white, grey, golden, being blown around in a ferocious dance. 

Storulven and Grey signalled the whole pack to a halt.

“The Whispers don’t take the singing jokes lightly today”, Grey spoke. “Usually The Whispers have the greatest sense of humour as they are totally egoless. It is just that right now we are really in The Stillness and Silence territory and here singing has the greatest of magnanimous purposes”.

“What is he talking about?”, Marcus asked the wolf next to him. A gangly little red and white male called Everything.

“Dreams”, Everything replied. “You see we are all made of dreams, sung in to existence by The Whispers”.

Storulven continued;

“Vayu The Wind Whispering Wolf is waiting for us. He’s the keeper of Dreams. The everlasting pieces. His time is now. So is all of ours. Right now. We are here to sing all that Sacred Fierceness in to existence. First the dreams need to be dreamed. I believe Samantha and Josephiel begun the knitting of that some days ago. We all will put our own spice in the mix. Josephiel The Cloud Shrouding Dragon and Snow will filligraphically project them through the sacred geometry in the skies between the two peaks of Moonstone and Granite. Then The Whispers will speak. No clue what they will say. What they will sing. We will be the chorus. We will all Be.”

“Let’s get inside the woods before we are blown off the slope by all these feathers”, Grey turned his head to point in his wolfy way towards the thin line of pine trees between them and the open glen behind.

“Star Seeker, Star Seeker, find your Star, find your Light. Star Seeker, Star Seeker find your Light, find your Star.” 

Was that the feather-filled wind singing Marcus wondered?

“Star Seeker, Star Seeker, feet on the Earth, Heart in The Heavens, Star Seeker, find your Star where she resides”.

Yes, the wind was singing.

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 20th 2020.