Photo: Pintrest
Nothing to gain,– SheDragon
nothing to lose,
yet choose you still
must do
Silently or
loudly
whatever
you pick
just be aware
of the power
of choice
To be connected,
to disconnect,
switch on,
switch off
all is possible
by
the power of choice
Author: Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinyazi
Photo: Devianart.com/Pintrest
Space and Earth, Earth and Space.
“There is nothing to figure out, it is all in the heart”. Wasn’t that what she’d said, how it had all begun this time around?
What if it feels like you cannot access the heart? If you cannot find the thread? If it feels like the rupture has slowly immersed itself into total discord? How do you get there then?
“There’s nowhere to get to, my child. Its all right here. I know it might be challenging to see it, but here we are again, here is that word again – “seeing”. Choose to see the heart. Be curious. If it feels like you cannot see, pretend. Be open to playing around with perspectives. Look from above, from below, from all sides and directions you can imagine and then some more. Summon your creativity to make up something new every day. One thing. Just one, over the top crazy, thing. The freedom you connect to then can only lead you back to one place, the heart.”
Alba is looking me straight in the eyes. Putting her hands on my shoulders, gripping firmly. Portals! I see portals in her eyes!
“Those portals are not in my eyes, dear child. They are in yours. Every time you look at something, see something, it is a portal. Which portals are you walking through, which are you not? Listen to the portals. With your heart.”
Is that what it means that everything is a reflection, a mirror?
“It´s more than that. It´s a mirror maze. So, now you tell mee child. What is mirroring itself? Who sees it? Summon your creativity”!
11-1-11-12.
A code flashing through my mind.
Author: Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinyazi
Photo:Pintrest
The door creaks open. Just a sliver of light touching the ancient wooden floor. On the other side of the threshold the wood meets soft granite stones. Rough surfaces which have been polished by the clatter o feet and paws for centuries, shaping the gentleness of these cold stones in to being.
A shadow, a shape taking form , filling the fragment of morning sun which was just there. Gentle paws touching the squeaky old floor. Alba sits up, throw her legs over the side of the bed while reaching for her wollen socks usually placed right next to the bed with one hand.
“It’s time to wake up for real my dear”, the shadowshapeds voice stir the morning silence. Not even the birds are awake yet.
There they are, the socks. OK. Now, what did she say? What did that dear old little puppy say? “Wake up for real?”
“I am awake”, Alba hear herself say in quite a defensive way, which she immediately blame the early hours for.
“You’re funny”, the wolf chuckles. “As if you have ever been awake for real any longer than three exhales”.
“Crazy, funny, wise always-right soul-companion you are”, Alba shakes her head as she agrees. “Let’s go meet this new day Rosie! I have a feeling it is waiting for us already.”
“As long as you are awake, let us do just that”, the wolf winks.
Author: Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinyazi
Your paws are fully grown.
You are everything
and nothing
like your sisters
at all.
What seems to me
like a moment
on the road
to somewhere
is for you
an
eternity of ever newness
in one long moment
which never passes.
Her soulfulness and joyful presence always pushes right in to my being. I do not know how to not live with her. Where she ends and I begin has dissolved.
Maybe there was never a boundary in the first place.
That little fierce puppiness which shook me awake, took hold of not just socks and toilet paper rolls but of lives, of relationships, of the senses where the inner beings meet. That.
“When you focus on separateness, that is what you get”, she says with all her being. “When you listen to the play of movement, that is what you live with”.
“The agenda might be full, but the heart cup is being filled through other means. When you put that one on top of the list watch what happens. Listen inwards. Then observe.”
The guidance from within seems to overflow as we are entering this time of guided light. Enveloped by the dark wintery skies, displaying its dance of Aurora Borealis more and more often, the Star in the Heart sparkling ever brighter, as the milky way pathway lights up, Orion, Ursa Major and many more pulsate with their brightness. This is how we enter in to the arms of the one Mother, the one Father, being held.
December.
December paws. Touching snow. Touching a promise.
Touch.
Touching the infinite being.
Through the heart.
“How do you touch through the heart?”, I hear a giggling whisper. “That is the practice. That is the exploration”.
Author: Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinyazi
“Everyone heals in their own way. How you heal is up to you. Up to you to find, to feel, to sense, to belong to. Yes, to belong to. There is nothing to figure out, it is all in the heart, in the Earth, held by the sky and Space. That which you belong to. That which is also your healing.”
She changed her seat. Got up. Twirled the thread between her fingers. Spun it around her hands.
“The gift of healing is the gift of seeing”, she continued. Her eyes were wide and warm. Her breath travelled far in the cold air filling the cottage.
“Magic is a choice. Seeing is choice. Living is a choice. What you choose is what you see. The more often you consciously choose, seeing itself chooses you. Just don’t ponder too much on that last part. Go out and choose!”
She swung her arms open towards the door, motioning me to get ready to leave.
“Remember, there is no horizon. Remember, the horizon is the horizon”
Author: Cecilia Götherström, Pejuta Wakinyazi
13 candles. 14 winds. 15 heartbeats.
A small candle is still a candle.
Trinity stood knee-deep in the freshly fallen snow underneath the winter sky. Her journey south had come to a halt three days earlier. It had taken her some time, quite some exhaustion and elaborate thinking until she had realized that this is it. Presence. If you cannot physically go, you stay.
13 candles encircled her, 14 winds started dancing around her, the drums were beating to the rhythm of 15 heartbeats.
“You cannot be who you are not. You cannot sing someone else’s song. It’s too expensive. You do pay for it. In soul-sparkles. And your soul-sparkles are low. You are in dire need of some repair and re-fill. You are in dire need of Star-light.”
Trinity looked up. This sky was a little different from the one she had looked up at only moments before.
“Where you are now is your ground zero. Where it all begins. Just let it begin”, the grandmotherly voice kept sharing.
“Don’t look for home. Your home is with me. I am Starlight. I am. 13 candles will light the way. 14 winds will speak your name. 15 heartbeats is the only distance from here to Love, from here to Sparkle, from here to Power, Stillness and Presence. 13, 14, 15 is your code to the next key-lock my dear. Welcome. Welcome.”
A strange kind of peace rolled over her. It was time to take centre stage in her own life, in her own story.
The Northern Lights swooshed above. Confirmed.
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
Amethyst and wizards tones. A little bit more of the link to the moon and the scent of tender winter eve. A piece of mesmerized rock crystal. Along with a sprinkle of Starlight.
OK, that’s it, that should be all she needed.
Trinity was packing.
A bundle for the journey ahead.
The bell rang. Who is it this time of the morning? What could they possibly want? The last thing she needed was some nosy neighbour or uninvited family member interfering with her peace. A peace she had not felt for a long, long time. A peace she thought had left for good.
There the bell rang again. Or did it really ring? It was more like the sound of a distant gong. She went to the front door, opened it up gently, peaked outside. No sun yet, just a starry sky, a waning moon at the horizon and a still quiet.
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh….. the sound of something dragging in the snow.
Her infinity bracelet dropped off her wrist, fell deep into the snow. She bent down to pick it up and as she looked up a white rabbit was sitting in the opening where the gate had once been. It looked her right in the eyes, swooshed towards her, touched its nose to hers, turned around and swooshed off in to the distance.
Trinity stood up. What had just happened?
Her hands were freezing cold after digging for the bracelet in the snow, she needed to get in and warm them up. As she passed the mirror in the hallway she noticed that the tip of her nose seemed covered in silver sparkles. She stopped. Went back to take a closer look and realized her eyelashes and the top of her ears were covered in the same silver dust. As she touched the tip of her nose, the top of her ears and blinked she couldn’t feel anything different, no material or substance other than nose, eyelashes and ears. Yet the silver sparkle dust was there.
She had to get going. Her schedule was very clear. The Night Owl had told her to leave at exactly 06:06 , heading 22,2 degrees south. She had 2 more minutes to go.
Compass in hand, she locked the door behind her. Was this the last time?
The direction given seemed to followed the swooshsteps of the hare.
“Out there, out there! Get out there!”, a white feathered owl hohooed above her head as she headed through the opening of the gate that once was.
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
Golden feathers, grey and warm. Dust falling off old souls and ashbins. She, The One Queen from the other side of the veil. The brown-eyed, sacred fierce one, white and grey. She massed about the keys, the LightSisters, the Sacred Fierceness. Could it be that the LightSisters are the keys? That Sacred Fierceness is the embodiment? Trinity noticed the candle burning faster than time could possibly be moving, while the snow fell backwards outside. “It’s all just perspectives, experiences. You decide what importance, what priority, what charge you dedicate to these. That is free will my dear. The one popes and men in hats tried to shove down our throats embedded in damp and stinky old parchments instead of letting us sing it out loudly”, The Gentle One with the Burning Heart spoke through the veil. The two sisters sat there together. Watching Trinity. In an instant Trinity realized she was not to walk in their footsteps. She was to allow their essence, knowing, wit, power, peace, bravery, love, fierceness, wholeness, gentleness, kindness, holiness, passion and full presence to walk in her every footstep. Creating her own footsteps. “In those keys you also find all your knowing. We embodied them and now we lead you in turning the very same keys. Opening and closing. Closing and opening. Being aware of what is opening and closing, closing and opening. Consciously choosing what to open and what to close comes next, by its own accord. You can’t be conscious about being conscious before you are conscious about being conscious so to say”, The Gentle One smiled in that way only someone with a true GrandMother heart could. “We have not gone anywhere. We are here. Right here. Nowhere else. Here. Always. Call on us, sing our names, dance our being. Those are the moves which make the strings on the lyre of life, a.k.a magic, resonate. Resonate and create. No more vibration as a reaction, so called backwater reaction resonance. Let your creation have a harmonious backwater resonance. Be you.” “Moon and Star. Star and Moon. Moonlight. Dreams and dances. That is why I am here. That is why I keep nipping at your hands. I want them to weave, play, knit and orchestrate. Orchestrate Harmony”, The Young One looked at Trinity with the eyes of ancient wit. Starlight. Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
Two’s a company. Three’s a crowd.
Trinity.
Trinity’s a union.
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.”
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
Photo art : Julia Talanova https://www.instagram.com/knesart/
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
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 