Photo: Pintrest
Rest,
she said
The time
is now
is
here
Curl up
rest
release
stay
Silent
stay
free
stay
Release
Fear
can only last
where
stagnancy
lives
Stay
mobile
in silence
in rest
in peace
Curl up
unfurl
release
Forsake
the
musts
the
shoulds
the
havetos
Stay
stop
rest
Mobile
in
silence
Receive
magic
Receive
clearance
Receive
peace
Receive
Mahakash
Author : Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinyazi
Photo: Pintrest/Samsung
“So many cues, yet it seems you don’t know how to start. Pretty silly actually as how you start is not important. Nothing could matter less. The only thing that matters is that you start”, she says in her matter of fact way, Do-ris the deer
“It is important to experience joy”, the radio speaks in between.
“And now you jump in to fear and pressure, realizing that no, you probably have not allowed yourself to experience joy the past months, you have filled it all up with the so called important things and joy was not on that list. The only thing you feel now is that you are not even living up to allowing yourself to feel joy. Down in the basement the elevator goes. Oh, was it already in the basement? Hmmmmm…. can it maybe move sideways down there? Bog itself deeper in the mud of pressure and anxiety? No? Not possible? Well, that’s at least awesome!”
Up head the ravens and crows are having their usual dusk discussions. Who is sitting where, in what tree, why, why not, goodnight and all that.
Do-ris is looking out at me from across the snow filled glen.
“Let your wings unfold, shake them, let them drop around you like a cape filled with the warm holding of all the angelic light beings surrounding you. The entire choir of Sacred Fierceness. It is time to see that only darkness can hold the light, the stars in the sky. And the closer to the light, the lighter the darkness. The darker the darkness, the more intense the light.”
I stand up, reach my arms out and up, swirl, turn, bow.
“Angel wings of open fire. Fill me with my heart’s desire. Numbness leaves this heart of mine. Song of Joy, thy will be done.”
Snowflakes.
Author: Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinyazi
“Onyx. Onyx is missing. Or not really missing. It is there, the volume just needs to be turned up a bit. Then a bit more. Then maybe a bit more again. Like toning down the rose quartz for now, just making space for some more onyx you know.” Barry’s words – or instructions – travelled in through the wide open front door.
Marcus had been sitting at the grand piano since 5 am. Playing one piece of the symphony over and over again. Something was missing since the second movement, he just could not put his spirit on it.
“Onyx?” Marcus asked.
Barry was really too large to be in the house. He had placed himself outdoors, in front of the porch – had he been on the porch it surely would break from his weight – , having Marcus leaving the door open so that they could have a “clear, straight channel” as they both called it. It was vital that the connection was a straight, wide line.
Like a bridge.
Again.
“Yes, Onyx. The colour of darkness. Of pitch black. Of all possibilities possible”, Barry replied.
“Or the colour of death…”, Marcus thought to himself.
“I heard that!”, Barry said. “Isn’t death also a moment, an opening, of all possibilities? You know, some of my friends, the cormorants, say that “humans are so afraid of death that it prevents them from living”. Turn that volume up eh, so that you can really listen to it!”
“Listen to what?”, Marcus noticed a slight irritation in his own voice. “Listen to death? To darkness?”
“A little bit more to the left my dear Marcus. Listen to the emotion attached to those words .”
“Give in to fear?”, Marcus felt perplexed.
“It is not a fight Marcus. It is not about winning, about staying on top of or about giving in or not . There is no right or wrong here. There is only listening. And then turn up the volume of the Onyx, of the listening. Make that listening sacred.”
“Sacred Listening”, Marcus let the words roll over his tongue and soar in his consciousness. “Sacred Listening, Sacred Home….Onyx….Hmmmm…”
Quiet.
He took a deep breath. Looked out through the window. Got up. Walked through the front door. Sat down on the stairs leading off the porch, right in front of Barry.
“Barry, do you know there is a song with the title “What’s Love Got To Do With It”? Maybe it’s time to use the phrase “What’s Fear Got To Do With It?”
“Now you’re getting somewhere Marcus! What’s fear got to do with it! Reply to that one more often! Spin that one in to the symphony. That’s how you get deeper inside life, how we will eventually get Home.”
Onyx.
OK, then.
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 