Guides

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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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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 20th

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Dawn Gloria MorningStar stood at the banks where the river met the ocean. Where the sweet water met the salt water. Where everything merged before her very eyes.

The Northern Lights were playing in the skies again this night. They had been truly blessed with many Aurora Borealis dances these past weeks.

Star sat a little higher up the slope, overlooking the human and her hearts guide Meru at the riverbank.

”It feels like everything is a river Meru”, Dawn said. ”Everything just flows and amounts to nothingness, disappearing in the nothingness of the ocean. Like nothing really matters.”

”My dear, wise, melancholic child”, Meru looked right into her eyes. ”The nothingness is the everythingness, the limitlessness. It might feel frightening at times but it’s not disappearing, it’s appearing. First you need to allow yourself to flow with the river, to move closer to the banks when the river appears too wild for you, to move from the quieter side flows in to the midst of the river when you feel stagnation knocking on your hearts door. Travel conciously from mountain to ocean, allow yourself to experience all of it. Make your way through the open plains above the treeline, through the narrow passages between the rocks, past and around roots, pebbles, sand and earth. Merge, merge, merge. Be a drop a water, ascending with the warm air. Journey with the clouds. Drop down on the glacier. Become a beautiful, beautiful frozen crystal. Flow with the river again. All metaphorical, yet literal. Sense what matters to you, choose what matters to you. Know yourSelf.”

Star sighed, got up on her front paws, adjusted her posture. She had heard their whole conversation. She felt so strongly for this human. For her pack. Of which the human was a distinct part by now. Because, yes, they were all her  pack. The Mother. The Crown. The Togetherer.  That was Star. Her role. She was. Meru spoke. Craft embodied. Red was the music between them all. Blue the dance.

The Medicine Wheel was still laid out on the pebble beach. Right in the centre of it Wizard was standing, staff and cloak making him look quite regal. Silver White, the powerful grey stallion, was right there with Wizard. Surrounded by the pinecones and moonstones they both looked like they were exactly where they belonged. Home.

DragonWhite and Elo were accompanying the elves, fairies and Nisse on their way to the village in the valley. It was time for them all to unveil with soft silver-sparkle.

”Why does my heart feel so heavy, Meru?” Dawn asked her heartfriend.

”Because everything has to end for something new to begin. Because for the first time ever you will let go for real. Fully. And your heart knows enduring and holding on better than it knows welcoming. Don’t push the heaviness away. Let it move through your heart, like this water in front of us, washing yourself ready for the welcoming my dear.”

Star moved restlessly.

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 20th 2019

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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 6th

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“Pinecones and moonstones, pinecones and moonstones, pinecones and moonstones….”

The words rung like a mantra in her head. Or were they flying in from the multitude of birds busy collecting the last twigs, berries and seeds before the sheet of snow covered all the goodies?

”Pinecones and moonstones?”

In her dreams last nights he had been visited by a white reindeer, carrying what the reindeer herself called ”the message of oneness”.

”See the whole Universe in a stone”, she’d said.

As they had been sitting there together in her dream, watching the Aurora Borealis swirling across the sky, it was pretty easy to picture how to  ”see the whole Universe in a stone”. The Aurora looked like crystals, the sky was covered with crystal-shimmering stars, their breath turned to crystals there in the cold night, they held crystals in their hearts – heck, they actually were crystals come to think of it!

”And not only crystals are stones. All stones are stones, ” Elo the reindeer had blinked through her large eyes filled with the glow of planets towards her.

 

”Pinecones and moonstones? Of course, moonstones are stones. But the pinecones?”, she was wondering there in her waking state.

”Pinecones are the eternal signs of gratitude, the portals to the larger universes, to the wideness where the void speaks and the darkness sings”, she heard his voice tell.  Meru was of course in her mind, like she was so often invited in to his but not yet always awake enough to notice.

”OK”, she said. ”Now what?”

”We will go out and collect moonstones and pinecones,  build our own Medicine Wheel with them.” He stretched, ready to get up and go. ”For each pinecone, one moonstone”.

”How on earth will I find that many moonstones?”, she muttered to herself quietly. ”I mean pinecones are everywhere, but moonstones….”

”Ain’t that interesting Little One?” Meru mused. ” ”Pinecones are everywhere”. That means the whole ground, the whole forest is scattered with gratitude. What do you think happens when we pick that gratitude up, hold it, connect with it? I think moonstones will follow!”

She realized she understood his point but not really what it meant nor why they needed to build a Medicine Wheel. She also knew that asking would lead nowhere. The instruction was clear – pick up the pinecones,  a.k.a. the gratitude,  and the moonstones would follow a.k.a. the what-ever-they-were-she-would-find-out.

 

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 6th 2019

 

 

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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 5th

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His shrivelling hands reached up to the skies. The nine falling stars met the node of his staff. A flash of lightning, a scream of connection, the wind ceased blowing and the earth whispered for a little while.

The wizard stepped down from his stone. Tired. Weary. He should be happy. Should be fulfilled. He was too tired to feel anything. He needed to lie down.

Crawling,  his hands searched for  the softest stones on the pebble beach. The waves were gently caressing the rocks. No tide tonight, just the movement of a silently dancing starfish and dolphins.

His hands found a spot of stones carefully polished by eons of ice and water. Here he would rest. Here he would regain himself.

He laid down, placing the staff beside him, covering it with the grey cloth and moss he carried in his pouch. He leaned in to the stone covered earth. Closed his eyes. Sssshhhhhhh…..

New stories would be written. Covering up what was between the old stories and the now. But who would write them? He was worried. Sssshhhhh….

The mist of sleep fell over him. Lulling him in to the space in between the veils. No moon tonight. What was to come?

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 5th 2019

 

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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 4th

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“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

The sound echoed over the white covered earth. Up above the mountain, in the starlit sky, a white dragon was painting the rune Thurisaz with her breath.

“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

Paws breaking through the crusty surface. Yellow eyes. Fur dark as the night sky.

Craft moved through the night like he always did. Owning it. Nobody noticing him. Ever. Considering his gigantic stature and enormous energy field it was surprising. But not to him. The humans living in this valley, on these mountains, closed down when they sensed a force so strong, so transformative that anything was possible. Limitlessness was not something they felt comfortable with, not something they’d been raised to understand.

“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

The aurora borealis in the sky, the elements, the grass, the woods, the stream, the lake, the mountains, they all walked with him. In ancient tales bards had sung his praise, many Völvas had told his story.

Craft was everywhere. Always. Just like Star. Just like Meru.

He cut short right in the middle of the large open field, right on top of the snowcovered lake at its centre.

He could sense her approaching. Slowly.

Star.

Somewhere between the clouds in his memory he could feel the two of them calling in Meru too. Without Grey,  Meru, no point. Whether they would find Red or not was up to how the three of them got together.

Meru had a companion though. That was the cloudy feeling. Craft could not really make sense of the energy until he realized it was human. A human in the mind of the wolves ? Like almost fully inhabiting it?  Well, that was about time. Time to let the human heart in.

”This could be a game changer”, Craft said out loud to himself. ”We shall see…”

 

– Cecilia Götherström, 4 December 2019

 

 

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Dec 1st, The Promise, Part I

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”And so it begins…”

With amber eyes she caresses every movement my mind makes, living in the depths of my soul as she speaks. With the voice of a mother she holds my intention in hers.

”Outside the comfort zone, new challenge is what it may feel like,” she hums.

” Going deep within, taking on the Journey to fulfill the ancient promise is what it really is. Go my child. Go to come home.”

The wind is suddenly picking up, icy air is turning my ears in to frosty red bundles. My lovikavantar protecting my hands from the cold.

Right here, right now, there is nothing strange at all about sitting in between her front paws, her entire wolfness envelopping me with a beauty my heart has never witnessed before. Right here, right now, the fact that this fluffy raven and I are about to go on what will be a very, very long hike is anything but strange.

”So”, the white wolf whispers. ”You have been here before. It´s the 7th year. 21 days. It is time. They are all here. Meru, Nisse, Bertil, Pe, the dragons, the giants, the trolls, the little people, everyone. 7 years you queens have been building this portal. Dragging stones, moving and planting roots, digging deep, decorating  with dreams, wishes, strength, power. Overwon despeair, dis-ease, grief, moved mountains to get this portal ready. With your magic you have ornamented thesed doors in 4 different ways while remaining as one. It is time to open the gateway. To merge with what is on the other side. To look all your fears in the eye to be able to turn them in to gold. In to gold and silver dust.”

She changes the seat of her paws, softening her gaze, allowing for the moon and the stars to glow through her white coat as she lightly yawns before capturing me in her eyes again.

”These dances have been going on since ancient times, like the swirling breath of of the winter hunters”, she continues. ” Since ancient times some have listened, some have stayed, some have returned, others have not. This time we need to return all together. This time there will be no veil. We all have to do this together. It´s a choice to save not just what we have but what we truly are. It is our last chance to create this New Earth, through returning to the ancient wisdom.”

I know it is time to go. Time to pick up and leave. It is not that I am dreading it, it is more like ”Why? Why is December 1st always the beginning of the next big move? Why can it not just be a soft, glittery, curly and gentle way into the favourite season of the year?”

Raven chuckles. ”You´re funny”. Flapping her wings. ”You know soft, fluffy, gentle and all that won´t go down at all with that inner spirit of yours. We will fluff enough in between journeys, I promise. But now we really have to embark.”

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 1st 2018
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No more

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He might look like a young, innocent,  devoid of experience, warrior, but he held the wrath and protection of his ancestors. They held his back, his flanks, his future. He walked in their footsteps. In his own way.

The silvery mist was coming off his cape, latched to his shoulders by heavy ornamented armour. His dragon may well be sleeping yet he felt her waking presence. Through the dimensions they were always side by side. One mind. One soul. One being.

Why was it so hard for us humans to live in all dimensions all at once? he asked himself. Why did greed, hatred, fear, possession set as if in stone in this un-magical cold, non sensing world if ours?

The world where we fought over things, countries, people without knowing why. There really was a darker force out there feeding in to all of this.

He moved his hand through his thick, blond hair. Decided then and there to never look back. To always look in to and for those other dimensions from this moment on. To notice where he was being pulled in to the dark, to notice where the scheming seemend to be winning, to notice when it felt like there was no way out.

Love. Faith. Trust. Faith. Trust. Love.
They are all one and the same force.

Faith.

Look. Notice.

Be NoBody, NoOne, NoThing. Tread the paths of the threads between dimensions. Will to see them. Want to live them. There. Bring them in here.
That is magic. That is the magic.

There is no difference between living it, seeing it, being it. It´s there. Just open the eyes. Open the senses. Feel it. Then speak.
Before that words just block.

Sense it. Then speak. From there. From that place.

His father looked over his back.
”Son, my sword is yours. It will cut through all you don´t know that you don´t know, as well as all that which stands in the way. Use it. Sense. Listen. Look. Use it from that place. Now go.”

Cecilia Götherström, October 23rd 2018

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Return

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In a bag a few minutes ago I found this piece below which I wrote on Jan 10th 2014.
Reading it now, it gives me goosebumps – as giving the turmoil, development, moves and all that has happened the past 2,5 or even 3 years , it is more than symbolic that I wrote this early 2014 and am finding it today – July 12th.

Return

The return is imminent,
faith awaits

Her huge white wings
sweeping me in,
closing out the darkness for now

As the wings open
the dark, velvety night sky is adorned
with galaxies,
light-holes
and wishes turned in whisper

I stand there,
basking in her glow,
listening
to the whispers from now,
the whispers from before,
the whispers that were,
that are,
that will come.

In this place all is one.
There is no then,
no now,
no later.

Is the return really a return?
Or is it an opening of what was always there?

She asks me to open my eyes,
my ears, my heart,
with softness,
with a waiting,
whatever comes in.

A feather falls from the sky
into my hand,
I can feel its softness
caressing my cold palm,
almost making me giggle from the tickling feeling.

I watch the feather
as it turns and turns in my palm,
first slow,
then faster,
and faster.
The spiralling movements
makes it stir up
and away.

The feather has turned in to a huge raven,
first white,

when he takes flight I can see him
shifting in to grey,
then in to black,
his glistening eyes disappearing
with the flapping of his wings
directions Ursa Major.

The wind coming from the pine tress in the back,
bring another whisper,
a song,
an anthem.

There is a vibration from the ground,
I turn around.

The whole forest alive,
waving,
swaying,
gently sining a tune
of return,
of now,
of all never being anything other
than what is now.

A brown bear beckons me to come closer.
She has two cubs at her side.
It feels like I know them,
like I have seen them before,
like we are family.

I look up at the sky,
towards Ursa Major,
where Raven headed,
then look back at Mother Bear.

I return.

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Cecilia Götherström, 10/ 1 2014