kringlans kalender

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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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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.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 19. Dec 19th.

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

Samantha listened.

Was that Vayu? It was! 

He was singing, yet it sounded like a whisper. 

“Vayu, The Whispering Wolf”! She finally got it! That is what Josephiel had called him as they had met the dragon for the first time down there in the valley.

Two days ago the whole lot of them had set off from the First Dragon Cave in The Mountains of Stillness and Silence. They had moved through many sacred places in the mountain range. Today they had travelled through a plateau, just in between the two largest peaks. Quite a large open space, just a little below the tree line. Some moments they found themselves above the tree line, other moments just below.

Vayu was standing out on the edge of a cliff, howling his songwhisper out in to the vastness of space here in the Stillness and Silence.

Samantha walked a bit closer, sat down on a rock a few trees away from the wolf who now seemed to be a little older than the young pup from a few days ago.

“Who is Star Seeker, Vayu?”

“The one who is seeking Star”, Vayu replied.

“Marcus? But, but….”

“Yes, my dear Flower Of The North”, Vayu interrupted. “Of course he knows that Star will not be found back in the body she once inhabited. He is seeking the Essence. The Essence she embodied, the Essence he can find through his own Star in The Heart”.

“He’s on his way here?” Samantha looked around the trees, the rocks, the open space between the mountains.

“With my whole heart family of all wolf ancestors ever existed, yes”, Vayu replied. “I know that might feel a bit exaggerated but hey, if there’s a journey to be taken why not do it with all bells and whistles possible right? Star in her Essence even sent Storulven himself to lead the pack. He has not walked this dimension for at least 9 years. I am just singing them closer. The Moonstone of The Granite is inside this rock you see. The heart compass will lead Star Seeker right here. If he listens”.

“Still not sure what my journey is….?” Samantha wondered.

“Let your journey find you. Instruction number five, my dear. Openness to be found. Conscious Dawn leads you to that too. No one is ever lost.”

“Ssssshhhhhh, shhhhhhhhh, shhhhhhhhhhh”……

Northern Lights.

Samantha knew by now that the silvery green glow was just a cover up for all the Dragons of All The Secrets landing. If the human eye was bound to the magic of the Northern Lights, the real magic could land closer. Quite clever.

“Tomorrow”.

A little white dragon with gold coloured ears and wings landed next to her.

“And you are?”, Samantha asked.

“Snow The Dragon. Or just call me SnowDragon”.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 19th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 17. Dec 17th.

Dragonheart,

Snow and gold.

Tears are a tear in the void,

Tear in the heart.

Heart needs to break open,

Break open to fill,

Break open to heal,

Break open to feel.

Dragonheart and gold,

Dragonheart and snow,

Warm and cold,

Fire and ice,

Alchemy and letting go

Many, many, many

are the whispers,

fluid at times,

druid at others.

Listening,

when that is not what you want to hear,

what you want to see,

what you want to feel.

Listening then,

is pain.

Listening from

the dragonheart,

Touching from,

the wolf´s paw,

Singing from,

the thread of the soul,

That is.

Listening.

Samantha was doing all she could to not get distracted.

She had been sorting the mulberries and blueberries for Vayu. 

She had been sorting the golden threads for Mama D, and Josephiel had shown her how to knit gloves for all the “Listeners” with the yarn she´d been taught how to make out of the golden threads mixed with all the fallen feathers and shedded wolf hairs brought in to the cave earlier that day by the Buzzard Hawks.

It seemed the threads of the yarn spoke to her, or sang in a whispering way, as she moved the wooden knitting needles she´d found behind the moonstones next to the lapis lazuli.

She listened.

How could she understand it all? She kept asking herself over and over again. How could she put all this to use? For real? It seemed so clear and obvious – heart open, healing, sharing, listening, Being. But where was her Sacred Fierceness when she really needed it? How do you practice it in real life? 

She looked at her newly knitted gloves. Imagined wearing them as she walked the streets of her little suburbia in the evening with her furry friends. Watching the cats watching them through Christmas decorations filling up the windows of every home. There, underneath the streetlights, in the cold, wet wind – not here in a crystal cave with wolf pups, dragons, buzzard hawks and a few elves – how would she be able to be Sacred Fierceness?

“My dear little human”, Mama D spoke gently. “Why not start with choosing that heart of yours. With all that is in it already. Just take a look”.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 17, 2020
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 16. Dec 16th

“Sacred. Sacred. Sacred. Invitation. Invitation to write. Invitation to Be. Fierceness. Holy. Fierceness in Being. In writing. In creating. In moving through Earth. In moving through dimensions. In moving through this life, this love, this fullness of existing. That is sacred. Sacred Fierceness.”

The whispers were so clear Marcus could hear them like words being spoken in to his Soul and then echoing clearly in to his beingness. What he heard vibrated. Or did he hear first and then sense the vibration ?

“Not important”, the large Grey snoozing next to Marcus let go. “You humans can get so caught up in defining what came first, the whole chicken and egg thing. When you get stuck in details you lose the wholeness. Stepping away from that stuckness demands fierceness, passion, determination, Sacred Listening, Concious Dawn.”

“”An invitation to write”. I get it.”, Marcus said. “Everything is an invitation. To write. To listen. To sense. To be.”

“Yes, my child”, the great grey wolf got up, shook the snow which had settled in his fur during the morning’s gentle snowfall off himself, some of the crystals still lingering in his eyelashes. “Everything is an invitation. To be in Life. With everything which is put in front of you, behind you, above, below and around you. You in the center. Just like a Medicine Wheel.”

Grey sat down closer to Marcus and continued;

“You are the centre of your own individual Medicine Wheel. Intertwined with every other Medicine Wheel, in this and all other dimensions – or you can call them layers if you’d like. Koshas. You see, Above and Below holds the meeting of the dimensions. Center is where you are invited to hold yours. Sacred. Every moment.

The cardinal directions are Life. You are always facing one of these directions during your day, your week, your month. From the Center you can see exactly that. 

Do the work. Receive the guidance offered. Learn the lesson right there. You can also choose by Concious Dawn every new morning, every new sacred moment, to move towards another direction. With guidance. With support. Doing the work. Being the Fierceness. Allowing for Sacredness to come in and open all the senses, the hearts and the minds.”

Grey made his way towards the icy lake in search of the morning’s drink. There was a space where the currents of the rivers running to and from the lake were strong enough to allow for openness where they could all drink.

As Marcus watched the gangly, strong and so extremely wild wolf gently moving down the hill, he realized 

– “That is sacredness. That is fierceness. Every step is Concious Dawn. Every movement is Sacred. Every breath is an invitation.”

He laid back down on his back, resting on the stack of pine branches that held his sleeping bag, looking up towards the morning star.

Star.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 16th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 15. Dec 15th

Stillness. 

It was still.

Silence.

The Sound of Silence.

You could hear it.

You could feel it.

In your bones.

In your soul.

Such peace. Such lightness. Such a sense of being carried, held, embraced.

It had arrived with the golden-dust-sparkle-carriage. A flowing cloud of gold dragons. Many, many, much smaller than Josephiel and Mama D. They were everywhere, yet nowhere. 

They were all around in the cave, on the slope at the opening where Samantha and Vayu were sitting, on top of the ridge above the cave – yet it felt like they were not really taking up any space. They were space.

“This is the joy, the magic, the gold of Stillness and Silence”, Vayu sighed.

“Splendid, isn’t it?” Josephiel added. “Realizing the space we all inhabit is filled with the magic sparkle dust of these golden dragons, every cell and non-cell encircled, this magic gold is what is All. We see them as dragons right now, as dragon energy is the one energy which can carry magic, peace, serenity, truth – in other words Life inside Life – in this dimension, and quite a few other dimensions too for that matter.”

“Then why are dragons being slain in some of the old stories and myths, portrayed as threats and dangers to humans?” Samantha asked. “All of you who I have met are just gorgeous, powerful in a sacred-life-energy-carrying way. I don´t get it.”

“There was a time when magic, connection and knowing the secrets became considered wrong my dear. Dragons were the first to be banished from the magic of the myths. The myths were changed in to legends. Along the line wolves were added to the long list of sacred connections removed from you humans. More legends added. And the rest is history.”

“It is time to bring the true myths back then”, Samantha said resolute.

“They are still here.” Vayu replied. “All you need to do is listen. Exactly what you were doing. Did you notice you saw more dragons as you listen to the Sound of Stillness and Silence?”

“I did”, Samantha said.

She slid back in to Silence. Here in the Mountain of Stillness and Silence you felt it getting enlarged. You became the Stillness and Silence. You became Every Thing. Every One. No Thing and No One at the same time. It was like being lost without being lost, an amazing sense of being Home.

As she looked inside her heart she saw a huge troop of wolves pulsing through the trees in the deep snow. Led by someone who looked like Star, just grey and larger. Where were they heading?

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 15th 2020.