you freeze, you thaw, you form, you change, you melt, you raise, you fly, you accumulate, you transform, you re-shape, you fall again, you fly, the wind cathes you, sideways, back up, crashing down, swooshed in to a nothingness where all is dark and creation rests, germinates
Through the soils of Earth’s water you wake up again
with the rain- worms and clover
You spend what feels like a lifetime as dreary rain
There she is again, Mother Winter, eternal crystal queen
She picks you up, she condenses you, you crystalize, become crystalline, inviting new light, new life, freeze to settle, release to dance
in to the form, the shape of life you need to take right now,
I have come to love another country, that which was not mine, is truly mine
I have come to lose what I love and love what I lost
You should never go back to what you left, people say
You should always move forwards
Are we not moving all the time though?
Backwards, forwards, upwards, downwards, sideways, diagonally, round and round, in a spiral we are trying to grasp, or not, called life? Is it not just to be lived?
It should not feel like punishment, a heartstring mother of all told me.
Sacred Fierceness, she is.
It does. This feels like punishment.
So leave, my love, leave. Touch down to bounce up.
Star’s wisdom is wider than anything I have ever Known
In her playfulness lies a gentleness wrapped as a totally crazy devotion to nudging, watching, challenging disobedience
Star’s wisdom says break all the rules that are not of the heart, which do not make you fly
Keep companionship close, too close for comfort, unless it is neediness disguised as companionship - from your side too, my dear from your side too
Star’s wisdom says look in the mirror, just don’t drown in it.
Do it differently tomorrow Because tomorrow is different
Go back to school, walk backwards, sing a song, write a new story, a new life, a new way of living, being, loving and moving in and out of the world, anything
Reaching for the skies as the wick dies down, curling inwards, imploding
The end of the end of the end.
You see, the light needs to die before it can be reborn. That is what it does. That is what light is. Swallowed by darkness it hides underneath the ground. Germinates. Sprouts.
The darkness cannot be fought. It needs space. It needs to be given space.
You see, eventually darkness will feel so alone that it can do nothing but invite light in. Make space for it. Dance with it. Live with it. Mix with it. Mingle.
The light needs to die to be re-born. Darkness is the space where the light grows. Without darkness, no rest. Without rest, no movement.
You see, flow is what happens in the space between two points, two destinations. Music is what happens in the space between two notes.
We went into the woods to be baptized by the trees. Over and over again. Bowing under ash, dancing under cedar, reaching for oak, hiding under willow, laughing with pine, sitting under beech, healing through birch, cocooning under elm. Every breath a baptism.
Do you remember how the trees actually found us? You wanted to head for the ocean and I pulled you towards the trees. Do you remember biking under them to get to the open fields? I sang to make you stop and sense them there right underneath their canopy.
Do you remember how their leaves turned yellow, bright, red, golden, orange ? Like they showed us the multidimensionality of every single essence which grows. The sides which turn in the wind and look different from every direction.
Do you remember them bearing fruit? And how every new entry to ,and every exit out of , the woods had its ritual of me devouring at least one of those fruits?
Do you remember that there is actually not a lot to remember aside from that we were, we are, together? That it was how our journey together started? And it will never end. As it is a journey on a thread of many journeys. Might feel like it has a beginning and an end, yet all it has is a continuity. A continuity of that which holds it. Life. Light. Power. The Force.
Do you remember driving through all the trees to find me? To pick me up? How it felt like home once you entered the pine forests? How you loved the birches, ashes, oaks et al and that love turned to passion and homecoming when the pines started lining the road?
That is the continuity I want you to follow.
The continuity of the continuity of space, passion, life. You. Trinity. Power, Stillness and Presence. Smack right in the continuity of Space, Passion and Life.
If that ain’t an instruction for the New Chapter, I don’t know what is. And I, I know everything. I am Starlight.
“The journey of happiness, sadness and gratitude is the gift underneath the mistletoe. When you mistake that one for the truth of who you really are, that’s when sadness wins.”
Peaking in to the depths of the cold water, she saw and heard the reindeer speak behind her, his breath creating crystals of frozen dampness in the space surrounding them.
“See, I speak on an exhalation and draw inspiration on the inhalation.”
She turned around. Placed her hands around his beautiful, large, wise cheeks. Touched her nose to his. As she said “thank you” she noticed herself becoming that “thank you”.
“Where you end and your words begin is unclear. As there is no division. How you speak so it is and so you are and so it is. Just never ever stop. Never stop as a habit. Always stay in tune with where you are, to the movement. Follow the breath, follow the heart.”
The standstill of the past times was no more. She could feel it release.
“Feel it, let go, let loose, literally loosening its grip. There is nothing to grasp any more. Nothing to hold on to.
Holding on to hurts. Moving brings flow, brings fluidity, brings choice. If you freeze in the middle of a storm you are left to endure whatever is thrown at you and you will most likely be thrown around yourself. If you can move with the storm, with the debris, you feel the storm build and subside, you can move, take a step further out when you want and need to and you can utilize the power of the storm when you need it.
You humans have forgotten how to utilize the tremendous natural powers within you, the tremendous powers of nature. It happened when you all decided to put poles in the ground and stay in one place. All of a sudden you needed protection, shelter, locks and bolts. So you bolted up your heart and your joy in the process. Go release, go girl, go!”
The reindeer turned around and danced his gentle way towards the trees on the bank of the frozen river. She watched him disappear in the distance, feeling a sense of glimmer and hope of something similar to fulfilment for the first time a very, very long while.
How to love some-one,
How to love some-thing
How to
How can we
when
the world is whirling around us
and we whirl with
it
How to love some-one
We stop.
We stare.
The stare becomes looking
The looking becomes watching
Watching with gentler, widening eyes
Watching with nostrils wide
open
Watching with inner ears
listening
Listening from the soul
It just happens
When we
stop.
Right there, then,
in the stopping
we see the eternal moving
dripping its life essence
into the blood of our breath
Right there,
right in front of us,
above,
below,
in the middle,
to all sides
Love,
as a gentle breeze
and a powerful force,
moving
moving in the stillness
the stillness of our being
There it is.
Love.
Adventure.
Stillness.
Love, adventure, stillness.
We know it not by name,
We know it by knowing
- Cecilia Götherström, Sep 12th 2022
If I am really honest, in my heart of hearts I
will soar like a bird,
touching the snow covered mountain tops.
I will run downhill
paws deep in the mud,
grass
and moss
like a wolf,
chased by the wind, embraced by
moving space,
scents, a whiff
on a hunt
not for food but
for play,
for life,
for joy.
If I am really honest, in my heart of hearts I
will sing to the dawn, dance
in the shadows of morning
and eve.
I will not
succumb to this mediocre
numbness of
sitting
not to be sitting but
to be seated
where someone put you.
If I am really honest,
in my heart of hearts there is
no resistance,
no pull,
no push,
no tug,
no moving,
without purpose.
Like a reed in the wind,
its movement its purpose.
If I am really honest,
in my heart of hearts I will
throw out all the blankets,
the cushions,
the pillows and
their safety-nets.
In there, in my heart of hearts
is she,
her,
it,
them,
this,
whatever opens,
whatever closes
holding a candle,
enjoying the flickering of the
light,
the wind,
the rain,
the snow,
the sea,
the cold,
the sun,
the wintery, wintery skies.
If I am really honest, in my heart
of hearts
that mountaintop
is my home,
those woods my
backyard, my pantry
that river, my blood.
I sit there,
having chosen
to sit there
myself.
I live there.
Having chosen to live there
myself.
I breathe there,
having chosen to be there,
myself
In my heart of hearts.
Cecilia Götherström, April 23rd 2022
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 