Saga sits down, places her pen next to her well worn notebook, looks out the window. The breeze is picking up, a gentle snowfall is on its way. You can tell by the slight greying of the sky, by the way the birds are dancing through the air towards the bird feeder, even by the sound of the wind through the kitchen fan.
Why had she not thought about that before? “I am an Architect of Magic”.
“Because through thinking you would never have arrived there. In that space of insight of who you are, of what you are here to share with the world my dear.”
The large, white wolf settles down next to her. The way they share space has always been like something out of this world. From day one.
“ I am an Architect of Magic”, Saga says it out loud again.
“Do you remember that stanza which came to you last year? The one which also begins with “I am”?”
Who is that outside the door? Who is speaking? Saga gets up, walks towards the front door, sensing there is more to who is there than she can imagine. Before her hand touches the door handle she remembers. The strophe rushes in through consciousness like a leaf in the gust.
“I am a Force of Nature. I am Power and Stillness in One!” she yells out as she opens the door.
Alba and Rosie! The two girls laugh, hug and cry at the same time. Rosie runs indoors, howls and performs the regular greeting dances, of course including the “hello I love you awesome to see you let me bite your fur and tug at your neck and throw you to the ground as you throw me to the ground good to see you or did I say that already ” wrestling game with AshWhite.
A few moments later the wolves and humans are gathered in a huge pile on the floor in front of the fireplace, where the open fire for this Midwinter Equinox has been crackling since the early MorningStar hours already. The wind picks up. Large, thick, soft snowflakes are being spun and swirled around in a dance even more intricate than the one the golden sky dragons performed a few days ago. Moonstones and pinecones are laid down on the altar. The four souls are singing together.
I am an Architect of Magic
Fire and Ice I am
Born of Earth and Space
Wild Moon Child I am
I am a Force of Nature
I am Power and Stillness in One
I am an Architect of Magic
Sacred Fierceness the staff
Pinecones and Moonstones the source
of
Space and Earth
of
Earth and Space
of
The Promise of Meru´s Wisdom
I am an Architect of Magic
All that I am is Here
Now
Three words drift through space. Whispered. Mahakash. Mahakash. Mahakash. Seven times.
The trees seem to fall down. Yet they are not. They are buried in deep, deep snow. Dragons dance above like garlands of stars.
It is seven days since they left the Glen, ahead of the morning star.
Up and up and up they went. Through dim top valleys, raging ravines and chest high mountain birch brushes. Over the tops of the Three Wishes. Down the Dark Valley of Hidden Wisdom. Back up the Mountain of Doom.
After the last bend they had all expected to see something entirely different than what was born in front of their eyes up there on the Diamond Step. As they turned that last bend they found themselves where they had only heard about in legends. Right at the “eye” of the Ursa Major . Alioth and Merak pointing the way to the path to Polaris.
“Polaris”, Rosie sighed. “Home”
Alba could feel the word ringing in her heart, in some strong, strange type of harmony. What was that? How could a star so far away yet so close by feel like home? How could this desolate place where their feet were placed feel like home?
“Because it is not desolate my dear Alba”, Rosie said. “Look at all the magic. Look up!”
Magic spun through the wisdom of choice of voice of being
Gold Silver and Granite
Take what is yours Leave the rest behind
The song of the elves, the dragons and reindeer versifying the scenery of snow, trees and stars. Are they creating it as they are singing? At least it feels like that to Alba.
“They are their own creation, all around them is their own creation, they are all what we – or you humans – are learning that you are dear Alba”, Rosie chuckled. “To take responsibility of and now truly be your own creation. That is why Polaris, these mountains, the wilderness feels like home. Because that is what you are and hence you create it and it creates you and so on, love creates what it loves – and hates creates what it hates, which is the other side of the medal in the field of duality – , love recognises it or actually recognises itself and more is created. This is your dream. Where you live and I live, in consciousness in this moment. That is why we are here together. Right here, right now. Let’s get to know more about our fellow beings here in this place!”
Soft, gentle bells swirling through the air. Snowflakes embracing the air.
There’s something about reindeers. Something about mountain goats. There’s something about the star in the sky. Something about The Milky Way. There’s something about light studded on a velvety clear sky. Something about mist and steam and ice and water. There’s something about waking up. Something about magic. There’s something about rest. Someting about taking stock. About making space. About clearing. About giving. About receiving.
Giving and Receiving is the same action, she told me last year. The Law of Reciprocity is something entirely different. Obligation versus living. What would you choose?
“Giving and Receiving is living under The Law of Abundance”, she brings across from the other side.
Abundance as a Law? Now, that’s a new concept all together.
“The sky, the reindeers, Orion, North Star, the mountain goats, the mist and steam and ice and water. Waking up in the morning. Rest and taking stock. Space. That is all Abundance right there. Living under The Law of Abundance simply means recoginizing that. Recognizing that everything you connect with is there. Right there. In the abundance of life. You can see it, hear it, feel it, taste it, smell it, even imagine it. That.”
Like the snowy white water dragon she puffs through the veils. She is there, with Space. She is here, in these keys on the keyboard. She’s in the voice thinking, typing, singing. She is.
Water Dragon, Space Dragon, Winter Dragon.
How did the wolves get celestial this year?
“Because of magic, my child. Because the energy of the world is held by dragons this time year this season. Because the wolves are you. Protected and enlightened by the dragons. What that means in practice is to come. Just be open these coming forthnights. Be aware and be open.”
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.
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”.
“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”
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 