marcus

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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 14. Dec 14th.

Marcus was floating in that space between dreaming and waking. He felt like a feather swirling through space, gently landing on a soft, soft deep- sleep – breathing wolf belly. He felt the warmth, he heard the breath, he was one with that fuzzy, thick winter fur there in his featherness for a while.

“Oh, if I could grasp this and put it in the symphony”, a thought drifted through his mind. He woke up.

“Nooooo, I want to go baaaaaack”, he stretched out under the duvet.

“The grasping brought you back”, Barry’s voice from outside the bedroom window. “Just lean in to that tune again, drift on the first octave, let yourself be featherly carried and you can go back. Through any music.”

Barry had taken the habit of sleeping under Marcus bedroom window. That way they could both breathe in symphony he’d said. Marcus quite often got the feeling that the polar bear took finishing writing this symphony even more serious than he himself did.

“OK”, Marcus said. “I am awake already. Might as well get up and get out. I am done with this onyxing. I can hear the moonstones calling.”

“That can only mean one thing”, Barry’s voice now came from the front door. “There is just one way to journey to the place where we meet all the moonstones. Make sure to pack more than lunch my dear Marcus.”

Marcus made his staple breakfast of oats, apricots, bananas and nuts for himself, a full side of smoked salmon with some dried lingonberries for Barry. Sat down out on the porch with the bear as they both watched a full show of Northern Lights making its way through and around the Milky Way. It was 3 minutes past 3 in the morning. No moon.

“New Moon today”, Marcus said. “I guess there could not really be a better time to start the journey to the moonstones. I mean, we finished quite some chapters yesterday, both the movements for the symphony and the heavy chapters for the book”.

“You are so right my dear WolfHearted Human of the Wilderness”, Barry replied. “I can sense that our guides are not very far from here. They heard the cry of readiness in your dream as you landed and started on their last leg this way already.”

Marcus had just finished making what Barry had called “not just a lunch package”, closed his backpack, got his “good walking shoes” out as he called them, staff in hand – no clue why, but he felt he’d needed what his neighbour Gina called “the witching wizard’s staff” for this walk. It was a pretty long staff which Star had found in the river when she was just a little puppy. She’d pulled it out of the water with all her might and dragged it up to the house. Put it in front of his feet. He smiled at the memory as he tied it to the backpack.

A howl. Quiet. Then a choir of howls. Through the treeline at the back of the house he could see countless eyes shining in the dark. One large, grey wolf stood out front. The rest of the pack waited in the trees.

“Our guides are here”, Barry waved at Marcus with his head and then gestured towards the family of greys.

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 14th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 12. Dec 12th

“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.

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 12th 2020.