moonstones

by

Earth & Space, 21st of December, Door 21

Photo: Pintrest

“I am an Architect of Magic”.

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.

Mahakash
the magic spell

I am an Architect of Magic. 
I am.

Mahakash.

Let the Light die to be born anew. Makakash.

Author: Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinyazi

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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 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 6th

northern_xmas_by_morgainelefee_d4jrwfm-pre

“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 4th

Winter_Snow_Fir_Night_509182

“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