path

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No more

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He might look like a young, innocent,  devoid of experience, warrior, but he held the wrath and protection of his ancestors. They held his back, his flanks, his future. He walked in their footsteps. In his own way.

The silvery mist was coming off his cape, latched to his shoulders by heavy ornamented armour. His dragon may well be sleeping yet he felt her waking presence. Through the dimensions they were always side by side. One mind. One soul. One being.

Why was it so hard for us humans to live in all dimensions all at once? he asked himself. Why did greed, hatred, fear, possession set as if in stone in this un-magical cold, non sensing world if ours?

The world where we fought over things, countries, people without knowing why. There really was a darker force out there feeding in to all of this.

He moved his hand through his thick, blond hair. Decided then and there to never look back. To always look in to and for those other dimensions from this moment on. To notice where he was being pulled in to the dark, to notice where the scheming seemend to be winning, to notice when it felt like there was no way out.

Love. Faith. Trust. Faith. Trust. Love.
They are all one and the same force.

Faith.

Look. Notice.

Be NoBody, NoOne, NoThing. Tread the paths of the threads between dimensions. Will to see them. Want to live them. There. Bring them in here.
That is magic. That is the magic.

There is no difference between living it, seeing it, being it. It´s there. Just open the eyes. Open the senses. Feel it. Then speak.
Before that words just block.

Sense it. Then speak. From there. From that place.

His father looked over his back.
”Son, my sword is yours. It will cut through all you don´t know that you don´t know, as well as all that which stands in the way. Use it. Sense. Listen. Look. Use it from that place. Now go.”

Cecilia Götherström, October 23rd 2018

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Return

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In a bag a few minutes ago I found this piece below which I wrote on Jan 10th 2014.
Reading it now, it gives me goosebumps – as giving the turmoil, development, moves and all that has happened the past 2,5 or even 3 years , it is more than symbolic that I wrote this early 2014 and am finding it today – July 12th.

Return

The return is imminent,
faith awaits

Her huge white wings
sweeping me in,
closing out the darkness for now

As the wings open
the dark, velvety night sky is adorned
with galaxies,
light-holes
and wishes turned in whisper

I stand there,
basking in her glow,
listening
to the whispers from now,
the whispers from before,
the whispers that were,
that are,
that will come.

In this place all is one.
There is no then,
no now,
no later.

Is the return really a return?
Or is it an opening of what was always there?

She asks me to open my eyes,
my ears, my heart,
with softness,
with a waiting,
whatever comes in.

A feather falls from the sky
into my hand,
I can feel its softness
caressing my cold palm,
almost making me giggle from the tickling feeling.

I watch the feather
as it turns and turns in my palm,
first slow,
then faster,
and faster.
The spiralling movements
makes it stir up
and away.

The feather has turned in to a huge raven,
first white,

when he takes flight I can see him
shifting in to grey,
then in to black,
his glistening eyes disappearing
with the flapping of his wings
directions Ursa Major.

The wind coming from the pine tress in the back,
bring another whisper,
a song,
an anthem.

There is a vibration from the ground,
I turn around.

The whole forest alive,
waving,
swaying,
gently sining a tune
of return,
of now,
of all never being anything other
than what is now.

A brown bear beckons me to come closer.
She has two cubs at her side.
It feels like I know them,
like I have seen them before,
like we are family.

I look up at the sky,
towards Ursa Major,
where Raven headed,
then look back at Mother Bear.

I return.

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Cecilia Götherström, 10/ 1 2014

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There

Reiki

Behind the sea there is a scent

Behind the scent
a truth

a truth odourless,
subtle
yet the greatest of them all

The truth of
who you are

a pearl within
a much larger scope
you could ever imagine.

Live that breath,
take that step
Be that one.

You.

Cecilia Götherström, 23-11 2015

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In my heart of hearts I

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In my heart of hearts I
hear music
sing to my soul

In my heart of hearts I
am music

In my heart of hearts I
spill in to the world of creation
like a brittle waterfall,
a whiskering wind,
like a tone of love,
of wildness,
of quaking wisdom
shivering out of my bones

In my heart of hearts I
know who I am

In my heart of hearts I
melt into the mother,
become the father

In my heart of hearts I
am the speck of oneness,
the soul who is the muse,
the giver of joy,
simultaneously

In my heart of hearts,
there is no stopping me,
No boundaries,
no beginning,
no ending,
in my heart of hearts

In my heart of hearts I
look deep into the brown-yellow eyes
of the enormous white wolf
in the mirror
looking back at me,
eyes full of tenderness,
eyes full of knowing,
soul full of worship

In my heart of hearts I
come home
to who I am,
to who I was,
to who I am to be,
simultaneously.

Cecilia Götherström, Nov 5th 2015
Thank you Roger Housden for the writing prompt!

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Rich

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I am rich.

Rich beyond belief,
beyond fathom, I am.

I am because I am rich.

Mother provides for me,
Father keeps me safe,
Brother nurtures me,
Sister sings to me.

Earth is what I am,
what I walk upon,
what lives inside my soul.

Sky is what breathes,
Soil is what bleeds,
Wind is what feels.

Rich I am.

All that I am,
is all that You are.

Star family, Earth family.

Rich I am.

Walk I do.

Forever and ever.
In the Richness of Plenty.

“Did you love today?” she asks before
she gently susses me to sleep.

“Were you grateful today?” he asks when
he closes the velvet around me.

“Did you live today? Live like life itself?”
they ask as they sing me away.

Dawn and dusk.
Dusk and dawn.

Creation.
Gratitude.
Breath.

Did you love today?

I did.

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Cecilia Götherström, June 21st 2015

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I am sorry House

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I am sorry House,
that I could not love you.

My heart was closed,
too busy holding on to pieces,
already broken
I was.

I could not see,
your tender care,
your solid hold,
you doing what you do best,
shelter.

I could not feel
warm, ancient soil
underneath my feet
lifting pine trees to the sky
welcoming crystal white covers
to carry us into the depths of the woods
in the company of ravens, eagles, moose and myths.

I was not hearing
the soaring air,
the speaking winds,
the soft whispers of comfort,
the Soul of the land
speaking to my broken soul.

My heart could smell,
could touch the sun,
could caress the moon,
sing with wolves and wonders
– but not under your roof.

I am sorry House,
for not living
while I inhabited your space.

I am sorry House,
for just grieving
in your warm arms.

I am sorry Mountain,
for loving you more
than I love myself,
for finding life, joy, wonder and purpose
on your hilltops.

I am sorry Mountain,
for capturing your soul into mine,
for the bliss of oneness
which only you know.

I am sorry Mountain,
that I cannot live that gift, that passion
for now and ever after more.

If anyone will ever ask,
I shall say;
The Mountain holds my Soul.

Cecilia Götherström, May 7th 2015

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The Song Of Me

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The Song of Me,

flies over snow covered mountains,

sings a spring time creek to its cover.

The song of me,

crosses hearts and barriers,

opens, moves and births.

 

The song of me,

is for no one else to sing,

but to blend in to

the song of all of us.

 

The song of birth, of cry, of worship,

of destinations

time and again.

 

The song of me breaks open,

moves crystals and rocks

into blessings.

 

The song of me cracks open,

that which is to be said,

to be done,

to be laid down,

to be rendered,

reunited,

rewed,

regained, retwined, regranded.

 

The song of me,

sings to the eyes of the soul

to the song of the gods

the eyes of the stars.

 

The song of me is the soul,

the spare, the twining twister,

the ever splendid galaxy of tears,

of joy,

of magic,

of serenity,

of wisdom,

of class and doom.

 

The song of me

is mine to sing,

thine to hear,

ours to twine

and twine and twine.

 

The song of me,

is of me strong,

of me being creation,

of me being all.

 

The song of me,

is of All.

 

The song of me

is you,

the you that is not

as me is.

I am

the song of me

 

Divine

 

 

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Cecilia Götherström, Gävle 13/3 2015

 

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Path of this warrior

Today I had a thrust of inspiration to start this blog.

The inspiration did not come out of nowhere, though the thrust did.

Warriorship has followed and intrigued me my whole life, as far back as I can remember .Or I could also call it a constant fascination with and an attraction towards warriorship – be it the Samurai, the Shaolin Monks of Kung Fu Shaolin, the Haka, the Bhagavad Gita, Yoda of Starwars even.

What has drawn me in the most has had nothing to do with fighting, but all to do with presence, perserverance, a sense of deep seated wisdom, of purpose , of belonging and knowing. Of standing “your ground”, knowing it is actually “the ground” which you are part of.

A strength not merely physical, but omnipresent.

The road to this day, to the beginning of this first aware step on this path has been long, diverse and winding.

Just like the Yoga Sutras by Patanjali begins with “atha yoga anusasanam” – where “atha” stands for “now” and the complete sutra is saying “now, the instruction of yoga” – I feel, for the first time, that I am standing ready, somewhat prepared, almost thrusted forwards to walk this path.

“Atha yoga anusasanam” – these words are spoken to us by Patanjali for the moment after the student has done all the preparations necessary to embark down to path to really learn and receive the instructions of yoga.

“Atha” – the real path of this warrior begins now .

How auspicious one might say that I was presented with this thrust of inspiration today, the very day I had finished quite a process of clearing out old garbage and finally felt a tad bit cleaner .

The very day I had finally in my heart understood the essence of one of my favourite passages of the Bhagavad Gita which goes “Set thy heart upon thy work , but never on its reward. Work not for a reward , but never cease to do thy work”.

The very day I for the first time completely understood with every fibre of my being the essence of the saying “All that exists is the Now, this very moment. Nothing else exists, nothing else is real”.

The very day I thought I found the root to Joy, to Being, to just live in the Now, to do my work whatever that may be at that very moment.

That today, would also be the day of my first attending the Stay Away/Krav Maga course.

“Atha”/Now, as part of the first step on the “path of this warrior”, I was being presented with the information on how the workings of our “day-to-day-programmed-for-survival-and-what-we-call-social-interaction-minds” really should be interpreted through a clear looking-glass . How the “predator – prey” jungle out there, which we call daily life, actually works.

Oh, how many, if not all, situations laid out I recognized from my own life, my own personality – and we all did, as they were everyday situations to start with.

How it made me see situations, conversations and interactions from a completely different angle, many from an almost complete opposite view.

A warrior’s view sees all, without attachment. There is no judgment, just knowing.

In the Bhagavad Gita the mind is pictured as the battlefield by many commentators, and life as the battlefield by others. But what is the difference between life and mind?

Mind interprets life.

Life programs mind.

The warrior sees from “behind” the mind.

The very clear instruction in this Stay Away/Krav Maga course today started with seeing “behind” what we call life. Behind the mind.

To do that, the instruction was to understand “the mind” of the other person in connection with your own mind and vice versa.

The battlefield, once again.

The confrontations with “myself” were many this first lesson.

Some situations mentioned took me back to a past when things really went wrong, but then came “it does not exist anymore, all that exists is Now” back in.

Standing up for myself and holding my space felt extremely awkward at first, not helped by the fact that I know, and am fond of, all three instructors – but then came “set thy heart upon thy work…” And my work was to learn what was being taught in that moment.

So, the second trembling step on this path was taken.
“Atha” is now behind me.
The journey has begun.

I salute my fellow travellers.

A-ho.

March 13th 2014

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