presence

by

Earth & Space , 1st of December, Door 1

“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”

Author: Cecilia Götherström, Pejuta Wakinyazi

by

Transmissions of Starlight / 18

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.

Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022

by

Transmissons of Starlight / 12

Monday.
12-12-22.

Let me sing you
the song
of 
Mondays

of new beginnings,
of moon,
of new,
and beginnings

I mean,
have there ever been
old beginnings?

Just saying…

You see,
for something
to begin
something 
else
must end

Yet

it’s all actually
one
long thread of 
now’s.

It’s all in how
you
see
it

Division?
or
Connection?

both in the
same
coin

Before
ends
Now
begins

yet

all is
Now

Every day,
every moment
has
its own
energy

Notice it,
you only can
when 
you hear
the
Now

Do you hear it?

Now
Now
Now

No dreaming,
just being

No pining,
just soaking

Now
Now
Now

All there is

Now

Starlight

Now

Let me sing to you
the song of
Mondays

Your beginnings
your endings
your now’s

Your Star-light.

This.
Is.
It.

Presence,
Power,
Stillness

Starlight.

This.





Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
by

Transmissions of Starlight / 7

 
 
The Starling crying out, 
singing, calling. 
A portrait of what is awakening, breaking. 
A call of the wild from deep within. 
Green moss embedded in the Earth. 
 
It was time to take a new name.  
 
She had been known as Wolf Woman, Fighter, Grand Symphony of Cacophony and many more names before. Now there was just presence. 
 
“I am a force of Nature. I am Power and Stillness in one.” 
 
The Trinity of Presence, Power and Stillness. 
 
The Trinity of the new era. 
The Trinity of Starlight. 
 
“I am a force of Nature. I am Power and Stillness in one”, had landed in her lap, via Starlight, some months ago. What it meant had not dawned on her gently. It had done so abruptly. Several times. Multiple abruptness one might say, if that’s a term. 
 
The Trinity of Presence, Power and Stillness. 
 
“It is needed now. It will be sorely needed in the months and years to come. Remember it like a storm within when the wrecking ball bashes outside. Stand in The Trinity of Presence, Power and Stillness. In it. Not outside it. Not around it. In it.” 
 
The Northern Lights were swooshing, speaking, singing to her again. Amazing how they seemed to pick up where Reindeer had left off. 
 
Trinity picked her pen up. Closed the book. It was time to write the new story. With every breath. With every step. With every backlash anew. 
 
 
The Trinity of  Power, Presence and Stillness. 
 
Moon and Star. Star and Moon. 
 
Starlight. 
 
 
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
by

Elsa, my Elsa

Like a mild summer
rain,
a waterfall of
love,
drizzling down my cheeks

Your absence and
your presence
touch me every
morning

Alone in the heart,
immersed in the everything-
ness of your being

You are there,
I am here
Yet we are
everywhere




- Cecilia Götherström, July 7th 2022
by

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

by

MidWinter

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Candlelight, chestnuts and pinecones

Christmastree,
it is just you and me

Comfort, life, breath
Pineneedles, light, sacredness

I stop,
I forget
in a way which makes me re-member

you came from a slope,
which was once me,
specks of atoms, of dust
you grew out of snow
I was

yesterday,
today,
tomorrow,
now

It all just is.
We all just are.

Christmastree,
you and me
are just dreams of traditions,
of what is and what is to come
Nothing more.
Nothing less.

You in my livingroom,
I in your forest.

It all blends,
in this moment
tomorrow
now
then
there
when
who cares?

Let us sing,
let us be the charol.

Have you not always dreamed,
like me,
to be carried out on a chord,
to slide down a tune
echoing in to the wilderness
with nothing to stop you
sounding

Who cares?
What cares?

Let us sing with the stars,
soak the light in to our hearts
Like the candles on your branches,
let us shine through the night

Midvinterblot,
I hail thee

My roots are deeper than the mountain
My home is stronger than my heart
My soul echoes through eons

Take my hand,
carry me away

While remaining here,
watching,
re-membering
taking in your light
Oh Christmastree, oh Christmastree
of Odins heart so strong

Hel.
Whole.
Hel.
Helig.
Holy

Oh , holy night.

Åh, helga natt.

Home.

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 10th 2018