Sacred

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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 17. Dec 17th.

Dragonheart,

Snow and gold.

Tears are a tear in the void,

Tear in the heart.

Heart needs to break open,

Break open to fill,

Break open to heal,

Break open to feel.

Dragonheart and gold,

Dragonheart and snow,

Warm and cold,

Fire and ice,

Alchemy and letting go

Many, many, many

are the whispers,

fluid at times,

druid at others.

Listening,

when that is not what you want to hear,

what you want to see,

what you want to feel.

Listening then,

is pain.

Listening from

the dragonheart,

Touching from,

the wolf´s paw,

Singing from,

the thread of the soul,

That is.

Listening.

Samantha was doing all she could to not get distracted.

She had been sorting the mulberries and blueberries for Vayu. 

She had been sorting the golden threads for Mama D, and Josephiel had shown her how to knit gloves for all the “Listeners” with the yarn she´d been taught how to make out of the golden threads mixed with all the fallen feathers and shedded wolf hairs brought in to the cave earlier that day by the Buzzard Hawks.

It seemed the threads of the yarn spoke to her, or sang in a whispering way, as she moved the wooden knitting needles she´d found behind the moonstones next to the lapis lazuli.

She listened.

How could she understand it all? She kept asking herself over and over again. How could she put all this to use? For real? It seemed so clear and obvious – heart open, healing, sharing, listening, Being. But where was her Sacred Fierceness when she really needed it? How do you practice it in real life? 

She looked at her newly knitted gloves. Imagined wearing them as she walked the streets of her little suburbia in the evening with her furry friends. Watching the cats watching them through Christmas decorations filling up the windows of every home. There, underneath the streetlights, in the cold, wet wind – not here in a crystal cave with wolf pups, dragons, buzzard hawks and a few elves – how would she be able to be Sacred Fierceness?

“My dear little human”, Mama D spoke gently. “Why not start with choosing that heart of yours. With all that is in it already. Just take a look”.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 17, 2020
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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 15. Dec 15th

Stillness. 

It was still.

Silence.

The Sound of Silence.

You could hear it.

You could feel it.

In your bones.

In your soul.

Such peace. Such lightness. Such a sense of being carried, held, embraced.

It had arrived with the golden-dust-sparkle-carriage. A flowing cloud of gold dragons. Many, many, much smaller than Josephiel and Mama D. They were everywhere, yet nowhere. 

They were all around in the cave, on the slope at the opening where Samantha and Vayu were sitting, on top of the ridge above the cave – yet it felt like they were not really taking up any space. They were space.

“This is the joy, the magic, the gold of Stillness and Silence”, Vayu sighed.

“Splendid, isn’t it?” Josephiel added. “Realizing the space we all inhabit is filled with the magic sparkle dust of these golden dragons, every cell and non-cell encircled, this magic gold is what is All. We see them as dragons right now, as dragon energy is the one energy which can carry magic, peace, serenity, truth – in other words Life inside Life – in this dimension, and quite a few other dimensions too for that matter.”

“Then why are dragons being slain in some of the old stories and myths, portrayed as threats and dangers to humans?” Samantha asked. “All of you who I have met are just gorgeous, powerful in a sacred-life-energy-carrying way. I don´t get it.”

“There was a time when magic, connection and knowing the secrets became considered wrong my dear. Dragons were the first to be banished from the magic of the myths. The myths were changed in to legends. Along the line wolves were added to the long list of sacred connections removed from you humans. More legends added. And the rest is history.”

“It is time to bring the true myths back then”, Samantha said resolute.

“They are still here.” Vayu replied. “All you need to do is listen. Exactly what you were doing. Did you notice you saw more dragons as you listen to the Sound of Stillness and Silence?”

“I did”, Samantha said.

She slid back in to Silence. Here in the Mountain of Stillness and Silence you felt it getting enlarged. You became the Stillness and Silence. You became Every Thing. Every One. No Thing and No One at the same time. It was like being lost without being lost, an amazing sense of being Home.

As she looked inside her heart she saw a huge troop of wolves pulsing through the trees in the deep snow. Led by someone who looked like Star, just grey and larger. Where were they heading?

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 15th 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 13. December 13th.

Tea. Dark chocolate. Glitter and sparkle against a velvety background shining through the opening of this gianormous cave.

Samantha almost had to pinch herself.

Awaiting Lucia-morning here. Inside the first of the Mountains of Stillness caves, with the Queen of Dragon Queens Mama D herself. It was bigger than any dream she’d ever had for herself.

“Is that really true? Like in the heart of your heart of hearts true?” Vayu asked as he curled up next to Samantha.

“What do you mean “really true”?”, Samantha replied.

“You know, we quite often think we wish the most splendid things and experiences for ourselves, involving places, things, beings, moments, even those as superbous as this one right now. Yet they are more focused on others. Like this Lucia – morning, like Mama D. They are both true energies of Love and Fierceness. Power. Both of those energies are living from their heart of hearts. If you would truly live from the heart of hearts right now in this magic, sacred moment, what would you do? What would the tea and chocolate of your soul be so to speak in this very moment?”

“I would pick up an instrument, pen and paper. I would write. I would sing.” Samantha heard herself blurting out without hesitation or thought. 

“I would sing this moment. I would sing the stars. I would sing the light. I would sing darkness. I would sing healing. I would sing love. I would sing home. And for Marcus somewhere down there in the valley I would sing Star.”

“See, sister!”, Vayu’s eyes glistened. They had already transformed from their puppy blue to dark night sky blue. Soon they would change to yellow as he reached his fully grown self. “That is what you should be doing. Sing all that. Be the music, be the holy reverence resting inside of you. With Fierceness. Sacred Fierceness.”

“Sacred Fierceness?” Samantha looked like she had an epiphany. “I’ve heard that phrase before. In whispers. Some days ago! At the beginning of our hike I think? Did you hear them too?”

“It’s what my mother always spoke about.” Vayu said. “Though she was only with us for our 16 first weeks, I can still hear her whispering “Sacred Fierceness” from her way wandering Home.”

“Home?” Samantha wondered. “Wasn’t home with you and your siblings?”

“She was called Home quite suddenly, to the Home with a capital H, very soon after we’d arrived. Her task is about five dimension from here I believe. I am walking our task here, yet we are always connected. Sacred Fierceness is that bond. To your music and your songwriting too. Wow, look!”

Outside a light-carriage was moving across the starry skies, getting closer and closer. Fairies and winged beings lighting the way. It was heading right towards the cave opening.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 13th 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.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 11. Dec 11th

Another evening on the path following the pawsteps of the little bundle of joy & life force Vayu The Whispering Wolf. They were being guided by Josephiel the Cloud Shrouding White Dragon floating in the air just above them through the valley,  heading towards the Mountain of Stillness and Silence.

Josphiel was of the opinion that wading through deep snow was no dragon business, taking to the wild blue yonder was.

Vayu had hidden a laugh within a yawn as he’d said “Let him believe he’s the one guiding us. There ain’t no better guide in this dimension than this very nose right here”.

Samantha was really enjoying these nightly hikes. They were usually on the move until just before midnight. Then they’d either find or build a shelter. For her, both Josephiel and Vayu were very clear about every time.

“For that somewhat frozen little human”, they would joke daily.

This evening they were getting close to their last hike among the trees. Shelter would probably be just above the treeline.

The glittering snow crystals reflected the Milky Way, or was it the other way around?

“Everything is a reflection”, Vayu said. “All the beauty you see in the world, all the things you reject, criticize or judge, they are all part of your perception reflecting back at you. That is why The Whispers are so powerful. Why you want them on your side. The Whispers are closer to Truth than the words you cover them with when you speak and think loud thoughts covering any possibility to perceive the most perceivable of them all. The Still Whispers of Your Soul. Only in stillness can you hear them. The Whispers.”

“Are you saying that this gorgeousness of diamondy glittery silver lives inside of me too?”, Samantha asked.

“Yes! And do you know what more lives inside of you?… 

Vayu went dead quiet.

“Come on, are you going to tell me?” 

Vayu did not move. He did not even flinch. 

Samantha looked up in the direction his eyes stared. Holy moly…. Was that an avalanche? There was no sound, so there could not be, right?

The sparkly cloud of glittery-moon-reflecting-snow-star-dust rushing down the mountain slope was the size of a jumbo jet.  As the diamond-dust evaporated something took shape where the sparkle settled.

“Mum!”, Josephiel twirled in the air, somersaulted towards them.

Right in front of Samantha and Vayu, the largest, grey-sparkling dragon anyone could possibly imagine.

“Enchanted”, she exhaled. “Mama D welcomes you all.”

  • Cecilia Götherström , December 11th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 8. December 8th.

I really don’t know how I got here. I really don’t remember. Why am I sitting here at the table, no Star curled up at my feet, writingfeather in hand? 

No clue. There’s so much I really don’t understand. Can’t fathom. It is fascinating how easy it is to tap in to living in ignorance, letting life flow by and you flow with it – instead of inside it. She was inside it. Inside life. Always.

“Dreams!”, Vayu whispered out over the frozen water. “Dreamsssssss….”

‘Yes, dreams!”, Josephiel joined him. A little louder though.

“What are you all on about with this dreams-thing?” Samantha looked at both the tiny wolf pup and the large dragon.

“Well”, Vayu jumped on to her lap, challenged her to a hug wolf style. “Marcus just said the words. The code. Which  means the release has started. The life inside the life. The gate to all the doors, dimensions, directions or what you humans might call “secrets”. Have you ever pondered how the word “Secret” almost sounds like “Sacred”? Try saying both really fast after each other twentyfive times and see what happens!”

Josephiel let out a belly laugh as he tried and barely made it past the third round.

“What does that have to do with dreams?” Samantha still felt a little lost in translation.

“Conscious Dawn is the first step, Live Inside Life the second one”, Vayu explained. “We’ve now got two of seven instructions. So it’s time to dream the world we want to see dawning inside life, for ourselves and for this Earth. One at a time. Then we can step back, see how they intertwine and whisper life in to both. As Marcus is healing, Star is getting deeper on  the path of Home and we all move ahead on all our journey.”

“What is our journey then?”, Samantha asked.

“Sooooo many questions dear human, yet so little stillness for the answers,” Josephiel puffed out with a bit of morning fire directed at the wood under the coffeepot.

“Hmmmm. So, I should stop asking and wait then?” Samantha scratched her head.

“No, no, noooo.” Vayu howled. “Ask the questions! Ask many, many questions! Listen to the questions. There, inside the question lies the answer. Or the first silver thread leading you to the answer. Inside.”

A gentle snowfall started to fall around the trio.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 8th 2020
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 7. Dec 7th.

Samantha remembered the many times she had spoken to her sister Disa about stuff which just felt “weird”. Like you felt something in your gut, your mind made an interpretation of it which made you feel queasy and awkward. 

Well, right now she could not shake that very feeling.

Her thoughts took her back to a day about a year ago when she’d met up with Marcus for a coffee at the local church café – the only café in the village. 

Over two chai lattes Marcus shared with her how his beloved Star had been acting the past few days – not wanting to come all the way indoors, rather sleeping on the carpet in the hallway than on her specially built own “wolf-couch” which he had constructed for her now that she had entered her “olden” days. It was like she was halfway out of the house which had been her home for the past 12 years. Their home.

Samantha had gotten that feeling,  the uneasy stomach, the rambling legs, the itchy sitting bones, the queasiness. She knew something was not right, something was about to dawn. Change.

She’d told Marcus they’d better drive up to his house immediately.

When they arrived the front door was wide open. Star was nowhere to be seen. They followed her paw prints in the snow. Down past the barn where the three Icelandic ponies stayed during the winter nights. Then up, towards the birch forest which led to the glen at the beginning of the fir tree forest. At the start of what Marcus always called “his path”.

In the now full moon lit opening Star lay on her belly, holding her head up, looking their way, as if she had expecting them for quite some time. Her dark eyes gleaming, the first stars on the sky reflecting back.

Dusk was setting in and it was clear that Star was not well. At least that was Samantha’s interpretation.

She and Marcus kneeled down next to Star. Star looked them deep in the eyes and spoke to them ; 

“It is time for me to leave this dimension now. Merge with all the others. Do not try to follow me. I will be back one day. Maybe in a different shape or form, maybe in the same. Don’t look for me. For if you do you will not see me. Just listen. Listen inside and remember to be wild, to stay wild. Thank you dear Marcus. My soul is calling me home. Even though we have our home together there is a Home much larger than we can fathom. I will go over there and find it. Bring it back.”

The majestic white wolf stood up, licked Samantha’s hands, looked her in the eyes. Then she went over to Marcus. Put her nose on his forehead. Rolled her head to rest on his neck. He grabbed on with both arms. Embraced her. She breathed in to his ears, in to his eyes, she nudged his forehead again and said;

“Be strong my brave warrior. Be fierce. Be Love. Live your life Sacred.”

She turned around, walked with her head down in to the woods in her full wolfness, on to the moonlit Path.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 7th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 6. Dec 6th

Touch. Meeting. Fierceness.

Sacred.

Sacred Touch.

Sacred Meeting.

Sacred Fierceness.

Home.

Marcus was walking between the pine trees. Following path leading from the back of the house up to Beaver Lake. Here he could always take everything in. Listen. Listen to the whispers of his soul. Something his Great Ma had taught him to do.

Great Ma was not his grandmother by bloodline. She was the Grand Mother for everyone living scattered on this large space of land of mountains, streams, lakes, waterfalls, peaks, rocks, woods and wilderness. She was like the moon – always there, always still yet so powerful, always present. She had taught all the kids in school how to listen to The Whispers Of The Soul. 

When she retired from her position as woodwork, arts, crafts and music teacher at the village school she started giving drumming lessons in the village hall on Saturday mornings. Drumming and jojking.

Those Saturday mornings they had learned how to drum the questions, how to listen and then jojk or sing the answers as they came in.

Sacred Touch.

Sacred Meeting.

Sacred Fierceness.

The first two parts had moved in like pieces from a mystic veil. The last part, placed like a statement in the snow.

Marcus kept following the path. Stars started to fill up the sky as the sun disappeared behind the treetops, making way for the moon. He knew he had only scratched the surface. The phrases were an invitation to dig deeper, an instruction to plunge.

Symphonies never took plunges. They had crescendos, build ups, cross overs. Never plunges.

He was afraid that he would lose himself if he plunged. As soon as that insight hit him he stopped, sighed, raised his hands up to catch a few soft snowflakes falling off the pine branches.

“The soul lives in the unknown. It’s never happy, nor supposed to live in the known of the mind. It’s supposed to live in the heart. And the heart can only be fully open when you are open to fall. Fall to Grace. Fall in Love. Fall Over. Fall.”

He heard Great Ma as if she was speaking from the space between the pine needles, the space inside the pine cones.

“Keep walking son. Keep following her footsteps. Remember in your heart where she wanted to go, what she wanted, what gave her joy, what made her strong, what released her, remember and follow that”, the voice spoke to his entire Beingness.

Her name. He had to speak her name out loud to be able to reach that magic again. Why was it so hard to do that?

Home.

He just wanted to call her Home.

He fell to his knees in the snow, laid down on his belly making a snow angel, his face buried in the snow. He rolled over. Lay on his back, caught falling snow flakes with his tongue like when he was a kid, watched the stars, the tops of the firs moving back and forth, back and forth, covering and revealing, covering and revealing.

That was it! Covering and revealing. Covering and revealing!

“Star”.

He spoke her name out loud.

“Star!”

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 6th 2020