The trees seem to fall down. Yet they are not. They are buried in deep, deep snow. Dragons dance above like garlands of stars.
It is seven days since they left the Glen, ahead of the morning star.
Up and up and up they went. Through dim top valleys, raging ravines and chest high mountain birch brushes. Over the tops of the Three Wishes. Down the Dark Valley of Hidden Wisdom. Back up the Mountain of Doom.
After the last bend they had all expected to see something entirely different than what was born in front of their eyes up there on the Diamond Step. As they turned that last bend they found themselves where they had only heard about in legends. Right at the “eye” of the Ursa Major . Alioth and Merak pointing the way to the path to Polaris.
“Polaris”, Rosie sighed. “Home”
Alba could feel the word ringing in her heart, in some strong, strange type of harmony. What was that? How could a star so far away yet so close by feel like home? How could this desolate place where their feet were placed feel like home?
“Because it is not desolate my dear Alba”, Rosie said. “Look at all the magic. Look up!”
Magic spun through the wisdom of choice of voice of being
Gold Silver and Granite
Take what is yours Leave the rest behind
The song of the elves, the dragons and reindeer versifying the scenery of snow, trees and stars. Are they creating it as they are singing? At least it feels like that to Alba.
“They are their own creation, all around them is their own creation, they are all what we – or you humans – are learning that you are dear Alba”, Rosie chuckled. “To take responsibility of and now truly be your own creation. That is why Polaris, these mountains, the wilderness feels like home. Because that is what you are and hence you create it and it creates you and so on, love creates what it loves – and hates creates what it hates, which is the other side of the medal in the field of duality – , love recognises it or actually recognises itself and more is created. This is your dream. Where you live and I live, in consciousness in this moment. That is why we are here together. Right here, right now. Let’s get to know more about our fellow beings here in this place!”
Soft, gentle bells swirling through the air. Snowflakes embracing the air.
There’s something about reindeers. Something about mountain goats. There’s something about the star in the sky. Something about The Milky Way. There’s something about light studded on a velvety clear sky. Something about mist and steam and ice and water. There’s something about waking up. Something about magic. There’s something about rest. Someting about taking stock. About making space. About clearing. About giving. About receiving.
Giving and Receiving is the same action, she told me last year. The Law of Reciprocity is something entirely different. Obligation versus living. What would you choose?
“Giving and Receiving is living under The Law of Abundance”, she brings across from the other side.
Abundance as a Law? Now, that’s a new concept all together.
“The sky, the reindeers, Orion, North Star, the mountain goats, the mist and steam and ice and water. Waking up in the morning. Rest and taking stock. Space. That is all Abundance right there. Living under The Law of Abundance simply means recoginizing that. Recognizing that everything you connect with is there. Right there. In the abundance of life. You can see it, hear it, feel it, taste it, smell it, even imagine it. That.”
Like the snowy white water dragon she puffs through the veils. She is there, with Space. She is here, in these keys on the keyboard. She’s in the voice thinking, typing, singing. She is.
Water Dragon, Space Dragon, Winter Dragon.
How did the wolves get celestial this year?
“Because of magic, my child. Because the energy of the world is held by dragons this time year this season. Because the wolves are you. Protected and enlightened by the dragons. What that means in practice is to come. Just be open these coming forthnights. Be aware and be open.”
“The space between space is who you are, is where you are. Right there, in the space of the space between space. Feel it! Can you sense it? Can you hear it? Can you step in to it?”
The voice was like a hymn being carried through the glistening landscape of ice and sunshine.
Of course she could feel it! But how do you step in to something which is already there? Something which has always been there? Something which will always be there?
“It’s a just a matter of disconnect and reconnect”, the voice seemed arrive through the candles in the window.
She moved closer to the house at the end of the road. The dancing flames of the 14 armed chandeliers seemed to be the source of this knowing voice.
Who lives here? Whose house is it?
She had walked past many times in fall when she was out foraging for mushrooms and the last berries of the season, but never had she noticed this cottage. Grey logs stacked on top of each other in the most exquisite way, red painted window frames, fir-smelling smoke coming out of the chimney dancing in the same rhythm as the candles in the window. A gleaming sled leaning against the porch.
As she passed the mailbox she noticed a little sign just underneath the lid. What name was on there? Trinity leaned in to read.
“The Blue Wizard”
The Blue Wizard? Was that a company name? Or some sort of artist name?
The front door blew open the same nanosecond she finished her train of thought, or train of questions. A Gandalf like figure stood in the opening, royal blue robes, long grey and white braided beard, embroidered hat on his head. He smiled and waved at her.
“What took you so long Trinity?”
How could he know her? And how could he possibly know her newly acquired name?
“This is not the time of playing small my dear Trinity”, Wizard chuckled as he greeted her. “It is the time to relax and be yourself”.
Wasn’t that an oxymoron?
“Absolutely not”, the Wizard replied as if she had spoken her thoughts out loud. “This is the secret instruction for everything in these times, this very time of the year, this very year. It is not the time to be playing small. It is the time to relax and be yourself. Just let that sink in for a while over some pine tea and saffron nut bread with us here in the stables behind the house.”
Golden feathers, grey and warm. Dust falling off old souls and ashbins.
She, The One Queen from the other side of the veil. The brown-eyed, sacred fierce one, white and grey. She massed about the keys, the LightSisters, the Sacred Fierceness.
Could it be that the LightSisters are the keys? That Sacred Fierceness is the embodiment?
Trinity noticed the candle burning faster than time could possibly be moving, while the snow fell backwards outside.
“It’s all just perspectives, experiences. You decide what importance, what priority, what charge you dedicate to these. That is free will my dear. The one popes and men in hats tried to shove down our throats embedded in damp and stinky old parchments instead of letting us sing it out loudly”, The Gentle One with the Burning Heart spoke through the veil.
The two sisters sat there together. Watching Trinity.
In an instant Trinity realized she was not to walk in their footsteps. She was to allow their essence, knowing, wit, power, peace, bravery, love, fierceness, wholeness, gentleness, kindness, holiness, passion and full presence to walk in her every footstep. Creating her own footsteps.
“In those keys you also find all your knowing. We embodied them and now we lead you in turning the very same keys. Opening and closing. Closing and opening. Being aware of what is opening and closing, closing and opening. Consciously choosing what to open and what to close comes next, by its own accord. You can’t be conscious about being conscious before you are conscious about being conscious so to say”, The Gentle One smiled in that way only someone with a true GrandMother heart could.
“We have not gone anywhere. We are here. Right here. Nowhere else. Here. Always. Call on us, sing our names, dance our being. Those are the moves which make the strings on the lyre of life, a.k.a magic, resonate. Resonate and create. No more vibration as a reaction, so called backwater reaction resonance. Let your creation have a harmonious backwater resonance. Be you.”
“Moon and Star. Star and Moon. Moonlight. Dreams and dances. That is why I am here. That is why I keep nipping at your hands. I want them to weave, play, knit and orchestrate. Orchestrate Harmony”, The Young One looked at Trinity with the eyes of ancient wit.
Starlight.
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
If I am really honest, in my heart of hearts I
will soar like a bird,
touching the snow covered mountain tops.
I will run downhill
paws deep in the mud,
grass
and moss
like a wolf,
chased by the wind, embraced by
moving space,
scents, a whiff
on a hunt
not for food but
for play,
for life,
for joy.
If I am really honest, in my heart of hearts I
will sing to the dawn, dance
in the shadows of morning
and eve.
I will not
succumb to this mediocre
numbness of
sitting
not to be sitting but
to be seated
where someone put you.
If I am really honest,
in my heart of hearts there is
no resistance,
no pull,
no push,
no tug,
no moving,
without purpose.
Like a reed in the wind,
its movement its purpose.
If I am really honest,
in my heart of hearts I will
throw out all the blankets,
the cushions,
the pillows and
their safety-nets.
In there, in my heart of hearts
is she,
her,
it,
them,
this,
whatever opens,
whatever closes
holding a candle,
enjoying the flickering of the
light,
the wind,
the rain,
the snow,
the sea,
the cold,
the sun,
the wintery, wintery skies.
If I am really honest, in my heart
of hearts
that mountaintop
is my home,
those woods my
backyard, my pantry
that river, my blood.
I sit there,
having chosen
to sit there
myself.
I live there.
Having chosen to live there
myself.
I breathe there,
having chosen to be there,
myself
In my heart of hearts.
Cecilia Götherström, April 23rd 2022
“Underneath the Christmas Lights, Underneath the Christmas Lights, Underneath the Christmas Lights”, Sia’s Christmas album streamed out of the speakers through Spotify.
Nejla looked out through the guest bedroom window towards the large enclosed space especially built for the dogs at the back of Ricky and Luca’s home.
Starlight was digging ferociously underneath the very Christmas Lights, or more specifically underneath the pine tree living in the corner of the enclosure which had been decorated with coloured Christmas lights. Her tail was fanning more than wagging, which was a sign of hunting. Nejla had better get out there and stop her before whoever was in deep winter sleep got woken up.
Grabbing her beanie with one hand, pulling her mushing boots on with the other, she simultaneously reached for the doorknob with her elbow which resulted in her tumbling out the door, rolling down the two steps of the porch, face planting in the snow. Well, at least she was wide awake now.
“Starlight, Starlight my dear. Come on! Stoooooooop!”
Starlight stopped, turned her head to look at her human. Two seconds later she turned back to the digging.
“Aaaaaaahhhh, huskies!” Nejla shouted as she ran through the knee deep snow.
As if they wanted to prove that this was not just a husky trait but also a samoyed and malamute talent, Kriya and Tuva ran from the other side of the yard joining Starlight in the digging.
All of a sudden they stopped, all three of them. Stepped back, looked down in the hole they’d dug, then across at Nejla who had stranded in a spot where the snow was all of a sudden waist deep to catch her breath, and then they looked back down in the hole again.
Nejla felt like she was swimming through the last part of the snow. It was just a dune of two metres width where the wind had piled up a solid wave of snow which was that deep before it was back to knee depth again. She arrived underneath the Christmas Lights Tree, threw herself on her knees, looking down in the hole together with the three canine ladies.
“Was that? No, she must be imagining? Could it be? Well it did. Did look like gold. But, no, it can’t be?”
Starlight pushed towards the hole with her nose, looking at Nejla, her eyes saying “look, look, look what I got you!”
Nejla reached down under the pine tree twigs, down towards the exposed part of the trunk, her lovika mitten clad hands spread out, gently grabbing and pulling the artifact out of the snow. As she held it up towards the dwindling light of the afternoon sky all three ladies of The Crew watched eagerly. Nejla gently blew the last pieces of soft snow off the edges. A cauldron. A golden cauldron.
Alabaster sunk his paws deep in to the snow. He’d been up on the rocks, peeking down once more towards Pinehome City.
They were all together now. Nejla, Starlight, Tuva, Kriya, Ricky and Luca.
He could see them through his inner eyes. The two humans sitting on the floor by the Christmas tree. Sharing stories. Laughing. Remembering.
All four dogs sprawled out across the large kitchen floor.
What had once been the “Grand” waiting room in this timber wood train station building from the 1800s was now Ricky’s kitchen.
Alabaster made his way down, returning to the pack. How he loved these moments of approaching, feeling the warmth in his heart, connecting through the golden threads to his brothers, sisters, all the pups. Watching every single personality doing their thing while being in total harmony with the entire canine family.
Sure, they could growl and show off, change, walk off, start anew, return, explore. But that was because that is how things just are. If everyone is allowed to live out their purpose, harmony is what you get. And harmony includes storms, floods, falling trees, new growth.
You use the mind, heart, and soul, leading the body to the best possible solution for the highest good of all.
When you exist in a state of awareness where greed does not exist, you see everything through the eyes of Isa. The eyes of Isness.
He realized he’d let his mind wander in to the human domain again as he felt four youngsters rolling around him, asking for attention, nipping at his legs and paws.
“Come play, come play, Grandpapa Alabaster!”, they howled like a four octave choir.
“OK then!” Alabaster took off down the slope, zigzagging, jumping, rolling. Four young furballs falling over in his paw steps, doing their best to catch up.
A few of the packs hunters had just gotten back from their recon trip and joined in.
If you’ve ever seen a group of eight adult and four “just-out-of-puppyhood” wolves play on deep snow covered slope under the moon, star and sun lit winter morning sky, you know exactly what I am talking about.
Joy, aliveness, speed and wit dancing around in your heart.
Nejla sat with her hands wrapped around a fresh cinnamon scented oat milk cappuccino, in what felt like another dimension.
The Crew – her band name for Tuva, Kriya and Starlight – lay sprawled out and curled up between the crackling open fire place and the front door.
The blizzard had quietened down. Now there were just grey, plump clouds dropping snowflakes in a dancing slow motion.
Ricky sat at the sturdy wooden table across from Nejla. How she and The Crew had ended up this close to Pinehome with the train was beyond her comprehension.
One moment they had been engulfed by the blizzard. Which was not a bad thing. There were few things she loved more than the cold wind and snow touching her cheeks.
“Embrace! Embrace! Embrace! Align!” had travelled through her mind. As she said the spell out loud she had felt very powerful from within.
Seconds later , the sound of someone whistleing, followed by The Crew howling in reply. A black labrador appeared as the sun broke through the storm making the snow flurry dissipate.
“Dio!”, Nejla could not believe her eyes. “Dio! Where is Ricky?”
“Here!”, Ricky’s voice reached her before she could even see him approaching on skis. “Welcome to Buffalo Land!” He almost fell forwards as he swung his arms up to greet her with a hug which made the skis move backwards. “Soulsister, soulsister. So good to see you.”
“So, what really brought you here this time, sister dear?” Ricky reached for the sugar. He liked his coffee sweet to the point of it being sugar with a bit of coffee.
“The Adventurer. Storulven. Spells.” Nejla shrugged her shoulders. “Not entirely sure, but it’s definitely something to do with those three. And maybe more. I felt, and feel, instructed to take one step at a time, not envisioning anything behind those steps, just listening. I know this was big one. I had some sort of inner knowing telling me I had to go north, in the direction of White Buffalo Land. So, here we are.”
“Here we are”, Ricky echoed. “Listening to the light.”
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 