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
“This is the tale of Moon and Star. This is the season of no stone left unturned. This is the time of your ripe uncovering”.
Starlight speaks.
“You are thinking too much. “This is the tale of Moon and Star”. This is what we are living right now. Moon and Star. Star and Moon.
The surroundings might feel the same, but they are not. They never are.
Rather than reflecting what you don’t want, what you don’t want to see, what is missing, just turn the crystal diamond shape a few degrees. Watch it reflect what you want, what you do want to see with your inner heart’s eyes glistening back all the abundance truly surrounding you.
Express the abundance. Acknowledge it. Let it know that you see it; Thank you house, thank you floor, thank you shoes, thank you windows, thank you health, thank you richness of heart, thank you richness of being, thank you for all possibilities out there, thank you!”
““This is the season of no stone left unturned”. Be curious. Look under every stone. Invite the dragons in to move the stones with you. Discover the moss, the rest, the holding, the fertile darkness where you can. Diligently and intentionally plant all the seeds you want. Give them a chance! Speak them in to being. Wide eyes my child, wide eyes.”
“”This is the time of your ripe uncovering”. The time is ripe for the true uncovering. You know the power of words. You know the movement, the energy body, the dance of magic spheres, the treasure chest on the inside. Now you speak it. Now you live it. Now. This is the time.”
22,2 degrees south.
““The 22nd parallel South is a circle of latitude crossing the Atlantic Ocean, the Indian Ocean, Australasia, and South America”, Wikipedia says . It is thus a circle woven by ancient, indigenous and tribal knowledge, creatures of the deep oceans and endless skies, rainforests, deserts, coast, plains, mountains, jungles, forests, beaches. All which symbolizes freedom of the heart for you. Under a slightly different sky then your North Star sky. Yet it does have Starlight. Sirius.”
Amethyst and wizards tones. A little bit more of the link to the moon and the scent of tender winter eve. A piece of mesmerized rock crystal. Along with a sprinkle of Starlight.
OK, that’s it, that should be all she needed.
Trinity was packing.
A bundle for the journey ahead.
The bell rang. Who is it this time of the morning? What could they possibly want? The last thing she needed was some nosy neighbour or uninvited family member interfering with her peace. A peace she had not felt for a long, long time. A peace she thought had left for good.
There the bell rang again. Or did it really ring? It was more like the sound of a distant gong. She went to the front door, opened it up gently, peaked outside. No sun yet, just a starry sky, a waning moon at the horizon and a still quiet.
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh….. the sound of something dragging in the snow.
Her infinity bracelet dropped off her wrist, fell deep into the snow. She bent down to pick it up and as she looked up a white rabbit was sitting in the opening where the gate had once been. It looked her right in the eyes, swooshed towards her, touched its nose to hers, turned around and swooshed off in to the distance.
Trinity stood up. What had just happened?
Her hands were freezing cold after digging for the bracelet in the snow, she needed to get in and warm them up. As she passed the mirror in the hallway she noticed that the tip of her nose seemed covered in silver sparkles. She stopped. Went back to take a closer look and realized her eyelashes and the top of her ears were covered in the same silver dust. As she touched the tip of her nose, the top of her ears and blinked she couldn’t feel anything different, no material or substance other than nose, eyelashes and ears. Yet the silver sparkle dust was there.
She had to get going. Her schedule was very clear. The Night Owl had told her to leave at exactly 06:06 , heading 22,2 degrees south. She had 2 more minutes to go.
Compass in hand, she locked the door behind her. Was this the last time?
The direction given seemed to followed the swooshsteps of the hare.
“Out there, out there! Get out there!”, a white feathered owl hohooed above her head as she headed through the opening of the gate that once was.
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
She is teaching me
how
to love again,
how to
thaw
that coldness,
how to
trust,
through gentleness,
not forcing
She is teaching me
that
hail
is just frozen water,
that
Christmas
is in your heart,
not in a tree,
or in snow
on the ground
She is teaching me
that you can,
you should
love,
even when
your heart
seems
to be breaking
She is teaching me
to listen,
to listen,
to listen
especially when
you don’t want to
She is teaching me
about lineage,
connection,
unbroken threads
of life
weaving unbound
in to
each other
She is teaching me
about
Starlight,
remembering
gingerbread songs
in honour of the two of us
being
always
left
unbroken
She is teaching me
to be
here,
now,
in the storm,
in the power,
in the stillness
She is teaching me
her
ways
And I
I
get
to learn
Starlight
- Trinity
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
This focus on negativity exhausted her. Like you were living in a minefield with fighter jets above your head.
How to vibe higher than this?
How to? How to? How to?
Practice, practice, practice.
“I’ll be home for Christmas”, the speakers toned out.
What is home? And why be there just for Christmas?
Home is your own truth. Home is where you are loved and where you love. Home is where your being is sheltered.
Christmas is a state of mind. A consciousness, where giving and receiving is the same action. Where Christ consciousness is massed.
Where all is gentle, all is seen, all is held. In the one and the same cauldron. In the one and the same shift. Where you don’t look for meaning, where meaning is.
This, that , all, everywhere.
In this time of coldness of souls the hearth is the star in the heart. The play. The ferocity. The calling in of dragons. Of Sacred Fierceness.
White looked at Grey. Grey looked at White. Together they were balance. Harmony.
What steps do we need to take for Harmony? How can we kindle her? How can we leap in to her embrace every morning, be her, live her?
Harmony and Kindness. Kindness and Harmony.
“It’s all a little too much right now. Sprinkle it all with some harmony, kindness and coffee and you will be way on your way child, way on your way.”
She called in the Angels. She called in Source Light. Realizing that you call in what already exists within you, that which if you don’t voice and sound it , the powers, the source, the light cannot act. They can only shine. And if you are blind to their light you cannot receive the reflection of that light in your heart. In your star.
The angels said “Let us hold you, let us bow over you, lift you from underneath, surround you, love you, hold you. All you need to do is ask. Ask and surrender.”
“I surrender”. She folded forwards in a bow, a prayer, like a feather flowing to the ground, lightly resting there. “No more fighting. No more. I am done. Done fighting. Done resisting. Done.”
“You are that which you Are”, the angels sang. “ A part of Source Light. Nothing else. The rest is just a coat. A coat of many colours.”
She saw a diamond. A diamond with all its facets. The light shone through. It touched the inside. The inside reflected back. The outside reflected the inside back.
“Where the light comes from is not important. When you feel encumbered by shadow, sit in that light,” the Northern Lights swooshed their song her way. Diamonds and crystals of white, green and purple faceting their way through the skies.
The angels widened their circles. Their light became one with the beaming sky in the darkness.
“Without darkness, no fluorescence. In this dark season all can be folded in, embraced, loved, let go of where needed. Life is one big inhale and exhale. Life is one big expansion and contraction. Its energy is light. Its outcome is light. The deeper the winter dark, the stronger the magic, the stronger the light.”
She exhaled. She sighed. Gave herself to the earth. Done.
A wet little nose against hers. A puppy tongue licking her face, sharp little teeth testing the boundaries on her nose. Love.
She is here. Winter.
Glimmer in her eyes.
Joy in her soul.
Soulfulness.
Glowing breath, sparkle of life.
Winter.
Welcome.
The Star abides in the sky.
The sky in the heart.
The heart is the sky.
The sky is the heart.
The Star its All.
The Silver Grail speaks. Like clear crystal waters.
No bearing.
No beginning.
No end.
Only the eternal Now. This moment where everything matters. Where everything is present. In the no-thing.
Nothing can be broken. Everything is whole. The outer shells can shatter, can leak. The pieces might break in to more pieces. Yet they do not exist. They are fragments of a self which spoke itself in to existence. On the first day of winter.
Let the pieces disperse. Do not gather them. Let the wind blow, let it sweep. Do not hold on to. Open up. Sit. See. Wait.
Let the silence speak, whisper. Listen.
Transmissions of Starlight.
Know your worth.
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
Moon and Star. Star and Moon.
The first language was song.
The first language was light.
Eclectic.
She shone in my shadow and I shone in hers.
Always.
Shadow and Light. Light and Shadow.
Moon and Star. Star and Moon.
Clouds swirling consciously around the unconscious brain. Tides resisting the glow.
The old, the dark, the grey. To be lifted forever.
It will be painful they said.
But what is pain?
It is what you feel when you don’t shine your light.
Star and Moon. Moon and Star.
The crescent uncovered. The sparkle looking down, connecting.
Clouds dancing.
Cold, yet not cold enough.
Wet, murky, rotten.
Waiting for the true embrace bywinter.
Will it come? Will it ever come again?
The magic of sparkle.
Of the here and now.
Of taking new direction while simultaneously being direction.
Moon and Star. Star and Moon.
Sharing the same sky, the same heavens. Being light. Being song. Being magic. Being direction. Being.
Being Star. Being Moon.
The first language is still song. The first language is still light.
Moon and Star. Stars and Moon.
Like pearls being born through filigree silver and Milky Way woven grandeur, like horses and unicorns swooshing through the green clouds of the Northern Lights with its purple shades dancing above the snow covered peaks and steppes, Moon and Star dance through the dark velvet seeing All and Every-thing.
Sometimes the shadows come out to make sure you remember.
Star and Moon. Moon and Star.
Always remember.
Always.
Live now.
The sun sets and rises.
The moon travels.
The Star adorns.
The Trinity.
Sun. Moon. Star.
This is the tale of Moon and Star. This is the season of no stone left unturned. This is the time of your ripe uncovering.
Sun. Moon. Star.
Sun is Star.
Star is Sun.
Moon is reflection.
Star and Moon. Moon and Star.
What will be will be.
What is, is.
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
She closed her eyes to the world, like she had closed her heart to the world too many years before. The world was not what she needed and the world did not need her.
Well, not the real her anyway.
What the world seemed to need was the one she could never be. The one she had tried to be. The one she had done her best to live up to. Which had never been enough.
She closed her eyes and promised to never look back. Only to look inwards. Following the symbols and the keys. Passing through doors new and old over and over again. Inner doors and inner dimensions.
What is out there is what is out there yet it’s not out there.
To see for real you have to fly with your eyes wide shut. So that your souls eyes are held open. Letting the silence speak like the Northern Lights sing. Stalling your gaze on that magnificence. That magnificence your being truly is.
When you walk down to the river’s edge where the white , crisp ice meets the dark lava coloured bottomless water and you peer in to the depths only to see the reflections of endless space, multitudes of stars and galaxies undiscovered. Then.
When you are there, and you lean a little further over the filigreed edge, and you look in to two deep, brown eyes, adorned by a silver grey mane, a large white muzzle, you realize that you are looking at a reflection of that unicorn which is you.
You pull back.
You look again.
Nothing has changed.
Or has everything changed?
The silver grey hair now adorns a woman dressed in white swirling lace and crystal studded layers dancing in the windless night to the rhythm of the Northern Lights.
“Be what you want to be, dive deep in to your true desires and be only that”, the wind which was not there, whispered.
She opened her eyes.
“See what is not there”, the whispers continued.
The first snow had started to fall. Out there, past the frosty grass, across the dunes, over the beach, a butterfly spread its wings.
“Don’t be afraid of completing your transformation even if tomorrow could be your last day. It’s all in the hands of you”.
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 