How to love some-one,
How to love some-thing
How to
How can we
when
the world is whirling around us
and we whirl with
it
How to love some-one
We stop.
We stare.
The stare becomes looking
The looking becomes watching
Watching with gentler, widening eyes
Watching with nostrils wide
open
Watching with inner ears
listening
Listening from the soul
It just happens
When we
stop.
Right there, then,
in the stopping
we see the eternal moving
dripping its life essence
into the blood of our breath
Right there,
right in front of us,
above,
below,
in the middle,
to all sides
Love,
as a gentle breeze
and a powerful force,
moving
moving in the stillness
the stillness of our being
There it is.
Love.
Adventure.
Stillness.
Love, adventure, stillness.
We know it not by name,
We know it by knowing
- Cecilia Götherström, Sep 12th 2022
Or no, not stuck, just sluggishly proceeding, Nejla corrected herself mid thinking.
“Totally fascinating how deep many thought patterns are. You slip in to them without noticing, then you react and only then do you realise it is too late”, she spoke out loud to herself.
“What is too late?” Ricky asked.
“I guess nothing is too late”, Nejla realized as she replied. “We can always go back and change. We can always connect again and think or say or do what we really meant, not what our old patterns meant. I believe I have come to understand that this is actually what evolving in life is all about. Dropping the masks, gently tearing down the walls and owning what we need to release and uncover. Going back to those we dropped our reaction on, including when that one is ourselves at times, rephrasing, repairing. Through that we not only heal our patterns but we also heal the other being across from us as we throw out a bridge of loving rainbowlight through that very act. Does that sound weird or mushy?”
“Nothings mushy in the life of a musher!”, Ricky couldn’t help himself, slapping his knees, laughing at his own joke.
Soft, gentle chello like music drifted through the air, swirling around the mountaintops, dropping in and out of the crevasses, dancing, mixing, transforming. The full moon travelled across the heavens. No hurry. Just gently journeying.
“Do you know that command on the computer when everything seems to be out of whack?” Nejla looked across at Ricky as she moved the dogs from the sleds to the stakeout.
“Force Quit, you mean?”, Ricky was half way head down and half his torso in to the Cargo Basket, getting the dogs meals out.
“Yes!”, Nejla enthusiastically replied. “It feels like the spell will work just like “Force Quit”. When things are stuck, just hanging there, solidly glued in the same warp you need a “Force Quit” right?”
“Right as rain”, Thor budged in and replied.
“Starlight, Starlight, Comets and Void. Be bright. Shine clear”.
Lyrics were forming to the swirling music.
Nejla looked over at Starlight. Their eyes met. In that moment Nejla realized that Starlight’s very eyes looked just like that – starlight. Why had she not seen that before? Furthermore, Starlights red and white fur reflected the starlight from above as well as the frozen starlight they rested upon. Was it Starlight singing as she gently howled or was it the crevasses?
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.”
“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.”
Love stronger than water.
Love stronger than ice.
Love more solid than rocks,
than meteorites
sparkling, splitting, hitting
this Earth,
emanating it with
Love, Love, Love.
That Fierceness,
That Fierceness between your shoulder blades,
move it forward,
move it to your heart,
let it blaze that beam out,
of Star
of Love
of Sacred, sacred Love
of Fierceness
of Power
of Song
of Celebration
of Connection unsurpassed.
In honour of the two of us,
nothing breaks Star
or her Star,
nothing stops that beam,
that straight
straight
bridge
of solid Love,
of heart cracked open,
exploded
into splinters.
Making space.
Space.
For all that is
and was
and wishes to be.
To rest.
Rest in that Space.
Eternally.
As it already is.
Feel it,
Sense it,
Receive it.
Let it explode.
Do not hold back.
Star.
A power so strong.
No darkness can
Withhold the fierce force of
Light.
Star.
Beam.
Beam of StarLight.
Straight out through your heart.
In to mine.
In to All that Is.
All that We Are.
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.
Dawn Gloria MorningStar stood at the banks where the river met the ocean. Where the sweet water met the salt water. Where everything merged before her very eyes.
The Northern Lights were playing in the skies again this night. They had been truly blessed with many Aurora Borealis dances these past weeks.
Star sat a little higher up the slope, overlooking the human and her hearts guide Meru at the riverbank.
”It feels like everything is a river Meru”, Dawn said. ”Everything just flows and amounts to nothingness, disappearing in the nothingness of the ocean. Like nothing really matters.”
”My dear, wise, melancholic child”, Meru looked right into her eyes. ”The nothingness is the everythingness, the limitlessness. It might feel frightening at times but it’s not disappearing, it’s appearing. First you need to allow yourself to flow with the river, to move closer to the banks when the river appears too wild for you, to move from the quieter side flows in to the midst of the river when you feel stagnation knocking on your hearts door. Travel conciously from mountain to ocean, allow yourself to experience all of it. Make your way through the open plains above the treeline, through the narrow passages between the rocks, past and around roots, pebbles, sand and earth. Merge, merge, merge. Be a drop a water, ascending with the warm air. Journey with the clouds. Drop down on the glacier. Become a beautiful, beautiful frozen crystal. Flow with the river again. All metaphorical, yet literal. Sense what matters to you, choose what matters to you. Know yourSelf.”
Star sighed, got up on her front paws, adjusted her posture. She had heard their whole conversation. She felt so strongly for this human. For her pack. Of which the human was a distinct part by now. Because, yes, they were all her pack. The Mother. The Crown. The Togetherer. That was Star. Her role. She was. Meru spoke. Craft embodied. Red was the music between them all. Blue the dance.
The Medicine Wheel was still laid out on the pebble beach. Right in the centre of it Wizard was standing, staff and cloak making him look quite regal. Silver White, the powerful grey stallion, was right there with Wizard. Surrounded by the pinecones and moonstones they both looked like they were exactly where they belonged. Home.
DragonWhite and Elo were accompanying the elves, fairies and Nisse on their way to the village in the valley. It was time for them all to unveil with soft silver-sparkle.
”Why does my heart feel so heavy, Meru?” Dawn asked her heartfriend.
”Because everything has to end for something new to begin. Because for the first time ever you will let go for real. Fully. And your heart knows enduring and holding on better than it knows welcoming. Don’t push the heaviness away. Let it move through your heart, like this water in front of us, washing yourself ready for the welcoming my dear.”
The fragile tunes of the mantra weaved through his dreams, like ornaments of stardust. He was floating, soaring, above a room. Everyone present dressed in white. White roses, dark green leaves, adorning a white coffin. A funeral.
His own?
He heard himself thinking “That’s a beautiful tune for the beginning of the ceremony”.
The whole place filled with people seemingly angelic in presence. What was going on here?
“Bilap karay chaatrik kee ni-aa-ee”
“I miss you Beloved”, he sensed himself thinking in this dreamlike state. Then he seemed to fade away in to the starlight.
A comet across the morning sky. It appears to land further down the pebble beach. He is drifting in and out of different dream states, not sure of what is real.
The comet had indeed landed. It was however not a comet.
Star felt the slippery, icy, black pebbles underneath her paw pads. She turned her nose in all directions, greeting each cardinal direction with its own symbol, followed by its own growl.
Then she sensed him. Further up the rim of the water she could discern something moving up and down, the rhythm of a breath. Smoke from every exhalation pouring out over the almost frozen sea. The bundle whom lay there breathing was out of tune. She could feel that clearly. Next to it rested layers of moss.
Wizard!
Thank heavens she had found him before anyone else did! Had the moon been up he’d been taken away by the veils hours ago. With Sleeping Moon he’d been left in peace.
Why did watching him sleep make her think of an ancient funeral pyre?
The old had to be revered, reviewed, ceremonial movements honouring it. It had to be dressed in white, taken down to the river leading out into the endless ocean, sent off into the void, fire lit.
That is what was going on. The old wizard was transmuting the whole thing, the whole legend, in his sleep. Did he ever not work?
There. Morning Star was rising. Moon was coming back up through the horizon.
Star was standing next to him now. Breathing on his cold feet to wake him up gently. When proved fruitless she dug her large fangs into the pile of moss, gripping the staff with her jaws, shaking it to shake him awake.
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 