I have come to love another country, that which was not mine, is truly mine
I have come to lose what I love and love what I lost
You should never go back to what you left, people say
You should always move forwards
Are we not moving all the time though?
Backwards, forwards, upwards, downwards, sideways, diagonally, round and round, in a spiral we are trying to grasp, or not, called life? Is it not just to be lived?
It should not feel like punishment, a heartstring mother of all told me.
Sacred Fierceness, she is.
It does. This feels like punishment.
So leave, my love, leave. Touch down to bounce up.
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.
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.
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!
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 