In the privacy of your own heart, can you rest there?
Can you listen?
In the privacy of your own heart.
Who is the one beating the drum, dancing the rhythm, weaving the song?
What is its sound ? How does it feel ? What is spoken ? What is revealed ? What is held as true ?
In the privacy of your own heart.
My dear soul, it felt so dark I could not hold a light high enough to see within the privacy of my own heart
Now
the walls are tumbling, the ground is shaking, the heavens are bursting and behind the walls there is gold, under the ground, clay of new earth, in the heavens the green colour of spring, dawn, heart of the seasons of all seasons
The season of return, in the privacy of my own heart.
There is an anchor, only the rope seems too long to allow the boat to settle
in the privacy of my own heart.
In the privacy of your own heart my dear, is you. You. StarBeing. You.
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
The cold, cold mist touched Nejla’s face as she began her morning ceremony. The grass was still wet, the mist felt cleansing. It was nevertheless still too warm. For snow she would have to travel north. To the land of White Buffalo.
It was time to prepare.
He sensed her weaving in the morning shadows. The first threshold she would need to cross was to be-come The Adventurer.
She and The Adventurer were TwinSouls. One soul shared in two Be-ings. Through the mirror portals of others she could see sparks of The Adventurer as she saw flickers of herself. She would need to embody the knowledge that speaks. In every thought, movement and breath. Be-come.
Nejla was ready. She felt nervous, yet she had never felt more ready in her whole life. There was so much clarity in this morning mist. Clarity which last night had started to show its silhouette. It had just been a matter of letting go through Dreamland during the night.
“To sleep on it”, very valuable advice from her grandfather. “To let the night chew and churn away, like the cows alchemizing the grass in to milk”, was how grandpa used to explain it.
That first morning breath held a promise. It whispered “Sacred Fierceness”. She felt the pull of The Adventurer inside her whole Be-ing. All dimensions, all these writings, these tidings were coming together as one.
As she had tiptoed down the stairs on her way for the morning ceremony, noticing the keys in the front door, she had heard a voice saying “I gave you that. All the keys. Now, use them!”
He made his way up the last part of the hill alone. The pups were still sleeping. Mums, dads, brothers and sisters would be waking up gently as soon as the first ray of morning sun touched the Silver Rock. This was to be a journey through the seen and the unseen for her. He wanted to connect his inner eyes to hers.
There it was. The spot where he could peak over the ridge in to the next valley. The valley where what once was a small village had slowly spread out to become a town, now bordering on the definition of city.
A sliver of starlight fell on the rock, reflecting back in to his eyes.
Nejla felt something gently touch her forehead, like a kiss of rain. It felt warm and sparkly.
FlowerOfTheThunderAndLightning 