wizard

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Transmissions of Starlight / 16, 17

“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.”

Stables?

Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022

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Transmissions of Starlight / 10 

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.

Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022

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Elsa’s Song, Dec 11th 2021

“What forces were at work here?

White Light, White Wizards, White Dragons, White Wolves? The light was so bright there was no darkness to be seen. That did however not mean there was no shadow. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow. Without contrasts there would be nothing to perceive in the centre. 

Laws of Nature. The term had been coined by biologists, scientists, far removed from nature in their mind, close in heart, connections blocked by overactive frontal lobes.

Prakriti, another word for Nature. Another understanding. Ancient one. 

Laws of The Cosmos. 

Oneness.”

Nejla sat with The Crew in Ricky’s and Luca’s garden after the morning sledding, having one of her inner conversations with Storulven. Even though the days were shorter and darker this far north during this time of year the light from the sun and the reflection back from the earth was extremely intense.

Close to six months ago the light had been close to this intense for some time, just after the summer solstice. The shadows had fallen differently, the green on the trees had had a different shade. The light had even made people crossing a zebra crossing seem etheric, close to see-through, which felt pretty scary as you approached in your car.

“All of these “laws” have the same origin.”, Storulven’s voice and presence spoke.

“Oneness. The centre point. Venture further in one of the directions and you feel just a little more distant from it. Venture further and you feel further distant. The thing is though that these connections and combinations are countless – picture a Metatron’s cube, all the intersections and connections are roads to pods of sister and brotherhoods, which in turn all are inter-braided with the roads to the centre point.

You can travel this map with any vibration. You can discover, circle, search, find, feel lost, be found and never, ever do you lose the connection.

“In the beginning was the Word”. Creation was spoken in to being. Sung in to being. Every song, every stanza, every sutra, every word you speak is creation, is creating. How you receive words, songs, light, all vibrations, is creation too.

So, you chose which forces you want to create with. No matter what forces you might perceive being at work here, you choose. You call in the forces you resonate with.

See, all these words – resonance, vibration, sound, echo, light…. I can go on. Same source. From the book of instructions on how to connect in to the centre point. The space. The void. You might travel to the Akashic Records to read the book. You might unlock your heart to read the book. Or, you might become The Adventurer and become The Instruction.”

Cecilia Götherström, December 11th 2021  

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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 16th

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She was wondering. When was she Red? When was she Way? Why could she not understand the human heart?

She’d spent so much time around the village and the farms in the valley. She’d followed hikers and hunters up and down the mountain. She could feel their loneliness, their longing for something outside of themselves without knowing the button to push for connection lay inside of them. Even the ones that did know got caught up in that outside – ness anyway.

“Way”, Meru said. “The outsideness, that is when you are Red. The inner business, that is when you are Way. But actually you are Way The Red. Just like I am Meru The Grey. Just like Craft  is Craft The Black, Star is Star The White, Charm is Charm The Blue Little Pup –  who will grow up to be Charm The Great Blue Sparkle, the wolf who watches over the oceans. When all aspects come together, that is when we Are.”

The whole wolf pack lay curled up just outside the opening of the Silent Rocks.

Craft got up and said “It would be nice to stay here for a few days. Just hang. Share. Walk together. Be together. Just rest in all the different ways one can rest.”

“I am all in for that brother dear”, Star almost sang as she placed herself where she could look up at them all. “I guess the choice is Red’s. She’s the one with all the questions today.”

“We stay”, Red replied. “Just stay. Right here. It can be our base for now, right?”

They all howled, agreeing.

Wizard poked his head out through the opening of The Silent Rocks. “What’s all this I hear? Staying put here? But, but, but what about all the stories to be written, all the magic to be done?”

Meru walked across, nudging Wizard in the face with his snout.

“We will walk, we will sing, we will weave and tell and build and transmute just by being all that which we are. You’re a wizard for crying out loud! You do the magic, we do the rest”, his wolf-laughter taking over.

“Ok, ok, ok Meru, I know you know me better than myself”. Wizard laughed along. “Remaining here it is. Sharing space is the truest cauldron for magic . I am getting really excitedly happy just thinking about it actually.”

“Yohohoooooo! Whaaazzzzuuuuup!?” Blue rolled out of the cave, tumbling down the gentle slope. Dazzled, squinting at everyone with his sparkly eyes. “Did I hear the word magic?”

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 16th 2019

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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 10th

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 ”Stop, stop, stooooop! Aouch! This caftan is about to rip to pieces if you don’t stop!”

Wizards body had started convulsing in a strange way first. Star knew that if she were to stop shaking the large wand right now she would hurt him more than if she continued.

His whole face had started turning a very deep shade of blue. She had to get him back to the silvery white shade. She kept on rattling, growling, only listening to the ssssing of the aurora borealis and nothing else.

Boom! Thug! Patsch!

Wizard was lifted up in the air. Vertical. Twisting, turning, swaying for a while. Slowly floating just above the treetops.

Star put the wand, now forever marked by her fangs, down. She looked up. The Milky Way seemed to move. She gently howled as if she was whispering, scanning the morning sky with her eyes. The shimmery movement came closer, the shape of a white dragon taking form as it breathed a cloud of softness underneath the feet of Wizard, allowing him to gently descend, feet landing on the pebble beach.

”What is this?” he shook his head, tousled hair flaying in the wind, beard moving along. ”What is going on? Why are you jerking me out of a very important interdimensional job?”

”Because your even more important interdimensional task is right here. In this valley. At this water. With all of us. Pinecones and Moonstones, remember?”

”Pincecones and Moonstones? Already ? I mean, we have waited many different time measurements for this. I just hoped it would not be yet.”

Wizard looked Star directly in the eyes, waved to the dragon who  had just landed on the island just at the outlet of the fjord. ”And pinecones and moonstones are just the beginning….”

Star shifted forwards, gently put her nose in his palm, her way of giving a cuddle.

”Wolves and Wizards always meet at the dawn, the old legends sing my old friend. This time Wolves and Wizards will meet with Dawn”.

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 10th 2019

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Kringlans Kalender / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 7th

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“Mera Man Lochai gur darshan taa-ee”

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.

 

Mera Man Lochai

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 7th 2019

 

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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 5th

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His shrivelling hands reached up to the skies. The nine falling stars met the node of his staff. A flash of lightning, a scream of connection, the wind ceased blowing and the earth whispered for a little while.

The wizard stepped down from his stone. Tired. Weary. He should be happy. Should be fulfilled. He was too tired to feel anything. He needed to lie down.

Crawling,  his hands searched for  the softest stones on the pebble beach. The waves were gently caressing the rocks. No tide tonight, just the movement of a silently dancing starfish and dolphins.

His hands found a spot of stones carefully polished by eons of ice and water. Here he would rest. Here he would regain himself.

He laid down, placing the staff beside him, covering it with the grey cloth and moss he carried in his pouch. He leaned in to the stone covered earth. Closed his eyes. Sssshhhhhhh…..

New stories would be written. Covering up what was between the old stories and the now. But who would write them? He was worried. Sssshhhhh….

The mist of sleep fell over him. Lulling him in to the space in between the veils. No moon tonight. What was to come?

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 5th 2019