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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 6. Dec 6th

Touch. Meeting. Fierceness.

Sacred.

Sacred Touch.

Sacred Meeting.

Sacred Fierceness.

Home.

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!

“Star”.

He spoke her name out loud.

“Star!”

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 6th 2020
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 5. December 5th 2020

Image: “Seek” by the amazing Ravynne Phelan – https://www.ravynnephelan.com.

“What you seek is seeking you. What you ssssseek isssss seeeeeking youuuuuhhh…”

The whispers carried through the air to the tree stump where Samantha was sitting observing the morning star making its presence intensely clear in the dawn sky.

She looked around in all directions. Where did that voice come from?

“What you seek is seeking you…”

Was it the air that spoke? No, it was the space which had the possibility for air that whispered.

“What you seek is seeking youuuuuuu….”

“What am I seeking?”, Samantha asked herself quietly. “If I don’t know what I am seeking, then how can I ever meet what is seeking me?”

“Girl, you’ve got to keep turning those stones in your heart over. Get the churning going so to say.” Josephiel lifted his gigantic dragon head up from below the fresh snow cover he was resting under.

“Churning and turning?” Samantha felt a little bewildered.

“Yeah, it’s all physics! Or chemistry! Or… Whatever! It’s all vibration!”, Josephiel replied. “Everything moves, nothing is stuck, nothing is ever still – except stillness itself then, but that’s a different story and dimension. Pardon the side track but yeah, things can feel clogged at times yet never ever forever if you just get movin’. And you can always, always change the rhythm, stir things up, slow things down. Simply, be the vibration. Then you can hear. Hear what is calling you and call in what is essentially calling you. There’s your meeting!”

Vayu the little bundleball of a wolfpup was waking up too, yawning his great morning yawn.

“Exquiiiiizzzze me while I go sing my morning song to all the stars and all the moons”. He stretched, shook the snow off his tail and took off towards the frozen river bank.

“Go join him Sister”, Josephiel nudged to Samantha. “He is your heartkingdom and you are his. Go sit next to him in stillness as he serenades. In that stillness you understand the turning, the churning, the calling and the welcoming. Sacred is the stillness. Holy is your meeting. Gorgeous is the morning hour, for that is where all is revealed, all is understood, all is unspun. Concious Dawn is the most important practice for each human heart.”

Samantha ploughed her way through the knee deep snow following the skipping wolf pup. What a joy his body projected! Would she feel the same if she skipped down to the river too? Only one way to find out, right?

Vayu turned around and challenged her to sprint. 

“Sacred Fierceness” the wind in the air in the space whispered.

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 5th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020/ Sacred. Part 4. December 4th.

Josephiel was squirting with his large, gorgeous, sparkling dragon eyes to look deep in to the crystal wall in front of him. He stroke the wall of the gigantic Fire & Ice rock with his front paws, followed the straight edges up until they started to point up towards the crystal peak. Its summit seemed to connect through the hole in the ceiling of the cave straight up to the North Star.

He turned tilted his head a bit to the side, to be able to see between the lines, which were running vertically closest to the wall and then crisscrossing like spider webs through the inner space of the gem, a little better.

He was zooming in. Wow! It seemed like he was moving closer just by focusing!

He put his claw on the surface of the crystal wall. His claw moved through the surface as if it was water! Then his whole front leg went through to his elbow.

 Wooooow!  He put his nostrils against the surface. His whole head moved through. 

Wowowowooooow! He moved his whole front body through the crystal veil. Within seconds his tail swung through and he heard a cracking sound behind him once he was entirely on the other side. Like ice breaking. When he turned to look he saw it was actually ice healing. 

Well, that was the Ice part of the Fire & Ice. Now, where was the Fire?

“Ho,ho,ho!”, he heard a voice through the trees. “Where is the Fire? Ho, ho, hooooo! You’re a dragon ain’t you?”

Josephiel smiled to himself.

Of course! He’d seen the Ice. He was bringing the Fire. He laughed out loud and he smacked himself on the forehead with his paw. 

OK, so what was in front of him right here right now? He decided to take to the air and check the place out from the skies of this dimension.

After some twists and turns, some serious sky dancing White-Dragon-style, he was close to the glen he’d seen when he peaked in to the crystal for the first time. 

Indeed, there was movement down there.

Disguising himself as a soft cloud he managed get pretty close. Two beings making their way through deep snow. One was a little wolf pup, he could see now. He sensed its playful energy, paired with a seriousness. Like this wolf pup had a huge task. The road before him seemed to be paved with an enormous purpose. 

And the other one?  Hmmmmm, small too but not as playful… 

Was it? Oh yes, it was!  It was a human. But how come did she have the same clan energy print as the little wolf pup?

They both stopped, looked up, straight at him.

“Josephiel! I know you are there.” The voice was not outside him. It was telephatically arriving inside his head.

“Who are you? How do you know me? My name? How can you see me? Where are you?” Josephiel sent back.

“It’s me! Vayu! The Wind Whispering Wolf! I am here! With you!  Or right below you Cloud Shrouding White Dragon! Welcome!” 

Josephiel looked down and saw the little wolf pup jumping up and down, pulling the rim of the humans coat with his teeth while pointing his nose up to the sky.

“And this is Samantha. Flower Of The North.”  Vayu turned his head towards the girl.

“Delighted to meet you Samantha”, Samantha heard coming out of the cloud above them.

She looked up as the cloud gently morphed in to the most gorgeous dragon she ever could have imagined. He looked like he was made of crystals and diamonds and stars and sagas. Sacred.

Silent Night.

Cecilia Götherström , December 4th 2020.

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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 20th

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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.”

Star moved restlessly.

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 20th 2019

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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 11th

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She rolled over on her side. Noticed the morning star making its way upward through the clouds of her outbreath, the sound of the waves swaying against the rocks mixing with the melody of the singing ice further up.

Meru lay close to her head, curled up with his large snout tucked in between some driftwood and moss.

Dawn got up, made her way quietly over to Meru, buried her nose in the wolf’s neck, let his fur tickle and tingle her face, inhaled and exhaled the warmth of his being – the scent of the forest, the streams, the mountains, the plains, the wild soul, the entire wilderness. Sometimes she felt so much more like a wolf herself than a human. There was a peace in being part of this wilderness which was impossible to describe.

She had always been a joyous child. Even though she never ever felt like there was a solid base of anything or anyone holding her, she’d always felt a net of connectedness somehow. Through places and people, songs, stories, words, movement, magic.

Out here in the wilderness all that came together as one. Out here in the wilderness she felt held more than ever. The connectedness was the base out here, there was no difference. The moss was her mother just as much as it was her father and her siblings, just like the wolf was, the mountains, the sky, the trees and everything was.

Out here she was becoming aware of her own inner wilderness. The wilderness which needed the waters to flow un-obtruded by dams and myths. The wilderness where the mountains talked to the stars. The wilderness where she danced with the winds, sang with the wolves, fished with the bears, reflected herself in the light of the moon. Where she just Was.

Meru rolled around, stretched, yawning himself awake and aware.

“You know what Dawn,” he morning- growled out. “You humans love to give each other a whole range of names, reminding you of your family, your lineage and all that. You actually have three.”

“Three?”, she sat up, looked the grey wolf straight in to his eyes.

“Yes, my child. Dawn. Faith. MorningStar.”

“Dawn Faith MorningStar….”, she repeated.

“And I have added “Of The Paws””, Meru smiled.

 

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 11th 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Kringlans Kalender / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 8th

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The lights were mesmerizing. So magically, carefully placed. Almost choreographed.

How could they have forgotten?

She moved like a mischievous fox at times, Red.

Easy to camouflage yourself as what humans considered harmless. Fantastically difficult to understand why, once she stepped out of her foxiness – which she rarely did this close to the village – to engulf her wolfness in all its reddish glow, the people of the valley started shaking, closing their doors fast. Just as heavily as they had slammed their hearts shut to the awestrikingness of Nature ages ago.

” I am Light”, Red spoke out loud. Howling she continued ”Why can’t you see the light in me , humans?”

”Because they can’t see the light in themselves and only light can mirror light.”

Was it the sparkle-adorned tree she was admiring who just spoke? No, her heart had heard his vibrations days ago already. Now her paws felt them .

Craft could not believe he’d found Red before he found Star. Or even before he found Meru and his companion. So, the game was changing already.

”But if they see the light in me, that can spark their own light so bright there is no way there can not be light.”

”The darkenss is so dark right now in their chambers, Way. The moonstones will light the way. We just have to gather first.”

Craft had called her by her tribe name. Way. Red had not heard her tribe name spoken in eons. She knew auspicious times were ahead. Now it was  tangible that they were smack in the middle of those times already.

”Craft?”

”Yes, my lovely.”

”Let’s just sit here with this tree for a while. I want to understand the need to light up and adorn what is already perfect and lit up by its soul already. I want to understand that blindness of inner the eyes”.

The two wolves burrowed down in the snow there on the hill. Connecting to the stars above. Listening to the glowing fire underneath the chimneys. Breathing in the crystal snow. Being.

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 8th 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

 

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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 4th

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“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

The sound echoed over the white covered earth. Up above the mountain, in the starlit sky, a white dragon was painting the rune Thurisaz with her breath.

“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

Paws breaking through the crusty surface. Yellow eyes. Fur dark as the night sky.

Craft moved through the night like he always did. Owning it. Nobody noticing him. Ever. Considering his gigantic stature and enormous energy field it was surprising. But not to him. The humans living in this valley, on these mountains, closed down when they sensed a force so strong, so transformative that anything was possible. Limitlessness was not something they felt comfortable with, not something they’d been raised to understand.

“Thrssss, thrsss, thrsss”.

The aurora borealis in the sky, the elements, the grass, the woods, the stream, the lake, the mountains, they all walked with him. In ancient tales bards had sung his praise, many Völvas had told his story.

Craft was everywhere. Always. Just like Star. Just like Meru.

He cut short right in the middle of the large open field, right on top of the snowcovered lake at its centre.

He could sense her approaching. Slowly.

Star.

Somewhere between the clouds in his memory he could feel the two of them calling in Meru too. Without Grey,  Meru, no point. Whether they would find Red or not was up to how the three of them got together.

Meru had a companion though. That was the cloudy feeling. Craft could not really make sense of the energy until he realized it was human. A human in the mind of the wolves ? Like almost fully inhabiting it?  Well, that was about time. Time to let the human heart in.

”This could be a game changer”, Craft said out loud to himself. ”We shall see…”

 

– Cecilia Götherström, 4 December 2019

 

 

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Kringlans Kalender 2019/ Meru’s wisdom, Dec 2nd

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She had cast the runes. Again. As if for the first time. Her head was spinning, her guts were in knots, her shoulders hunched, her eyes squirting through the shadows. What were those signs? What were they trying to tell her?

She sighed. Gathered the runes, Put them  back in the Pouch of Magic, which she had called it as a child. Why could she not go back to her childlike state? To re-enter that curiousity and openness,  free from wanting anything, safe.

”Wisdom lies in embracing the unknown. It is what you already know but don’t know that you know. When you leap in to the unknown every day anew will you start scratching the dirt off the gold, the mud off the jewel,” rough and clear his voice reached out of the woods.

She stopped. Decided to sit down and listen this time. To wait.

”It is time to go sit with Grandfather, at his side by the great fire. You’ve spun. You’ve woven. Now t is time to take the reins and do it all with intent. With a fully open heart. Leaning on Grandfather with one ear, listening with the other ear. Facing the fire, right down there at the water, under the starlit sky. Returning there over and over again as seasons pass. Coming back to Source.”

”It is not your time to play it small”, he continued. ” It is not your time to hide behind routines. It is your time to let go of all the things which are not meaningful, to open up to your own meaningfullness. By the way, this is not a suggestion. It’s an order.”

She had no clue whether it was the wind that spoke, or the trees, or the mountain, or none of those.

Dagaz. The rune of transformation. Of moving from night to day. That’s where she was right now.

Tiwaz. The rune of strong forward focused energy, symbolizing the sword, the divine masculine. The rune pointing towards bravery, willingness to sacrifice, to boldness and balance. At the place of her current future and what is to come.

The runes confirmed what she had just been told.

He watched her through the pines. Little girl, sitting there on the rock at the riverbank. Little grey pouch of runes in one hand, palm of the other hand open, large sky coloured eyes gazing from the palm of her hand to the woods, to the skies, back to the palm. As she let the runes in her hand slide back in to the pouch, shaking it before she tied it closed, placing it in her backpack, he prepared to move towards her. Not too fast, not too slow. They had not seen each other for nine years and he did not want to startle her.

She reached her hands to the sky totally unaware of his presence. She yawned, jumped on to the riverbank, moving the air downwards with her palms, touching the rocks.

”Father Sky to Mother Earth”, she sang.

”Mother Earth to Father Sky” , as she moved the air to the sides and upwards again with her palms.

Three times.

Meru could do nothing but yawn himself, and as he gently tread out of the shadow of the pinetrees in all his wolfness he started howling along with her singing.

She stopped. Her palms were already placed facing each other in front of her heart. Head bowed. She gently rolled her head up. Eyes filled to the brim with tears. Tears welling in to the river she was standing in.

”Meru, Meru, my dearest Meru! You are here! You are back! You are alive!”

”Yes my dear. Nine years is a long time in the life of a wolf but I ain’t no regular wolf. Just like you ain’t no regular person”.

– Cecilia Götherström, 2 December 2019