“When the full moon dances in its own light. When its shadow pulls of the breath of slivering starlight. When the omens and the signs are one and the same. When the exhalation of the pine trees is your sleep, your lingering moments of trust. That is when the moonstone speaks to you my child.”
The voice meanders through the dark morning like a hymn. Dawn is approaching, yet it is not here.
The moment before dawn. The moment before birth.
The dark. The void. The nothingness.
The sense of being held in Nothing-ness, in Everything-ness. The space we have been taught to fear, but which is the most loving, enveloping space. The space where we can hear. Where we can listen. Where we can see through the eyes of our own inner light.
I roll over in bed, ready to put my feet on the ground, placing them on one the warm, fuzzy blanket.
The entire bedroom floor is covered with blankets held in place by sticky yoga mats underneath.
She’s old, you see. Her paws sprawl out to the sides sometimes. Her grip on artificial surfaces has let go. Her grip in moss, mud, earth, soil and sand has strengthened.
As the dust of dawn foxtrots gently through the tightly pulled blinds, touching the floor, reflecting off her fur, I see her. Curled up. All four white furry legs crossed. Jaws totally relaxed, breathing, snoozing. Head resting gently on the edge of her orthopaedic bed.
Peace. Magic. Love. Stardust. Gentleness. Listening. Kindness. Holiness. All. Breathing in. Breathing out.
As I open the faucet to splash my hands and face in ice cold water, it drizzles like gemstones landing in the sink. The light is as if from another dimension. Rich, gentle, blessed. This water. A gift.
Day one. Every morning anew. A promise. A vow. A vow of presence.
I will give myself to the story being birthed in each breath. The one story springing forth from the song. The song of creation.
“Listen. Listen to the moon. Listen to the stone. Listen to the song. This is Elsa’s Song.”
She on the other side of the veil embrace us both in her magic stride of sacred fierceness. Blessing us.
“We are all blessings”. Elsa’s song begins.
December 1st 2021, Cecilia Götherström
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