Dec 18th, The Promise, Part 18

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“The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you”.

The Rumi poem whispered through my mind as I walked out of the cabin to put the first bowl of breakfast porridge at the stable for the Nisse.

“Don’t go back to sleep”. White quoted further, smiling the way only wolves can.

“You must ask for what you really want”. Raven picked up on the next phrase.

“How do you know what you really want?” I asked them both while watching the three cubs snoring away in a pile of softness against Fox’s belly just inside the doorsill of the wide open cabin door.

“The diamond knows”, White almost sang with her fantastic morning-howl-voice. “That diamond in your heart knows. It takes some practice to tune in and listen to it. Then it takes even more practice to howl along with it. This is why all ancient peoples sing the mountains, the forests, the waters, the sky, the souls of all beings, the beingness itself. That is how you weave in to the essence.”

“For now though”, Raven interrupted, “I think it might be a good idea to just ask to find out what it is you really want.”

So clever that Raven!

“Just remember “don’t go back to sleep””, White twinkled.

Lethargic.

A feeling of heaviness had spread in my limbs. It was like the heavy dimension did its best to hold on to you just before you were about to put your foot on the other side of the threshold.

Then I heard something from the inside the cottage. It sounded like electrical wires getting short-circtuited. Which was impossible as there was no electricity here. We had cooked breakfast on the woodburning stove and candles gave us light.

When I entered the kitchen-bedroom-all-in-one-space I saw more than I heard the activity coming from the velvet pouch holding Fire & Ice, set in the centre of the small table. Sparks were flying through the pouch. The table was shaking.

I put my hands on the table. It stopped moving. I removed the velvet pouch. The crystal was glowing from within, beaming with a silver and gold light so strong it outshone the moon still set high in the morning sky outside. Little rays of crystaldust moving outwards from its core, each telling a different story. I could see magic spirit bears with beaded crowns, white wolves, the Silver Alves, the Cold Trolls, a whole tribe of the Nisse, horses, foxes, all walking across the beams out the door and materializing in their full, natural size out there among the trees.

– Cecilia Götherström, Dec 18th 2018

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